Untouched Concubine

Dedicated to lovers and dreamers.

Mandia
held her father’s hand as he condemned the
Farna
soldiers in front of them.
Mandia’s
father spoke softly for a king, saying, “
Farna
destroys everything in its path, takes over countries, forces women and children in ways unspeakable. Your tactics are known, even here in the West. You are all condemned to die by hanging in the morning.”

           
But there was a small boy among them, and
Mandia
couldn’t see how her father would even consider taking this one to his death. She tugged his hand. “Father, but the child…”

           
He glanced down at her and squeezed her hand. “He will grow into a monster.”

           
“But he could be my friend. He could be a neighbor.”

           
“He dies. You’ll understand when you are older,
Mandia
.”

           
Mandia
let go of her father’s hand and walked to the boy. He had his head down, shaggy, dark hair covering his face. He didn’t shake or show fear. She sensed shame. Shame at what, she wondered.

           
“I don’t want you to die,” she whispered to him.

           
He lifted his green eyes to hers. He spoke in another language,
then
bowed his head again.

           
Mandia
turned and begged, “Please, Father, don’t kill him, please.
For me.”

           
“
Mandia
, go back home. I brought you here to see what your enemies look like, their curly hair and green, glowing eyes. Like wild cats they are, and as viscous as wild beasts. I educate you. Now go.” He still spoke softly.

           
Mandia
left in tears.

~~~

           
Eight years passed since the
Farna
soldiers had been hung. Her father had not let her watch that day, but she knew it happened.

Mandia
was now eighteen, with hips her mother said would pop out babies in a matter of minutes and a bust that balanced them well. It wasn’t fashionable to be so curvy, but being a princess was. Still,
Mandia
would have had her share of male companions had the war not been raging for two years. Her home city of
Crona
was at the edge of the sea, and the war between her homeland and the kingdom of
Lenn
to the south was encroaching on
Crona
. Lenn’s King Herean was deadly, bloodthirsty and terrifying the whole county, taking every society down in his vicious path. Any day, the city would be filled with sword fighting and pillaging. Her father had died on the battlefield a year ago, and
Crona
was falling apart without his wise leadership.

           
Mandia
was afraid. She twisted her straight, blond hair into knots and let the ends fray, not wanting to appear in any way attractive to the
Lenn
fighters who would most likely capture their city of
Crona
by the end of the week.

           
It seemed like the city should be in madness. But it was quiet. Nobody left their houses. Most soldiers were dead; they had been protecting outlying posts of the kingdom. Lenn’s takeover was going to happen and there was nothing anyone could do, so they all stayed silent and prayed to the goddesses of the sky and light to make their deaths swift and to carry them into the clouds to rest for eternity.

           
The men would be killed straight away.

           
The women’s fates would be worse.

~~~

           
The fires could be seen to the south.
Lenn
was coming for
Crona
.
Mandia
hid in her bed, scared, but assured something
would happen, anything would
happen to prevent the end so many were frightened of.

           
A knock on her door.

           
“
Mandia
,” whispered her mother. She opened the door and came in. She was carrying a blue cloth bag and wearing men's clothes. Her own blond hair was tucked into a baggy cap. In her other hand she carried clothes.

           
“Mother, what are you doing?”

           
“We’re leaving.
Tonight.
I will not let them hurt you.
Or me.
Put on these clothes.”

           
Mandia
got out of bed and took the clothing. They were
Crona
men’s clothes, brown pants made from cotton and a black, slip-over dock worker’s shirt.

           
“And a hat to cover your hair,” her mother added, handing it to her.
Mandia
pushed her knotted hair into the hat and put on the clothes.

           
“Don’t be scared,” her mother said. “I know a safe place we can go. Speak to no one. Let me do all the talking. You are my son now. You hear me?” She looked over
Mandia
.
“Those breasts.
We have to do something about them. Take off your shirt.”

           
Mandia
did. Her mother took a scarf from
Mandia’s
dresser and wrapped her breasts tightly against her body so she could hardly breathe.

