**

They continued throughout the whole day, even during meal with the other passengers in the evening.
Suddenly, Zusha, manacled again, kneeling beside their table, as slaves were not allowed to sit at a table with free persons in the empire, exclaimed:
"Stop! Zushas brain is filled to bursting point like a well gagged mouth. She cant memorize a single achaian word more."
The others laughed.
"Very well," Tashmal nodded,  "it was quite much we did today. Lets call it a day."
"Just one phrase more," Dana said, "what does river shrimps mean?"
"Oh, yes, river shrimps!  Its "tiveuxlampoufluxas"."
"That sounds difficult. What does it mean exactly?"
"Pink worms out of the river."
"Nice. Fluxa is river?"
"Flux."
"Please!" Zusha groaned.
"Oh, anyway, what of the nights pleasures?"
They were finished with the meal and lit cigarettes. Dana said:
"You are the most creative in this respect, Tashmal. What do you propose?"
"I have decided you are able to look after yourself in our cabin, and then there is Zusha. So, what about packaging me and give me some payback?"
"But you said..."
"I will be bound one or two hours. In this period, I am confident you two can handle matters, if really a problem arises. And you can free me quickly with a knife to boot."
"When you say so. That will be fun. I am very curious how you react to bondage."
"You will not be disappointed, I promise you."
"Fine, achaian whore, fine..."
"Dana, Dana, what is becoming of you? Where are your manners? Does one call ones companion a whore?"
"I only try to learn and practice what you have taught me."
"Well parried, sugarmouth."
***
"Open wide, achaian Klishainja."
Tashmal shuddered visibly when being called that and obeyed. The blue latexa sheeting her limbs squeaked - another gift of a grateful passenger.
Dana stuffed the latexa packing into Tashmals mouth, not very gently.
"UMMPPFF!"
The brunette, naked save for the latexa gloves and stockings, was already strictly tied with white silk rope.  She squirmed a bit in her bonds, kneeling on the bed.
Dana applied the gag strap, drawing it tight, and than even tighter before fastening it. It had been Tashmals wish that they be rude and brutal with her. The broad white latexa band followed, covering the Achaians mouth, going over her cheeks, and fastened at the back of her neck.
“MMPPHH! MMMFFF! UMMPPHHH!"
The petite brunettes huge dark eyes went wide and virtually bulged.
"Is it too tight, Tashmal?"
"Mistress, she wants it that way. Cant you tell how aroused she is?"
"Uuuh, yes, you are right. She is already dripping into the sheets."
Tashmal started to move her hips.
Dana watched in fascination.
"What is she doing?"
"Lady Tashmal is moving her inner muscles in her sex.Look, she is cuming already. She is very good at it.  Zusha hasnt mastered this art so well yet."
Dana was very aroused by seeing Tashmal this way.   
Tashmal  was constantly mmpphing and uumpphing.
Dana wanted to experience that too again. Maybe tomorrow night. She could hardly believe how strongly Tashmal was under Majaves spell. She was so aroused, yet she managed to control the muscles of her love tube. She could see that Tashmal loved to be packaged, loved to be gagged.  Just like she herself. She felt joy.
The brunette was cuming again, screaming, squirming, shuddering.
"What do we do now? We can make love while Tashmal squirms beside us."
"No. We watch her the whole time.  Its part of her pleasure that we watch her packaged, and cuming and so on. Its Lady Tashmals night. Not ours. We can masturbate while watching her."
"Yes, you are right. I hadnt thought about that."
"The Lady with the skin like milk is a mistress in the art of Majavet, as you Arankas call it, too."
"I havent heard of that art. It has to do with Majave, so..."
"Its the art of sex. A sex interrogation with her would be very difficult, as she can reach the climax quickly and in countless ways. I am glad Lady Tashmal is our friend, and not our enemy."
The hidden meaning of Zushas words was not lost on Dana. Her heat declined rapidly. She mouthed a cigarette, a Malego, and lit it.
Tashmal was cuming again. So helpless and still so powerful. Are you my friend Tashmal? Or an enemy? she thought.
Angrily, she threw her blonde mane back and took another drag of her smoke.
***
"Another 20 zarines gone."
"20 is not much."
"Silly beautiful Dana. That are 400 dublones. And dont say "OOHH" now, or I kill you."
"It seems okay for a good horse, saddle and all other equipment"
"Yes, you are right. Horse?"
"Khakumon."
"Saddle?"
"Drondesette."
"Good, Dana. Its amazing. You hear a word only once and dont ever forget it. You learn so quickly and well everything I teach you, fencing, bondarat, achaian, noble speech and behavior.  I start to believe you are a daughtergoddess visiting Matria. Well, that would explain why everyone wants to get their hands on you."
"Nonsense, Tashmal. How long from here to Lashayette on horseback?"
"Two weeks."
Zusha led the horse Tashmal had just purchased for her beside the others.
"Its a good mount, though its not trained for war."
"There is no war in our path, Tra Ka Dar."
"Zusha knows that, Lady Tashmal."
The Achaian, her hair open for the first time during the day, a green cap with white feather upon it, mounted her horse, and Dana hurried to do the same.
