THE SEVEN SEALS OF MATRIA

Part I
A new life

***

The inn was crowded this evening. It was already dark outside, the 19th hour in late Rorolum, the second month of fall.
Many candles on the tables and lanterns at the walls lit the great tavern room in the center of the establishment. The women at the tables were mostly eating, some were already finished and indulged in some wine and smoking. Most seemed tired after a long days journey, as was usually the case with the guests, all being on their way on the great north-south route through Moravan, the southernmost archduchessdom of the Empire. Few stayed longer than one night here.
"Golden Swan" was the pompous name of the road inn, more fitting for a great house in Leibech, the seat of the archduchess, than for this roadstop in the middle of nowhere.
Danadeva returned to the room from the kitchen, carrying a large plate with bowls of meat, vegetables and slices of warm bread. She was sweating from both the heat of the kitchen and her duties. A streak of her blonde hair had gotten out of her ponytail and tickled her face. She blew it away with a soft "air kiss" of her lips.
Quickly heading to a table, she noticed the guests there were already starring at her, as if impatient.
They were surely the most interesting of the evenings guests. All three had sun tanned skinn, brown eyes and dark hair, outlanders to be sure, from the south. They wore elegant tigh high boots of shiny brown leather, matching long gloves and tight fitting corsetts over their white blouses, finally white kneetrousers. Their hair was combed back from their faces, oiled and shiny, and at their necks bound in  ponytails, shorter than her own.
All three had fine eye makeup and lipstick. Most interestingly, all three were armed with swords and daggers.
Guests like these women let Danadeva always start dreaming about the big wide world outside and the adventures therein. But she was only a maid in a remote road inn. No adventures for her.
She sighed, reached the table, bowed her head and offered the plate. As was custom, the leadress of the three (she assumed she was the leadress, as the hilt of her sword was decorated with green and red jewels) inspected the bowls shortly, than nodded, never really taking her intense dark eyes from the young blonde maid.
Danadeva put the plate on the table, bowed again and prepared to leave, not without glancing a last time at the elegant high boots. She was a fan of high boots and long gloves of shiny leather, to the point of being aroused by the mere sight of them on a womans limbs.
How much she wished to possess a set herself. But even if she would get to a city were one could by such wear, how by Ulave, the goddess of trade and money, should she be able to afford it? She knew the prices for such merchandise, it was easily her pay of three months.
And finally, when and where should she wear such boots and gloves? During work in the inn? In her free time with the other maidens? Look, Danadeva, young Dana, the inn maid, in her lady boots and gloves. A ridiculous thought.
But they looked so wonderful on this stranger lady. She noticed the woman still eyed her closely. That was odd. On the other hand, she thought, finally leaving and heading to the kitchen again, perhaps for her blondes were exotic, and she knew she was pretty and well curved. Especially her bossom was ample, to say the least. Many guests starred at her breasts, to her embarassment.
She entered the kitchen again and had soon forgotten the stare of the southern lady...
***
Danadeva quickly headed over to the table of the new guest, she who had come so late to the inn, traveling in darkness.
She was even more interesting than the three southerners, who had already headed upstairs to their quarters a while ago. More interesting? This lady was the most intriguing guest she had ever seen in the inn in her two years here.
She had milkwhite skin, black eyes and glossy black hair in a tight knot at her neck under a blue cap with a white small feather. Her build was slender and diminuitive. Dana knew she was an Achaian, a country to the west of the Empire, as she had seen Achaian artists in her village as a child. It was said all Achaians were artists. It was also said, less friendly, all Achaians were sexgreedy whores. Dana knew both couldnt be true.
The lady too wore such beautiful high boots and gloves and a tight corsett over her blouse, in a shiny light blue like her cap. She even had blue lipstick, something Dana had never seen before.
She had beautiful, soft features and big, perfectly made up eyes.  She was a real beauty, and most astonishing, she, like the southerners, wore a sword and knife.
