Echoes of Tragedy

The day had been a long one, and thankfully the village was settling down for the night. The warriors had been served and fed, and gradually each one stumbled off with their favorite sluts to tumble eagerly into the freshly beaten furs. The Free Women had long since retired to their respective homes in search of relaxation and quiet before retiring for the evening while the village slaves finished cleaning up the Long Hall.

Tala, the second slave of the village and slave to the Cheiftan, wiped her brow and sighed with relief as she slipped out of the Long Hall with the bucket of scraps to feed to the livestock and get them settled for the evening. Once this last chore was done, she would have just enough time to slip to the waterfall and bathe the evening's dirt and grime away before making her way back to her Jarl's home to help her chain sister Chy, the First Girl, prepare their Jarl's bath and furs for the night.

Humming softly to herself, an ancient ballad as old as the Northern lands themselves, she made her way eagerly to the barn where the animals waited impatiently to be tended.  As the last mournful notes of the ballad drifted away on the Northern winds, she let herself into the barn and spoke softly to the irritable animals, promising them an extra handful of grain as well as sweet grass for their patience.

Moving to the large barrel of grain, she scooped out two cups of the grain and scattered them along the open area of the barn and then opened the vulo coop, jumping back quickly to avoid the flurry of eager birds as they scrambled for the most feed. While they were busy battling over their evening meal she quickly cleaned out the coop, tossing the dirty hay into a large wheelbarrow nearby to take to the compost pile on her way out and replaced it with fresh hay. The eggs she carefully placed in one of the many hand-crafted wicker baskets stored in the corner, with a small amount of hay inside to cushion them on their way to the cold shed. She occasionally stuffed handfuls of discarded feathers into a small sack at her waist, knowing they would please the Free Women, who often cleaned them and used them to stuff pillows and pincushions.  Her job done, she moved back to where the vulo were squabbling over the last bits of grains and shooed them back into the coop, chuckling softly as the battle continued inside, this time over nesting rights.

Shaking her head over the continued noise coming from the vulos she milked the bosk and brushed her down, talking softly to her as she worked. She knew the beast had no knowledge of the mindless chatter, yet the sound of her soft voice seemed to soothe her irritation for the late tending and a large head turned to nuzzle her hip as she worked, almost as if to say she was forgiven .. for this time at least.  She made quick work of mucking out her stall, eager for her evening bath as the three moons of Gor rose higher in the sky, casting an eerie glow across the village. She filled the water trough with fresh water and added an extra armful of the sweet grass for the bosk as promised and then secured the barn on her way out, after pushing the wheelbarrow of mucked hay to the compost pile around back.  Making one last stop, she put away the basket of fresh eggs in the cold storage for the morning meal, locking the shed behind her as she hurried to her anticpated destination.

The last of the evening chores completed she moved quickly to the waterfall, a smile of pure excitement lighting her delicately carved features.  This land was new to her yet, their village having been moved recently to better grazing, stronger forests and a nearly inpenetrable mountain that only the bravest of warriors would face to ravage. The ongoing war between the North and the South had intensified, and her Jarl had decided it was time to move further into the forbidding mountains, to protect the village He loved and cared for so well.  Her wide, emerald eyes peered into the heavy darkness, only the light of the moons showing her way to the waterfall where she preferred to bathe.  Ducking to avoid the grasping branches of the ancient oaks and pines, she quickened her step as she heard the roar of the water, shivering slightly as the air chilled considerably the closer she got.

Tala frowned, a bit surprised at the sudden chill that swept over her, leaving a trail of small bumps along her exposed skin. She had not bothered to put on her kirtle after serving in the Long Hall, knowing that she would soon be bathing. With the Northern winds crossing the spray of the waterfall, she was used to the drop in temperature, yet something seemed different this time. The chill seemed not from the air or the water, but from an inner sense of despair, though why she was suddenly so melancholy she could not say considering she normally had a very cheerful disposition.  The roar of the waterfall became louder and her steps slowed, depsite her earlier eagerness to bathe in the cold waters of the lake.  She stopped suddenly, a small hand going to her chest as if to quiet the loud beating of her frantic heart and she glanced fearfully in all directions.  The overwhelming urge to weep confused her, and the sudden unexplained fear caused her to remain motionless in the silent forest as she gazed at the waterfall in the distance.