It was good to be on horseback again, the blonde thought. She loved riding.
"Lets move out. Five miles to the achaian border. Cant wait to get home again."
They left the small town and followed a mud road to the west. The horses had difficulties,  as the mud was very deep and thick. It had rained nearly constantly the last days. Some carts and coaches were underway, but no other riders.
The journey on the river had continued for five more days after Tashmals night in bondage. The ship had stopped at Breitbein, from where it would sail back the next day.
Breitbein was a small, but growing town, prosperous and sheer vibrating with activity. The trade with Achaia, Tashmal had explained.
It was easy to buy provisions, equipment, and a third horse. And so, they were rapidly approaching the border  of the Achaian Republic.    
The border itself proved to be quite unspectacular. At least on the empires side. On the doranian side, a wooden tower and a bar across the mud road.  The soldiers there mustered the three with sleepy bored eyes and opened the bar without a word. A zone of about 20 horse lengths followed, which belonged to no one, it seemed.
After that, another bar and a stone tower beside it. Or was it stone? It was shiny and as smooth as a latexa stocking, but it couldnt be hard latexa, or could it? It was bright blue. From its peak, the flag of Achaia waved in the wind, a silvern vixen head on light blue.
"Is that stone, Tashmal?"
"Yes it is."
"But how? Its like creamed latexa!"
"I never needed to know for my work and it never interested me privately how its done."
"You mean you dont know?"
"Dont look so surprised, my beauty. I am not Danade in person. I dont know everything there is to know, as you obviously have thought."
They reached the tower. The soldiers here wore blue uniforms and long shiny black boots and gloves similar to Danas. Blue caps with long silvern feathers rested on their hair, which was in ponytails, buns or plaits.  All had milk white skin, black eyes and jet  black hair.
Their weapons were hellebards and crossbows, and each had sword and dagger.
Only one of them had a hat instead of a cap and the silvern feather was broader. This one had no hellebard or crossbow. Obviously she was in command.
The three halted before the bar and Tashmal dismounted.
"Greetings, Leftenette."
"Greetings, Madamelle."
Tashmal reached a paper across. The officer opened it and started to read. The soldiers were alert and combat ready. Their eyes were on Dana and Zusha, not starring, just observing them. One said to another in Achaian:
"The blonde has breasts as big as footballs."
Dana said aloud in the same language , looking at the achaian soldier:
"And yours are as small as apples."
All soldiers, even the one with the apple boobs, laughed at that.
Appleboobs replied:
"Well parried, Madamelle."
The Leftenette had finished reading, gave back the paper  to Tashmal, and ordered loudly:
"They can pass. Open the bar."
And so they entered Achaia.
Just behind the bar, Dana stopped and gave Zusha the small slave key. The Rondaka opened her wrist manacles with it, then her throat collar. She threw collar, manacles and key into the bushes of the surroundings.
"Hey! We could have used these items in the future."
Zusha said nothing to that. Tashmal sighed very loudly and shrugged. She already knew Zusha would accompany them, and had had no objections. She even had said she welcomed that, as the Redskin was a trained warrior and they had use of those.
Dana looked down at the road. There was no mud. It seemed to be of the same shiny, latexa like stone like the blue tower, only that is was dark grey. She saw that it was higher in the center than at the edges, so water would run off the surface of it. How clever, she thought.
"Are all roads in Achaia that good?"
"No, only the big ones. Thats the start of the Sna Gelilax. "Sna " is road, to be exact it means "line". Gelilax is the name of the city it leads to."
"And the city name?"
"Uff, I am not sure. Its no real word with meaning, probably a person out of Achaias history. You see, Dana, another thing your mylady doesnt know."  
They followed the  Sna Gelilax, the hooves of their mounts making "clac-clac" like their boots in a stone hall. Dana liked that.
She looked around. The surroundings didnt look different from Dorania. She remarked about it, and it was Zusha, who said:
"Nature doesnt care for womens boundaries."
"Nicely put." Tashmal smiled dryly.
"Thank you Lady Tashmal. I learned sayings like that from one of my grandmothers. She was full of it. I hated them all as a child, but now I see wisdom in most of them."
"Whats the matter, Tra Ka Dar? No more "Zusha that" and "Zusha this"? Using the little word "I"? How come? If I am allowed to ask?"
"I am no longer a slave."
"I see."
"But you insist on the name "Zusha" still?" Dana asked.
"It is as good as any other and will do fine."
Tashmal and Dana changed a look. Tashmal rolled her eyes inwards and Dana had to giggle.
Zusha pretended not to notice, she said:
"Your horses were in the ships stable for a long time. We should ride faster for a while, so they get what they need and have lusted for for days."
Tashmal nodded.
"You are right, Zusha. This time."
***
The first village they saw was decidedly different from the empire. The houses very all of this astonishing shiny material, the walls white or grey or cream, but the roofs colorful as a rainbow. Many were a mosaic of plates out of this material, and showed sunrises, clouds in the sky, the nightly stars, horses under the moonlight , and one even two women making love.