The Achaian busied herself with a blue pack of filter cigarettes, shalimos, as the pack color told Dana. She had never smoked those, they were said to make a girl gigglish and dizzy like champagne, a luxury not available at the inn, not surprisingly.
Dana watched as the guest put a stick between her pretty full lips. The blue lips were draped around the blonde filter, as sight Dana found most exotic and aesthetic. The Achaian noticed the maid standing at the table and starring at her and raised a fine eyebrow. Instead of saying something she lit a match and took the first drag of her smoke. She smoked with grace and elegance, as Dana had expected.
Putting the stick between her slender gloved fingers, the darkhaired lady said in Doranian, with a strange, somehow "singing" accent:
"Want one too, pretty maid?"
Her voice was soft and girlish, not at least intimidating.
"What?"
"A cigarette. Do you like to smoke one?"
Dana blushed.
"OOhh. No, mylady, sorry mylady. At your service. What are your wishes?"
A fine smile appeared on the ample blue lips.
"I want to see these pouting lips of the pretty maid adorned with a cigarette."
"OOhh. We are not allowed to smoke during work."
The Achaian took another drag, slowly so.
"Really? Not even in breaks? No? How cruel. Then take one for later, when you are finished with your duties."
She hold the pack up to Dana.
The blonde hesitated. Then she fingered a stick out of the offered pack. She bowed and said, reddening:
"Thank you very much, mylady."
"My name is Tashmal. And yours?"
"Danadeva, mylady."
"You are named after the goddess of wisdom, Danade?"
"Yes, mylady."
"I am not sure if this is a fitting name..."
"Beg your pardon mylady?"
"Anyway, the inn mistress already stares menacingly at you. I dont want to see you getting problems because of me. My further wishes:
A meal, the best you have, whatever this may be, and a carafe of water. And a fresh ashtray, this one seems quite full und smelling."
"At once, mylady."
"Fine, pretty maid."
***

Some hours later, already deep in the night, Dana finally sat down on her small bed in her chamber and relaxed. What an evening again. And the interesting guests!
She only wore her nightgown, and her long blonde mane was now free dangling down her back.
Dana eyed the cigarette in the palm of her hand. Not one of the cheap Haguros she usually smoked, but the delicate Shalimo of Tashmal, the Achaian.
She sighed and put the stick between her lips. The impregnated filter tasted very good. She sucked at the unlit stick and indulged in the exotic taste in her mouth. Slowly, she grapped her matches, lit one, and put the flame to the Shalimos end. She wanted this to last.
The first drag tasted wonderful, like sweet light wine. She blew out smoke and giggled. Was it so strong? And coming so fast, after only one drag? It was probably because she wasnt accustomed to it. She giggled again. Her head seemed light as a feather cushion.
When she had finished her smoke, she felt like having drunken a whole bottle of strong wine. Definitly not sobber anymore. She couldnt stop giggling now. Everything in the chamber seemed to move rapidly about her.
She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. This was nice. And funny. How Tashmal could keep so cool after smoking these sticks was a mystery to her.
Tashmal. Such a beautiful, exotic and elegant lady. And in her beloved kind of boots and gloves to boot. She imagined Tashmal naked, only wearing the blue long boots and gloves. And then, herself, naked too, in boots and gloves, in shiny black. She was a mighty, dangerous Deathknightress of the Order of Kerke, the daughtergoddess of war. Dana the knightress.
In her fantasy, she and Tashmal kissed, then their leathersheated limbs intertwined, and...
She started caressing her sex, still giggling.
Suddenly, a gloved hand pressed down on her mouth, and cold, sharp steel touched the skin of her throat.
Dana opened her eyes and let out a surprised scream. The hand vanished from her mouth, and Danas scream never came out, as a big wad of glibbery material invaded her mouth and expanded to fill her oral orifice completely.
"MMMPPH!"
The maids vision cleared and she saw towering over her the leadress of the southern women, holding a dagger to her throat.
"Dont move, be quiet, and you wont be hurt. Understand?"
