Chapter 3: Chapter 3 – the Village

Quietly, the white fur-covered, centipede-like creature trampled over the white sand. Its large black eyes were barely visible under the grey, scaled armour that covered its head. Charlie sat awkwardly behind the tall woman who steered the reigns of the creature. He dared not look at her, maybe out of fear of her sharp gaze, maybe he thought he would accidentally offend her somehow. Regardless of the reason, he kept his gaze off the woman. Best not to accidentally anger someone who had commanded the respect of the Head merchant. A rich, immensely powerful, and very influential man.

 

The woman muttered a few words in her native language. At first, Charlie ignored them, assuming she was talking to herself as he thought it was obvious from previous attempts that he couldn’t understand her. The woman repeated herself, much louder this time. Again, Charlie ignored her, far too focused on making sure he didn’t slip from his crude leather saddle to be swept under the needle-like legs of the creature they rode on.

 

Looking over her shoulder the woman could see Charlie had yet to respond to her. Whipping and turning the reins of the creature, she clamped her legs tightly against her saddle as the creature bucked and kicked. Charlie gave out a small squeak, then a scream as he was almost flung from his seat. Smirking, the woman looked behind to see Charlie as he wrapped his arms around the saddle. Seeing an opportunity, she quickly made her move.

 

Charlie glanced morbidly at the sand as the creature’s legs cut and pierced into the substrate. Images of himself being impaled on the spiked legs filled his mind as he clung to the leather saddle. A soft hand gently shook him. Clinging to the saddle even tighter, Charlie looked up to see the woman’s attention had now partially locked onto him. Slowly and carefully, she grabbed his shirt and began to drag him up the saddle towards herself.

 

He moved up the saddle until his chest was pressed against her back. Letting go of the reigns for a second, she reached back to grab his arms and pull him even closer. Still saying nothing she forced his arms around her waist. Muttering something in her native tongue, she grabbed the reigns of the creature again. For a while, Charlie sat with his arms tightly wound around the woman’s waist. The heat of her body relaxed him as he felt himself sinking into her long, soft hair.

 

Still, the thought of why she had taken him and for what reason filled his mind. How did she command such respect from the head merchant and his mercenary brigade? How did she have the nerve to ignore someone of his status? All this went through his mind until he could feel a strong sense of fear towards this woman. His fear was only amplified as he felt one of the woman’s free hands move down his legs. Looking at the woman’s face, Charlie saw her lick her lips as her sharp eyes flashed around at him.

 

A look of hunger in the native woman’s eyes was enough to make Charlie start to pray that the head merchant would arrive and save him. Between grabbing the reigns of the creature to steer it in a new direction, to when her hands were free and she chose to feel his leg, Charlie made little moves to release his hold from around the woman’s waist. Every time he tried though, she would snap at him in her native language before forcing his arms back around her. Eventually, he decided to give in to his fate and allow the woman to feel him as he forcibly hugged her.

 

Light poured onto the sand, catching Charlie’s eyes. Quickly he sat up, peeking over the shoulder of the woman. Before they sat the beginning of a long wooden-planked road. Raising himself a little higher into the air, he could see the beginnings of a village at the end of the wooden path. The loud steps of the creature as it moved towards the village were soon drowned out by the sound of cheering voices. Voices of different tones and pitches, but all the voices of women except only a few men.

 

After a few more minutes of riding, they reached the entrance to the village. About two or three hundred warrior women, all dressed in the same grass skirts, tops with bodies smeared with red and white paint waved and cheered as the woman, her creature, and her somewhat bewildered captive entered the village. Getting closer, Charlie could see that there were a few more women dressed in grass tops but wearing more decorated headdresses and skirts mixed in with the crowd. They had different roles within the tribe.

 

Moving forward, hands grabbed and groped at Charlie’s legs as the crowd surrounded them. Hurriedly, Charlie pulled his legs into his chest to avoid their touches. The woman smirked as she allowed Charlie to hide in the thick fur of the creature. She pulled the reigns of the creature, steering it to the side. The creature moved with her and started to wander down another long path. Many of the crowd followed them. Eventually, they reached a large, dark cave fronted by wooden bars separating the interior from the outside world.

 

A handful of native women opened the gates. Glancing behind to see Charlie still hiding, she grabbed him and swept him into her arms. Leaping from the saddle, she landed on the sand. Warriors led the creature into the cave as the woman allowed Charlie to stand on his own. Almost immediately, native women swarmed the weird-looking outsider. From the touches and prods he received from the women as soon as they swarmed him, Charlie came to the quick conclusion it was probably the first time many of the natives had seen someone of his fair skin tone and reddish-brown hair.

 

 

Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, the woman started to escort him through the crowd of curious hands. Many chattered and bickered as they tried to get a look at the short stranger. Charlie blushed, trying not to look at the far taller native women. The women laughed and chatted with each other as they all bombarded his captor with questions about the small outsider.

 

“Charlie,” Charlie looked up from the ground as he heard his name being said by the native woman. Several native women repeated his name before passing the knowledge on to other women. The woman corrected them all several times on the correct way to pronounce his name. Charlie looked at the sharp face of the native woman. Noticing his gaze, the woman looked down at him. Smiling she patted him on the head before she resumed escorting him through the crowd. From the looks of respect and how quickly the natives moved aside for the woman, Charlie could see how important she must be. She was their leader, she was the Chiefess.

 

Walking through the horde of energetic and excited natives, they eventually reached the entrance of the village. Carriages from the caravan were starting to arrive, much to the pleasure of Charlie who now had far less attention than all the outsiders with their weird, useless clothing, and loud, terrifying weapons. Already, Charlie could see natives forcing mercenaries and merchants into trading with them. Thinking back now, he did remember hearing about these people at one of the many parties he was forced to attend. He had always lingered at the back, listening to any trade rumours that passed his way. One he remembered, in particular, was of the natives of the white sand desert tribes.