The clothing of the people, simply peasants and low artisans they all, were colorful, and mostly of such expensive materials like silk, Latexa or shiny leather under cloaks of warm, good wool. Most had elegant boots, knee high and some even overknees, a privilege reserved in the empire to the noble or rich, or warriors.
And the color of the womens hair was not always black. Often it was blond, or red, or such strange colors like blue, green or even silvern. Tashmal explained that it was dyed, and that the natural hair color of Achaias was black, after all.
All women and even young girls before their First Pleasures wore makeup. They all looked so beautiful, so happy, so proud.
The village and its inhabitants were wonderful. Even the cows on the pastures around the settlement were fatter and seemed somehow happier than their imperial counterparts.
Achaia must be an immensely rich country. She now gained another perspective on the money Tashmal had spent during their journey.
On the Sna Gelilax, there were many travellers, on horseback, with coaches and carts, or on foot. Everyone seemed well fed, well clothed, well hair styled and well made up.
The next villages they passed were just the same, and the inn they stayed in the first night was a dream. The lights shined more brightly, the air smelled fresh and tasted like her Laxagos, with a bit Shalimo and Malego in it. Though most guests smoked, and even the maids did so in their breaks, no blue clouds hung under the ceiling. The Chruchor had to be  very, very good. There were pictures at the walls, very realistic ones, and the animals and women in it MOVED.
It was magic, Dana knew, but it must have been very expensive. The greatest wonder of all was a big tube of thick glass and in it water, and in the water, living fish was swimming about.  Some of the fish were of bright, shrill, colors. Were they dyed too? No, she wont ask, lest Tashmal laughed again.
The maids  - the next wonderful thing. They wore latexa stockings and gloves of different colors and short silken dresses. At their latexa sheeted feet were delicate silvern sandales, whose bands criss crossed upwards right to their knees. Their  hair and make up was as good as Tashmals and her own, and all were beautiful, very much so. They were very quick, very alert, as if they all smoked Kaskagos. On the other hand, she saw them often smiling, laughing, talking with one another and the guests, and making breaks to drink and have a quick smoke. The inn mistress, an elegant old lady - no, Madamelle, it was here - was sitting at a table herself, smiling and chatting with two other old ladies. Dana knew she was mistress only because Tashmal had paid their room  by this lady.
If she ever had to be an inn maid again, she wanted to be it here.
Then there was the meal. Delicious, and with decidedly other tastes than dorianian cuisine. And the menue card was three times as long as in the inn in Maulburg, which had been easily four times the size of this road inn here. How must an inn in Lashayette be? Dana couldnt imagine.
"Was it to Madamelles taste?"
The maid had gone down on one knee, as was the custom in Achaia instead of bowing before a higher person. Her silken dress was green as her long hair, and her latexa stockings and gloves silvern in color. Her sandales were black.
"Yes, it was delicious."
"Madamelle has worked in an inn herself, am I right?"
"How did you know?"
"We noticed your knowing looks and the way  you seemed to notice when another guest is waiting impatiently.  And other details."
"You and your friends should become spies or scouts."
The young maid laughed.
" Perhaps we are, Madamelle? Who knows..."
With that she rose and started to remove the dishes. Tashmal, whose table manners had been perfect tonight, ordered another bottle of apple juice. Zusha mouthed a Kaskago - Dana had bought her cigarettes of her own - and received a light from the petite brunette. Mildly aroused by seeing Zusha smoke, Dana reached for her pack too.
At that moment the music started and a clear, sweet voice began to sing. She turned and saw a band of five musicians and a singer in front of them. The music was beautiful, as the voice of the singer.
The mood of the song was surprisingly sad.  Conversations in the small hall died down,  as nearly everyone listened. The maids used it to have a gang smoke.
Dana turned to Tashmal to ask her about the song, as she only understood a few words, and stopped cold. There were tears running silently down the brunettes cheeks. She opened her mouth to ask what ailed her friend - and she was her friend, evil or not, by Benit, the goddess of love and peace -   as Zusha kicked her knee with one of her feet - very hard. She turned to the Rondaka. Zusha slowly shook her head.
The blonde looked from the deadly serious Zusha to the weeping Tashmal, very confused.
"Your apple juice, Mademellettes."
"Thank you, maid." Zusha said and opened the bottle.
Tashmal had returned from wherever she had been and wiped her eyes and cheeks with one of those handkerchiefs she had to have dozens of.
"Will you ever lit this stick between your fingers, Dana beauty?"
Their eyes met. For the first time ever, Tashmal looked away first.
You poor thing, Dana thought, how can I help you? You need help, the Zoralada said it, and she was right.
She sighed and mouthed her cigarette. The song was over. The guests clasped their hands. Dana did so too. Tashmal and Zusha not.
"Have you a light, Zusha? My matchbox is empty."
"Sure, Lady Dana."
She was Lady Dana now to Zusha, no longer mistress. It sounded far better. She shrugged of the thoughts about Tashmal - once again - and inhaled, as the Rondaka lit her cigarette.
The band and singer began another song, this one sounded light and sunny, even to the point of being funny.
Tashmal laughed and started to translate the songs text. Dana knew she was only pretending to be happy, but anyway, the word we are looking for is anyway...