More than a bit frigthened, Dana nodded. She now noticed the two other southerners were in her chamber too.
She was rudely woman handled on her stomach. Her elbows were tied together, than her wrists, the palms of her hands facing one another.  A strap of latexa, by the smell and the squeaking sound it made, was put between her lips and pulled tight, pressing the gag packing deeper into her mouth, cutting into the edges of her lips. It was fastened at the back of her neck. The third part of the gag was a broad white latexaband, covering her mouth and sealing the gag, tied off too at the back of her neck.
The gag squeaked a bit. To her surprise, Dana felt arousal in her sex, then she realized the gag was impregnated with a strong aphrodisiakum. Her dizziness was gone, her mind was crystalclear.
As if that did her any good. In the meantime, ropes bound her arms to her body above and below the breasts, and her legs had been tied at the ankles, below the knees and at the middle of her tighs.
She was completely helpless.
The three attackers stood back and admired their own handiwork, or whatever they were doing, as Dana had problems watching, lying facedown on the bed.
One of the strangers said something in their southern language. Dana only understood the word "dildo" which was the same in Doranian. Her eyes widened. The leadress voiced a sharp "Nieta!"
It sounded like "No!" to Dana. Rightly so, as no one applied a dildo on her in the next minutes.
The intruders seemed to search her chamber, ransacked her few belongings, but nothing seemed of interest to them.
One produced a pack of cigarettes, and the three southerners "mouthed" sticks and one lit a match. They seemed to have all the time in the world.
This was the moment the door opened audibly and a soft voice said in Doranian with a strange accent Dana already knew very well:
"I dont think you will smoke now, Donnas."
Surprisingly, the southern ladies didnt attack Tashmal, they seemed to not even move.
Dana struggled on the bed to see what was going on. Finally she managed to roll onto her side.
The small Achaian stood in the door aiming two small crossbows at the southerners. The tiny bolts glisted with some oily substance.
The three "Donnas" stood in the chamber, facing Tashmal, cigarettes still dangling from their painted lips. They had raised their hands above their heads and starred angrily at the slender brunette.
"So. I think you know the drill, girls. Take gags from your own supply and put them in your mouths. Secure them with strap and band. Than strip to your boots and gloves. What do you hesitate? Is it my accent? Or are you aghast to get the treatment yourself?"
The leadress of the three said, still cool:
"You have only two bolts. We are three. We can take the pain and the side effects of the drug till we wake up, while the third of us, takes you down."
She too spoke Doranian, so Dana could understand her words. Apart from the fact she had bound and gagged her, Dana could tell by the tone of her voice she was a real bitch.
The blonde would really like to see her bound and gagged in her boots and gloves, otherwise naked.
"What makes you think I can be taken down so easily? I might be trained in unarmed combat. You can see the dagger at my hip. Is it worth the risk? The pain of the bolts? I might even get angry and kill you all. After all, I am an evil achaian whore, or so I have been told more than once. You cant know, but perhaps I am fond of killing or even torturing my customers."
"You have made your point. Obey her orders, maids."
Angrily, the two others produced gags from their hip bags and shoved them into their mouths, then secured them with strap and band of flexible, shiny latexa.
Meanwhile the leadress and Tashmal chatted like good friends in a cafe in Achaia, although the Southerners voice was ice cold.
"You must be familiar with this situation, Donna Bonda. Surely someone has turned the tables on you in your career before."
Dana let out a surprised moan into her gag. The southerns were Donna Bondas? The famous and feared slave hunters of Tallavor, the mightiest city state of Liganor?
Why would they come here to this remote place to abduct a young blonde maid like thousands of others in the Empire of Dorania? Surely not because of her big breasts or her silly starring cow like blue eyes.
"You are right, Madamelle. I was in this situation before.  The ladies who put me in a bind had to regret it soon thereafter. A very deep regret."
"Really? Now I am frightened. Anyway, we can continue talking about our business while you strip."
