A Matched Set

A Matched Set

Ceylos had been on his mission for more than a year now and he was nearly done. His master had visited an associate who had shown his master a fine set of four nearly identical matched horses, red, white, black and light brown, drawing an unimaginably rich carriage. His master, not to be outdone had commissioned Ceylos to find a bevy of matched slave girls from Khitai, Stygia, Aquilonia, Cimmerria and Zingara. All were to be of exceptional health, beauty, proportion and under the age of 5 so they could be well trained in the courtesanly arts, as entertainment for his associates on their visits. Ceylos' master envisioned a sight of unparalleled loveliness, in a jewel box setting to impress even the princes of his land.

So far Ceylos had been more than fortunate. He purchased a suitable Khitai whelp from a Hyrkanian village that was having hard times. He took a likely Stygian brat whose parents had been chosen by Set, before any nearby onlookers realised he was there and gone. In northern Aquilonia he had found a band of thugs that needed money bad enough to risk the penalties of kidnaping a comely child he had set his sights on.

In Cimmeria he had troubles though. The uncivilized barbarians seemed to have an irrational anger about slavery, especially concerning children. He had to keep the children either hidden in the carts or he had to pass them off as children to his older slaves that he could treat as associates. Fortunately, a few beatings had quickly trained the urchins to obey his commands, though he had to use care not to leave permanent marks.

Finally though the gods smiled on him. Coming over a hill his party was witness to the end of a fight between a trading party of Cimmerians and a band of Vanir raiders. Before being being overcome the Cimmerians managed to weaken the Vanir to the point that Ceylos' party finished them off easily. As a bonus from the gods, fully half of the Cimmerian trade goods had escaped being burned, which made killing off the badly wounded Cimmerians merely logical. It was as he was packing the goods into his wagons he found the girl-child hidden below some cloth goods. A quick look showed she was suitable for his needs, attractive, clean, alert and strangely calm. He put her in with the others and doubled his pace. He couldn't explain the chill he felt, but he wanted more than anything to be out of Cimmeria and on the road to Zingara.

Two weeks later, he was still a week from the Aquilonian border. Weather, raiding parties and gods cursed luck had driven him almost in circles it seemed. His "kittens" as he called them, had learned their new names, which took fewer beatings to teach them than he thought would be necessary. Unfortunately for them, his imagination for names was poor. Khitiana was the Khitian, Khitya was the Stygian, Khiti was the Cimmerian and Kitikat was the Aquilonian. They were quiet though, and they were eerily close, whispering to each other, sometimes communicating with only their eyes it seemed. That and Ceylos' great desire to be out of Cimmeria had him deeply on edge.

The morning dawned, a cold gray mist laying over the land. As Ceylos' party broke camp after morning meal, they heard the plodding of a small cavalcade of riders. A group of less than ten riders came slowly past the camp out of the mist. Leading them was a large dark haired Cimmerian with gray eyes. His party consisted of several nationalities but did not appear to be brigands or raiders. Their discipline was such that Ceylos imperceptibly relaxed, feeling no threat. As they passed, the Cimmerian's eyes scoured the camp, missing nothing.

The group slowed, and the leader rode forward, straight to Ceylos. "Fine goods you have there trader, you seem to be new to the area. First trip?" he said.

"Yes, it is."

"Few traders make it as far north as Brannor village for their trade goods." said the leader, nodding toward the wagon piled with the Cimmerian goods they had scavenged.

"We actually didn't need to make it as far as Brannor, they were brought down for trade by the Brannor folk themselves" said Ceylos.

The leader dismounted his horse, leaving it ground-hitched, and was turning to walk toward Ceylos when a rustle from behind him caught both their attention. It was Khyti, poking her head around the corner of a wagon, her blue-gray eyes peering intently at the Cimmerian.

"Please sir, I want to go home, not be a slave!"

His eyes filling with horror, Ceylos quickly turned to the Cimmerian, reaching desparately for the words to buy his way out of this predicament. The last thing he saw was the flash of the Cimmerian's sword being drawn with the speed of a leopard.

"Brannor IS the trading point for the northern tribes fool" said the leader as he spat on the Ceylos' corpse.

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**** A village in Cimmeria ****

"The girls are adjusting wonderfully don't you think?" said Berithia, as she leaned back against her husband watching the girls play.
"Yes they are. Are you sure you don't mind? Crom may still yet bless us with some of our own." said Morrach.
"Not a bit. I told you I wanted dozens! And who could separate such a close set of sweethearts as these four?" she giggled as she jumped up to get Kitikat, who had scraped her knee and was working up to cry.

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(( I will post individual bios of my characters as I can get them invented lol, but I wanted the their beginning written down. ))

Thanks for the bio and it's great to have you! Welcome!

Nicely done Khitiana