 

Rather than using negotiation or bartering to trade their goods, they simply yelled and made the merchants embarrassed, forcing the merchants to trade off their items for incredibly low prices to avoid making a scene. On the other hand, though, the natives would never steal something, so sometimes they did trade something of incredible value with any men or women that dared to trade with these cunning, hot-blooded people.

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Charlie shook slightly from side to side as the Chiefess pulled him closer. Licking her lips again, her hands started to wander over his shirt. Examining the fine fabrics and metal buttons. His black and blue striped jacket was quickly stripped off by the Chiefess. Wasting no time, she then started to unbutton his shirt. This time she had a lot more trouble trying to figure out how buttons worked and soon gave up. Just when Charlie had calmed himself and allowed the Chiefess to claim his jacket as her own, she pulled out a long, white, what looked to be a bone, knife. With great precision and expertise, she brought the knife to his neck.

 

Seeing him shudder, the Chiefess smiled as she began to cut away at the first button. Swiftly her knife cut through the material, much to the surprise of Charlie who knew for a fact his shirt was designed to be knife proof as he had tested it himself with sharp imperial knives on several occasions. It seemed that whatever the knife was made of it was far stronger than any imperial knife.

 

Charlie took a few steps back. The Chiefess looked at him for a few seconds. Scowling, she stepped forward, grabbing his shirt. Charlie retreated again and again the Chiefess stepped after him.  For a few seconds, they performed a small dance of Charlie going backwards before the Chiefess quickly followed after him.     

 

After a while longer, the Chiefess eventually managed to get a grip around Charlie’s neck. Smiling, she dragged him closer. Licking her lips, she placed her knife against the top of his shirt. Carefully she cut off a button. His eyes widened as she wrapped an arm around his waist to stop him from running.

 

Charlie’s body started to involuntarily shiver as he stared at the salivating woman.  Licking her lips again, she pulled Charlie even closer.  Grabbing the sides of his face, she forced a kiss onto his lips. For a little while, Charlie was confused as the native woman’s tongue probed his mouth. There was a slight popping sound as she dragged her lips away from his, her wide grin and bubbly expression showing she was quite satisfied with him.

 

She stopped her advance for a few seconds. Staring into the terrified eyes of Charlie she felt her heart strain.  Sighing out of both annoyance and anger, she reluctantly gave in to her sympathy and allowed him to escape from her grasp. Stumbling back, and away from the woman, it was clear Charlie feared the idea of the Chiefess coming after him again. 

 

 Putting out a hand she ruffled his hair and gave him a warm smile. She examined him visually for a while longer before grabbing his arm and walking him back to the centre of the village. Charlie could see from the expression of the native woman she was annoyed that he refused her affection, yet she seemed understanding of his reaction. Still, he could only dread what the frustrated woman had planned for him.

 

Dragging him through the crowd of curious hands, the Chiefess soon reached the main village square. Long tables and chairs sat around the elevated wooden stage. To the right sat the entrance to the village, on the opposite side of the tables a dancing stage sat, an elevated platform of stone and wood. Upon this stage sat a long wooden table with several larger, much more elegantly made chairs.

 

Still holding his arm firmly, the Chiefess dragged Charlie over to the elevated platform. Forcing him up the stone steps and onto the stage, and hurriedly sat him on a wooden chair. She carefully made sure that her chair was near his, but not too near as to be directly next to him. After all, he had refused her advances and she now deemed it best to take things slowly now. Looking to her side, she could see Charlie was a chair away from her. He looked nervous. Manically he twiddled his thumbs as he tried to make sense of everything that had just happened to him.

 

Quickly rationalising an excuse in her mind, the Chiefess decided it was probably best that he wasn't left alone for his first night in their tribe. Yeah, that was a good idea, he seemed nervous and on edge, and as the Hostess, she saw it as her duty to calm him. Reaching across to the chair that sat between herself and Charlie, she pattered the wooden seat. Charlie looked across to her, seeing where her hand was and that she was probably gesturing for him to come and sit closer. Weighing his options, Charlie decided it was best for the sake of negotiation to go along with the woman’s demands.

 

Sheepishly he shuffled onto the seat next to her. His compliance seemed to be much to the delight of the Chiefess as she smirked down at him. Straightening her back, she sat elegantly in her seat, a small, terrified Charlie next to her. Constantly he flinched or jumped whenever he saw movement out the corner of his eye. The Chiefess so far had shown herself to be unpredictable to Charlie as she had kidnapped him from the group, taken him back to her tribe ahead of schedule, stolen his jacket (which she now proudly had tied around her waist), then she tried to do sexual things towards him, and now she had him sat next to her as if he was some kind of trophy that she was proudly flaunting to her people.

 

Soon the rest of the native warriors riding their weird war creatures arrived, the remaining merchants and mercenaries riding with them. They entered the tribe and almost immediately were set upon by the natives who ripped them from the saddles. The newer, weaker, more innocent merchants and mercenaries were carried off by incredibly boisterous and flirtatious warrior women. While this happened the injured were taken away by equally attractive and stunning native women into their huts to be cared for.

 

The remaining men were all seated at the tables and were again they were set upon by native women offering them drinks, food and other services in exchange for goods. It was clear now to Charlie why the natives of this tribe were so highly praised amongst the veterans of this merchant trail they were on.

 

A gentle hand slid onto his thigh as a drink was shoved under his nose. Looking to the side Charlie saw the wide grin of the Chiefess. It seemed this journey wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.

 

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