The Donna Bonna obeyed. She had wellrounded small breasts. To Danas surprise, her nipples seemed erect and was that love honey dripping from her sex? The two others, already naked save for boots and gloves and gagged, were aroused too. They caressed their own breasts and moaned into their squeaking gags.
On Tashmals command, one started to tie up the other.
No one seemed to care for Dana, forgotten on the bed.
"I am sure you will get free of the bonds during the night, or you will be freed by the inns staff in the morning."
The Donna Bonda raised an eyebrow.
"You dont intend to call the authorities of this duchess? Not that they would hold us for long. By the way, mind if I smoke my cigarette?"
Which was still dangling from the bitchs lips.
"No. But leave it between your lips, Donna. It will raise your arousal nicely there."
"You are cruel as a Mambaka."
"I take that as a compliment, but the cigarette thing one learns in the first class."
"You are right, I like to use it too whenever possible."
The second southerner had finished tying up the third one.
"Bind your mistress, girl."
Tashmal commanded, and on a nod from the leadress the henchwoman started to tie her up.
"May I ask a favor from my captor?"
"What might that be, Donna?"
"A dildo for me. I might as well take a bit pleasure out of this failure."
"I feel generous tonight, dont know why. Perhaps its your surprising politeness.  I will grant you your request."
"Splendid. You have the thanks of myself and my house. When I capture you, you will be treated well. At least till the moment of your sale."
Tashmal ordered the third slave hunter to go down on her knees. She fastened one crossbow to a ring at her belt, approached quickly and put a gloved hand to the neck of the kneeling woman. Dana couldnt make out what happened, but the gagged southerner groaned deeply and went down to the ground, obviously unconscious.
The Achaian offered the standing, bound leadress of the three a fine smile and asked:
"Whats first? Gag or Dildo?"
Then, things happened real fast. A black shadow darted from the door into the chamber.  Instantly, Tashmal spun around, firing her remaining crossbow. Too late. The bolt hit the wall to the doors right. The dark clad figure reached the Achaian, one of her legs came up, high, incredibly high, and a foot smashed into Tashmals face. She went to the ground. The shadow was over her, the side of her hand hit the Achaians neck like a knife. Then Tashmal lay very still.
Dana screamed into her gag. They had killed her!
Into the sudden silence, the Donna Bonda said:
"Light my smoke. Package this slut. Untie me. In this order. And what took you so long, by the fucking goddess of peace and love?"
The shadow, a very slender, tall woman in tight fitting black silk clothing and mocassins, removed
her hood and veil and showed a long face with high cheekbones, black eyes and of yellow skin.
Another mew escaped Danas gag. The shadow woman was a Xiskaika, a race from a realm very far away in the East. Dana had only heard stories about them and had always been unsure if they really existed.
Despite her situation, she was fascinated. All these strange, alien ladies, here to abduct a young, dumb inn maid. None of this made any sense to her.
The Xishaika lit the cigarette of the helpless leadress and said in a whisper with a very soft voice:
"This servant wanted to ascertain that milkskinn woman is all alone, and no minions wait near by."
The Donna Bonda sucked in smoke, blew it out, the stick still between her lips and hissed:
"And? Is she alone? And she is an Achaian, not a milkskinn, you silly freak."
"Yes mistress, she is alone."
The yellow skinned lady went down to one knee, producing a coil of white rope from her hip bag and grabbed a wrist of Tashmal.
Dana felt relief. If they tied Tashmal up, she couldnt be dead.
Then she virtually JUMPED in her bounds and nearly fell out of the bed, as the Achaian all, of a sudden turned around, very quickly, and delivered a vicious kick into the Xishaikas stomach.
Even the cool Donna Bonda was surprised this time and let out a scream, loosing her cigarette in the process.
The Xishaika doubled in the middle and collapsed, gasping for air. Tashmal came to her feet, quick and agile as a panther of the mambakian jungle. Blood was dripping from her nose.  She delivered another kick, this time to the shadow womans face, and out she was for good. Or was she? Tashmal quickly crouched beside her and touched her neck, her gloved fingers pressed here and there, and then she rose, obviously satisfied.
