Chapter 2: Inspected, Stripped and Chained

Chapter 2: Inspected, Stripped and Chained

Eventually a pair of nobles came to inspect them. Serena assumed they were nobles from the colorful royal blue dress, the quality of its cloth, and the manner in which others deferred to them. One was a tall man of about her father’s age and of regal bearing. As he approached, Serena could see that he had a scar across the left side of his face, running from near the ear down into his neatly trimmed van dyke beard. His eyes were dark and cruel, the eyes of a man used to being in command and caring very little for the welfare of others. The man behind him was younger, a handful of years beyond Serena, and not as tall. He still had the dark eyes and trim beard, and resembled the older man, but she had the feeling those eyes could smile – if he wished them to. They were not smiling now.

The two of them looked along the line of bound maidens in the exact same manner as if they were inspecting cattle or horseflesh. Serena could feel their eyes looking right through the pale blue dress she wore, and lingering on her ample breasts straining against the cloth from her hands being bound behind her. The younger one seemed to take longer in his perusal of her body, seeming to concentrate on her slender waist and long legs. She had a good figure, she knew, and right then wished it were not quite so womanly. She did not like when men looked at her like that.

The two stood off a ways and seemed to be discussing the results of their inspection. The younger one seemed to be indicating an interest in her. But was that for her good or not? She had no idea.

The two them gave orders to the handful of men standing around in the dark green uniforms of servants, then left. The girls were ordered to march off into the building via a side door, not the massive main entrance, the doors of which stood open at that time. A man with a riding crop in his hand gave the orders and stood by as they were taken down some stone stairs and into a large room with several doorways leading off. There were no windows there, and the only light came from large candles.

“Stand there,” they were commanded, the spot being indicated by the pointing of the riding crop. “Strip them.”

Cindra gasped as her dress was grabbed, and she tried to back away. Immediately the riding crop lashed out to bite at her flank. With a yelp, she twisted away from it, but the man had a good hold of her dress so she could not get away. With fear in her eyes, she looked at the man with the crop. Suddenly her dress was being ripped from her body. The strong male hands parted the cloth easily, pulled it away to reveal the only undergarment she wore, a pair of pantaloons that came down only to mid-thigh. She yelled when the man reached for them, but the strike of the riding crop against her bottom cut it off. The pantaloons quickly were torn off, leaving her with nothing to cover her modesty, not even her hands.

Cindra was crying as the man moved to the next in line: Moria. Being the youngest and smallest, it surprised the men when her dress was ripped off to reveal a very pleasing pair of breasts of unexpected size and firmness. She was definitely not a child. Like Cindra, Moria began crying as her underwear was roughly removed.

Kandra was next. She stood still and looked defiantly at the man as he reached for her dress. She was actually an inch or so taller than him, and one solidly built woman. Had her hands not been tied, and not many jailers surrounding them, she might have taken that man and taught him a lesson he would not soon forget. Serena had seen her best some of the boys at wrestling – even though boy-girl matches were frowned upon by the adults. But her hands were bound and she stood meekly as the dress was torn off her. When her body was finally revealed, the guards paused for a few moments to marvel at the fine muscle tone and powerful build of the woman. Several made crude comments about what it would be like to bed her. Kandra did not react to their suggestions but Serena could sense the anger built up inside her friend. If one of those men tried to perform any of the suggested acts upon her, he had better beware. And make sure she remained bound.

Serena did her best to not react to the removal of her clothing, but it was not easy. She had willingly undressed for Torson and Tell, but that was totally different. These men, all six of them, were strangers, and a crude bunch at that. The way they looked at her naked body made her skin crawl. What thoughts were roving through their minds, she did not wish to contemplate. Their eyes seemed to devour her curves and firm muscles, not to mention the proud, young breasts sticking out so wonderfully.

When all four of them were naked and helpless before their captors, the only sound in the stone walled room was the soft weeping from Moria and Cindra. It was the man with the crop who gave the orders.

“Chain all of them,” he said. “But one at a time. Don’t leave any of them free.” He was looking at Kandra as he said it.

Serena felt her hands being untied and was grateful for that. The hemp ropes had been bound tightly for a long time, and her wrists were sore from her struggles. Bringing her hands around in front, she winced at the red circles around her wrists. But she had little time to worry about that. Her arms were grabbed by two men and pulled behind her again. She felt cold iron against the sore wrists, and hear the click as the bands were shut around them. When she was released, her hands could separately no more than when they were bound with the ropes. Those two iron bands were welded together, not chained.

She watched as the others were shackled in the same manner. The guards worked with efficiency and took only a few minutes to finish that part of their tasks. The second part involved the attachment of similar iron bands to their ankles, this time connected by a short chain. Serena, still trying to note everything she could, saw that the bands around both wrists and ankles had keyholes. But the keys were not needed to secure the bands, so she had no chance to see where they were kept.

“Take those three to number six,” came the order. Serena was surprised to find that the three so designated did not include her. Why was she to be treated differently?

She watched as her friends shuffled towards a corridor, taking very small steps. Walking normally, let along running, was impossible with ankles so closely joined, and even walking could be painful.

“Come along,” the headman said to her, taking her by the bare arm and leading her towards a different doorway. The last she saw of her friends, they were being taken down a corridor lined with iron barred doors. Her destination did not have a barred door, but a solid one made of heavy oak and banded in steel. It swung open slowly and even creaked as it did. She was forced inside to find herself in a small room. Several iron rings adorned the walls, and only one small window above head height. That was all. The room was dimly lit by the sunlight coming in that window.

She was pushed down to her knees by strong male hands, then turned and laid on her side on the stone floor. A short chain from one ring was wrapped around her neck and fastened with a lock. Another ring on the opposite wall was pulled to her feet and locked to the chain joining them. The headman was the last to leave, but stood over her for a long time, just looking down at her. Then he shook his head and left.

The door closed and she heard it locked. She tested the chains holding her stretched out on the floor, but she knew before she even began that she could do nothing against them. The chain around her neck bothered her the most. It was not tight, but snug enough so she constantly felt it.

It did not take long to find that there was no comfortable way to position her naked body. The stone was cold, not icy, but far from comfortable. And it was hard. All she had to judge the passage of time was the reflected sunlight falling into her cell.

She could not block the memories of her father falling to the ground, pierced by a soldier’s sword. Mingled with anxiety about her own fate was the worry about what her mother would do. She had lost her husband and one daughter. She would be unable to keep up their contribution to the farming. Serena could only hope that the other villagers would help her mother and younger sister.

But her thoughts kept returning to her fate. She expected the door to open and guards to come in with the intent of using her body to satisfy their lusts. It was an image she did not wish to contemplate but could also not push away. She had heard too many stories about what was done to kidnapped girls.

Eventually, she could not longer hold back the tears and a dam-burst of emotion gushed forth. She cried for her father, her mother and friends. And for herself.