Her eyes widened as she saw what appeared to be a Free Woman standing at the edge of the lake, almost motionless except for the obvious wringing of her hands. The sound of weeping could be heard, so faint as to make Tala think it was only the wind in the Northern pines combined with her fanciful imagination.  She moved slowly forward, her curiosity stronger than her fear as she strained to get a better glimpse. The woman had her back to Tala, but her clothes were obviously those of one that was High Caste, and even more odd they were Southern. Silver clasps that held the woman's veil to hair shone in the glow of the moonlight, and the weeping grew louder as Tala ventured closer.

"Mistress? I beg forgiveness for disturbing You this night, but Your weeping pulls at my heart. Is there something I may help You with? Are You lost perhaps? or injured?"

The weeping stopped abruptly and the woman turned slowly, as if reluctant to speak. Tala saw only her eyes, the wispy veil covering the rest of her face, and they shone brightly.. too brightly... from tears she suspected.. and yet... the skin around Her eyes was so pale, nearly transluscent.  Her arms rose and spread wide, and her palms turned upward in a pleading gesture which caused Tala to stop and stare in shock. A Free Woman would never plead with a lowly slave, yet the utter despair that radiated from the pale, slender form suggested urgency and she slowly moved closer wondering why the Free Woman had not spoken once she stopped her weeping.

An audible gasp slipped from her full lips as she got closer and saw the woman was soaked. The heavy gown dripped and it must be too long for it disappeared right into the ground at her feet. A small hand flew to her mouth as she saw the heavy chain wrapped around the Woman's waist and trailed down the sodden gown, dissapearing into the lake behind her.

"Mistress, what has happened, how did this befall You? You are soaked to the bone and who would dare to chain a Free Woman such as Yourself?"

She started to rush forward but a loud wail from the Woman froze her in her tracks.  In her shock she had not realized that the Waterfall and craggy rocks that surrounded it were visible.. not behind the woman.. but THROUGH the woman.  She whispered softly "Odin save me" as she stared at the woman, finally realizing that the woman was a spirit of her former self, her despair and sorrow having kept her bound to the Gorean realm.

She trembled in shock and fear, unable to run from the utter desperation in the Woman's eyes, and she strained to hear the words that floated out to her.

"Thor.. I must find Him.. He is in danger.. my Father.. he will kill Him.. you must find Him girl, find Him and tell him that His Elenore offers this warning. He must not come for me, for it is a trap laid well by my Father and His warriors...."

Tala was shaking so hard she feared she would faint dead away, yet the Woman's words were laced with urgency and terrible fear. Tala felt as if she WERE this woman... she could feel her sorrow and fear as if it were her own.  Unable to speak she nodded but remained still, unsure of what to do.  The Woman pointed to a large ancient oak near the edge of the lake, the gnarled branches twining and twisting as if to mimic Her own agony.  Tala moved closer, having finally found the courage to speak and asked in a quavering voice,

  "Mistress.. what tragedy has befallen You? Who has done such a terrible thing and who is Your Father?"

Yet no answer was given as the Woman turned slowly and moved forward, drifting across the deep waters of the lake and slowly faded out of sight. Tala stood there gazing at the still waters, as a mixture of fear, confusion, and overwhelming curiosity consumed her. She moved quickly to the ancient tree that the Woman had pointed to, and dropped to her knees, slender fingers digging frantically at the damp soil that covered the roots.

She felt the edges of a box as she dug deeper and her clawing at the soil became more frantic. She finally pulled a silver box free, as clumps of dirt and leaves clung stubbornly to the ornate box. A tiny silver lock kept the lid firmly closed and she cried out in dissapointment as she rose to her feet, her anticpated bath long forgotten after the evening's disturbing events. Clasping the box to her naked breasts, she ignored the pain of the sharp corners as they dug into the plump mounds of flesh and made her way slowly back to the village.... as she contemplated how to explain to the Jarl Thor the odd message that she had recieved......


TO BE CONTINUED.......