"Turning tables can be an entertaining game, but for tonight, I had enough of it. Excuse me, but you will sleep for a while now."
With this, she reached the standing Donna Bonda and made this special grip again at her neck too.
The slave huntress sighed and collapsed to the ground.
Tashmal produced a silken, white handkerchief, and wiped blood from her face. It was still dripping out of her nose.
Finally someone paid Dana on the bed attention, as the Achaian eyed her and said in a sweet tone:
"Stay calm a little while longer, pretty maid. I am impressed you dont struggle and mmppff all the time. Thats unexpectedly cool on your part. Lets keep it that way."
Dana was far too overwhelmed by the happenings of the night and the quick turns of events to think of her own predicament.  She just starred up at Tashmal. This nose must hurt, the poor little lady. And so brave and dangerous she was. Dana was already hopelessly in love.
Tashmal looked down on the blood soaked handkerchief, made a theatralical grimace und exclaimed:
"Ruined!"
She dropped the now very red thing and it sailed to the ground. Next, she produced her Shalimo pack, mouth a filtered stick, lit it quickly, and went to work on her "customers", all the time the burning cigarette firmly between her blue lips.
First, the Xishaika was stripped naked, bound from shoulder to ankles, and gagged.
Next, she UNtied the leadress, removed her boots and gloves, and then retied her like the yellowskinned woman.
The second Slave huntress followed, getting the same treatment.
Finally, she checked bonds and gag of the already packaged third southerner, the only one of her enemies still awake, but completely helpless.
This lady seemed very seriously sexually aroused. She was panting, sweating, struggling, and mewing constantly into her strict gag.
Tashmal shook her head in mock surprise and raised a finger.
"You shouldnt impregnate your gags with so strong aphrodisiaka. As you now learn, this can fall back on you in the most untimely way."
She bent forward and patted the latexa sheated cheek of the woman. The captive glared up at her and made angry noises through the gag.
The Achainan ignored her now, gripped the boots and gloves and the other clothing of the stripped leadress and threw all these through the door into the dark corridor.
After a final drag, she killed her Shalimo in Danas ashtray and sat gracefully down on the edge of the bed, resting one hand on Danas naked tigh. The blonde shivered at the touch of the leather gloved hand.
Tashmals fingers began to playfully stroke Danas thigh and stomach, then wandered to her sex. Dana groaned into the gag and starred up at her, hopelessly aroused.
Having moments ago thought about the question why Tashmal didnt free her now, these considerations were completely forgotten. If this hand only would move deeper, farther, to the center of her lust... then...
The leadress of the slave hunters started to struggle and moan, than raised her head.
Tashmals hand left Danas body. The blonde couldnt supress a whimper of sorrow.
The Donna Bonda starred at the Achaian, her dark eys over the gag were full of hatred. Dana realized her manners and coolness had derived from the fact that the shadowwoman was around to take out out  Tashmal. That the little Achaian would recover from the Xishaikas attacks so quickly the southerner clearly hadnt anticipated.
The helpess slave huntress let out a furious scream through her squeaking latexa gag and struggled uselessly in the ropes.
"Before I leave," Tashmal said, still speaking softly, "I want to make one thing clear. The pretty maid with the big boobs is MY customer and it is I who will leave with her. You, better dont cross my way again. Remember, I am an evil achaian whore, and you ruined a good silk handkerchief, which cost me 2 zarines in Lashayette. It has cost me further 6! zarines to let it impregnate with parfume and aphrodisiakum. To make matters worse, I have lost time. Time is money, as Ulave, goddess of trade and money, tells us. And finally, I really dislike Donna Bondas. I am not sure why, its just a gut feeling. I listen to my feelings. So, next time we meet, you wont get free in the morning. I will sell you on the next market with a slave tradress from Mambakalor, and you know quite well, thats worse than death.
I see you are not in the mood to listen. Fine, your problem."