           
“You just had to get your grandmother’s form. Come now, we go out the servant’s door.”

~~~

           
They traveled for three nights, sleeping in the day.
Mandia
tried to forget the sounds of the screams from
Crona
in the distance that first day, the smells of the burning city, and her heart wept for all her people’s terrible fates. What would her own be?

           
On the fourth day, they travelled all day, too, and
Mandia
and her mother reached a brook in the forest. They had been following a deer path, and her mother hadn’t explained why she knew the way. They had run into a couple of bandits along the path, but not much was said. Her mother used a gruff, low voice and spoke with a
Lenn
accent. The bandits showed no interest in
Mandia
.

           
They slept by the brook that night and near dawn,
Mandia’s
mother woke her. “We need to bathe.
Must keep clean so we don’t get sick.
We bathe by the last of the starlight.”

           
“Where are we going, Mother?”
Mandia
had learned long ago to only speak to her mother when being spoken to. It was a
Crona
tradition that daughters respect their mothers above all else. It was a way of give homage to the goddesses. But she was scared and needed to know something, anything.

           
“I know of a place.
In
Lenn
.
I know
Lenn
is responsible for the king’s death and the destruction of our whole society, but there is a haven there. It is hidden, but I have been given instructions. Trust me, lovely daughter. Now undress so we can bathe.”

           
They stripped off their clothes.
Mandia
was glad to have the scarf off her chest and took a deep breath before slipping into the cool brook waters. She untied the greasy knots from her locks and used the soap her mother gave her to rinse all over her skin and hair. It felt wonderful and she spread out in the water and closed her eyes.

           
She felt a hand grab her wrist. “Got you, you sneaky little girl.”

           
She opened her eyes in terror. A man stood above her, holding her arm now, and grabbing at her hips with his other hand. She looked over his shoulder and saw her mother being dragged out of the water by another man with his hand over her mouth.

           
Mandia
fought her captor, but to no avail. He pulled her from the brook and laid her flat on her belly, tying her hands behind her back. She saw the other man doing the same to her mother.

           
The man with her mother said, “Throw them in the cage with a blanket over them. Gag them. Do not dare touch them or I’ll kill you. This young one will get a very nice price.”

           
Mandia
still struggled as the man who caught her picked her up and loaded her twisting, naked body into a wooden cage. Her mother was put in after her. The men gagged them with foul-tasting rags.

           
“Make a sound and you’re both dead, slowly dead.” They threw a blanket over them and
Mandia
felt the cage being lifted onto a cart.

           
The men must have been some of the bandits they’d run into on the deer path. Her mother’s disguises hadn’t been good enough. Why didn’t they hear them coming? Had they come in the night? Who were these men? Who were they going to sell them to?
And worse, what for?

~~~

           
They were only ungagged to be fed, and only at night. Her mother whispered warm words of comfort, but her eyes betrayed her fear.
Mandia
was not shy about her nakedness, but she was cold. The blanket over then was nothing more than a wool tarp and a chill ate at
Mandia
at all times.

           
How many days passed this way?
Mandia
was more afraid for her mother than herself. The woman looked weaker every time they were fed. Most likely, she would become a slave and
Mandia
would become a man's plaything. She could find an escape, she had to. She knew she was clever, but if they were parted, she would never give up looking for her mother.

           
It was late afternoon the first time the bandits stopped and lifted the tarp by daylight. Two men stood before them.

           
They had long, curly brown hair and gleaming green eyes.

           
One bandit said, "Look at their golden hair."

           
One of the
Farnans
said, "They are dirty and underfed. How do you treat your slaves?"

           
The other bandit said, "Do you want them or not? The young one is beautiful enough to be a concubine for a soldier. Look at her eyes and breasts."

           
The same
Farnan
spoke again. "Wash them and bring them back here tomorrow. And for Goddess's sake, dress them." His accent was thick, but
Mandia
understood every word.

           
The next day,
Mandia
and her mother walked, wrists tied, through a chilly forest. The landscape was so foreign to
Mandia
, who was used to the sea. The
Farnans
looked long upon them, and one nodded his curly-haired head.