She rose again, searched the hipbags of the captives laying to one side with the clothing, and produced from them for small silken sacks with cords. Curious, Dana watched as Tashmal went to each of the female "packages", in pulled the sacks over their bound hands, tying them shut with the cords at the captives wrists.
What a clever design to pin a prisoners fingers and to make untying oneself nearly impossible, Dana thought.
The Achaian came over to her, untied her legs, and put a leash of rope around her neck.
"Come on , slave, we have lost enough time. Hopefully, I will get a good price for you in the market."
Slave, market? Tashmal was a slave huntress too? No, that couldnt be! Not Tashmal! She screamed into her gag and tried to resist the leash. Both to no avail. The squeaking of the gags latexa was louder than her whimpers and she strangled herself with the leash. Dana ceased resisting and rose, followed Tashmal to the door.
"Have fun, packages!" were the brunettes final words to the four helpless ladies in the chamber, who were by now all awake again.
The small brunette closed the door of the chamber from the outside and led Dana along, on the way fetching the clothing of the southerners leadress from the ground with her other hand.
What did she want with these things? But this didnt really matter. She was a slave huntress who abducted her into slavery, and after all, really because of her large breasts. Dana surpressed tears, more sad than afraid. The sudden change of Tashmal from her heroine to a heartless cruel slave huntress was too much for her to bear.
They had reached the end of the long corridor and a door to the inner yard of the fortress like inn.
Tashmal stopped, dropped the leash and put her hand to Danas chin, raising her head, gently so.
"You are crying, pretty maid. Poor silly one. I am no slave huntress. I will free you now. I had to misled the bitch back there.  She will think I will sell you as a slave, and will search for you among the slave population of the vicinity. Understand? Oh, stop crying, silly one. Wait, I have another handkerchief. I lied to the bitch. They were a gift from a grateful customer. They didnt cost me a single copper zarinelle."
Tashmal put the new handkerchief to Danas face and dried her eyes and the part of her cheeks not encased by the latexagag.
The silken little stuff smelled sweet like the Shalimo Dana had smoked shortly before the adventure - it was an adventure, she suddenly realized - had begun.
"I will remove your gag now, but you must remain quiet, understood?"
Dana nodded. Tashmal was a heroine after all. That was wonderful. She sniffed once, blinked her eyes to clear away the last tears. Gently, carefully, Tashmal removed the broad white latexa band from Danas lower face. Its edges had cut deeply into Danas cheeks. The gagstrap underneath followed, and finally the Achaian poked the packing with her fingers out of the blondes gaping mouth.
The maid breathed deeply, moved her aching jaws.
"You took the gag well, pretty maid. Your first latexagag? Your first gag at all?"
Dana managed to nod, confused.
"Unbelievable, these imperial barbarians.  No culture at all," Tashmal muttered, as if more to herself than to Dana.
"Anyway, the word we are looking for is - anyway. Let my untie you. Do you want a cigarette? A smoke will calm you down and relax you. I have taken the liberty to fetch your Haguros from your chamber. "
Speaking in a whisper, Dana said:
"Thank you, mylady. You rescued me. You are so brave..."
"Stop that, will you, pretty maid? Now, a cigarette?"
The Achaian had already loosened the ropes above and below Danas breasts around her torso and upper arms.
"OOhh. Yes, please mylady."
Tashmal paused in untying and put a stick from a yellow Haguro pack between Danas shivering lips.
She lit it for the still bound blonde. Dana inhaled like she had never done before. Yes, that was really what she needed now.
"The first cigarette after a gagging is nearly as good as the first after making love, it is said," the Achaian oberserved, smiling sweetly at Dana.
The maid didnt understand the remark, but she decided to nod at it.
Quickly, she was free of all rope, and could take the cigarette into slightly shaking fingers.
"So. Now dress, hurry, we have lost enough time already."
"Dress? What - OOhh. The clothes of the leadress. Now I understand."
"You are a REAL quick thinker, sweet maid. You deserve to be named after the goddess of wisdom."
Dana was sure the Achaian was mocking her. She blushed and tortured the filter of the Haguro with her lips.
Tashmal tossed the clothing into Danas lap. Quickly, the blonde started to dress. The leadress of the slave hunters was about her height and body. Even the boots fit nearly perfect to her feet. The boots! Dana suddenly realized. She was dunning long boots of the kind she had always dreamed of and lusted for. From this realization on, she continued dressing with delight.
But then, out of a sudden, a question arose in her mind. What would happen next?
"Why.."
"Look sweet maid. This is probably a bitter pill for you, but these gals back in the chamber came the long way from Tallavor around the Garak mountains or even over it on dragons, the first very time consuming, the second very expensive, just to get to a remote inn in a remote province of a remote so called "empire" to get and abduct especially you of all sweet maids of your glorious empire. To someone, you are extremely important.
They will try again, and if they dont succeed, others will be sent. I, on the other hand, was send by someone else to protect you, and I consider my mission not accomplished yet.
Bottomline is, you cant stay here. I dont know if you have a family in one of the villages nearby, or a lover among the other maidens of the inn, but you have no choice than to leave them behind.
They are in danger too, as long as you are near them.
Have you understood that? Or shall I repeat the odd part of it?"
Dana had understood quite well.  Accepting was another matter.  She killed the cigarette under a booted feet - the inn mistress hated cigarette butts on the ground - she would be rid of the inn mistress, she realized as an afterthought - and reached for the Haguro pack tucked behind Tashmals belt, not noticing that she unbiddenly touched the mylady.
She shook another cigarette out of the pack, mouthed it and turned to Tashmal again. The brunette produced her matches and lit Danas stick without a word.
The Achaian waited patiently. She had said there was no time to loose, but she didnt seem in a hurry.
The blonde smoked, started to pace in the corridor, a few steps left, a few steps right. She threw back her free hair mane of dark blonde. She didnt notice the look Tashmal gave her at that.
Finally, a second butt was on the ground, and Dana faced Tashmal again.
"I understood mylady. You are right. I must go."
Her determination wavered.
"But where to? I was never away from the village and the inn, only once to Leibech, the archduchess city to the north. Do yout hink this is far away enough? No, probably not. "
Tashmals face wore a symphathetic expression.
"You will come with me. We will go to Lashayette, the republics capital. There you will be save."
Danas eyes widened. Lashayette! City of arts and pleasure! City of thieves and whores! One of the greatest cities of the whole world! What an adventure this was!
Her enthusiasm sunk again.
"I must see my mothers and younger sisters first. They must know, must understand..."
"No, thats totally out of the question. You may write them a letter. I have feather, ink and paper in my rucksack."
"I cant read or write."
"Klish! I forgot about the glorious state of your empire. You have no public schools. Well, than I am sorry, but you cant visit your family.  Period."
What were public schools? And Klish? Probably some goddess or devil. It was not important now, Dana decided. She tried to concentrate again.
"I... I must accept that. Okay, lets go. You said we must hurry."
"There is one problem remaining. I assume you cant ride?"
"I am a good rider. My first lover in the village worked at a horse farm. We often took a ride too..."
"Thats the first good news I have heard tonight. Here, I have something you might need in the future."
Dana hadnt seen the Achaian taking these items along too. In Tashmals hands lay the swordbelt of one of the evil henchwomen, complete with sword and dagger dangling down from it.
"I cant fight. I never held a sword in my life."
"We will change that quickly during our journey. Now take it and lets be on our way. You wear the hunters clothing and boots, carry their weapons, it fits if you ride one of their horses.
I assume one can leave the inn even during the night?"
"Yes, the guards at the gate will open it for guests at any time. But they will recognize me."
"No, they wont. I dont recognize you. You look like a doranian noble woman, not like an inn maid."
Dana was puzzled. Did the clothes and boots change her appearance so much? Okay, it was dark too, but.... what seemed to be one of Tashmals favourite words? Anyway, it was anyway, she would find out soon enough...