Authors: Darryl T. Mallard
******
The cell, Barrat had been in it for three years, but liberation was at hand. It had taken Terrence two years to find his lord’s exact location below the palace, and another year to plan the break, but the day had come. The Queen and a good portion of her personal guard were away and those that stayed were careless. Unnecessary killing was avoided, but silence was crucial. What they found in that cell barely resembled the young man he remembered. His hair had turned white and he was gaunt, but his feline eyes burned with feral life.
“Brother!” gasped the horrified Terrence. “By the goddess!”
“You’re…late,” croaked the wretched man.
“We’ve got you now, my lord!” Terrence could barely breathe for the stench and the filth. In fury he broke the control collar around Barrat’s neck and flung the pieces across the cell.
“My son’s body,” gasped Barrat, “bring it.” The tiny skeleton was gathered up and quickly the small group fled the dungeon, palace and city. It would be some time before anyone would even realize what had even happened. Few ever visited that place to begin with.
******
Three Months Later
Although out of sight, Barrat had never been out of mind as far as Queen Maya was concerned. He had resisted all efforts to force him to confess, and there were now those even among the more conservative Mavie who doubted his guilt. She had sent for a provincial chieftess who had been the first to have contact with Barrat and questioned her about his character and the events in the capital. Sonja’s words did little to take away the lingering doubts of his possible innocence and vindication for her actions.
“Oh yes, he was a troublemaker to be sure,” said Chieftess Sonja, “but a ravager? Never! I knew that boy well, VERY well, and I assure you, that was not his nature…in my opinion.”
“We had proof, witnesses,” replied Maya. “And there were the victims as well.”
Sonja looked at the queen for a moment, and then said, “Well, you must have been sure if you condemned and tortured him. Perhaps he did change after he left the wild. A city really is no place for a feral such as him. By the way, how strong are these victims he so savagely beat and raped?”
“The coward targeted females only as strong, or a
little
stronger, than humans,” Rachel said in disgust.
“And they survived?!” exclaimed Sonja. “The Barrat I remember was strong enough to seriously injure strong mutants, even males, with but a fraction of his might. If these weaklings were so brutally attacked I would imagine Barrat to be raping corpses.” The assembled Mavie were silent. “Hmmm, you know, I tried to get a control collar on that boy’s neck for months during his stay in my village, but you managed to get him to put one on himself? This is very strange behavior for a guilty man.”
“A ploy to fool us,” said Rachel. “We now had his scent and witnesses.”
“It was he,” said Maya.
“But
he
also had witnesses to prove his innocence, did he not?”
“Men,” snapped Rachel. “And many confessed to their lie later.”
“Under torture,” said Sonja. “Did you use telepaths on these men to prove their sincerity?” There was silence at this. “I see. Well, as I have said, you must have been sure, my queen, to have gone so far. At any rate, the thing is done and the dead can’t be brought back.” Maya’s frame shook slightly at this remark. “There is trouble brewing in the woods. The feral bands are rallying to Barrat, and he is not as he was. Towns have been attacked and all females taken alive have been collared and enslaved. Strange, no rumors of him raping though, I would imagine that with his hands no longer tied, Barrat would be…”
“We took his man parts!” snarled a woman. “We took his stones, but left the yard! Some of us wanted to take it all, but some still believed
real
proof was lacking, so we decided it was better to let him keep one…just to please the fools. At least we know his line ends with him.” There was laughter at this. Sonja and her warriors did not laugh. Neither did the queen.
“We will crush him,” said Maya quietly. “You may go.”
******
It was a month later, and the warriors of Mavie and Barrat were facing each other in battle again. The skies were full of winged mutants. Queen Maya would not take part in the battle though because of her condition. Solely for the purpose of reproduction had she taken the Lady Rachel as her mate, and due to Rachel’s ability to cross-gender shift, Maya conceived from her. Strangely, Maya’s mother, Mavie, who had at first spoken for Rachel, was not in favor of the match. She gave no reason why other than that she was not worthy to mate with her daughter. However, Rachel was now Maya’s closest friend and most trusted supporter, and the hardline Mavie loved her. So now, Maya sat and surveyed the battlefield from a safe distance, Rachel ever at her side.
“Have you noticed,” said Maya, “there are no women among the Barratian warriors now.” Rachel nodded. She, too, had marked this.
“We outnumber them three to one,” said one of Maya’s chiefs. “We could win by sheer numbers alone.”
“Signal the battle to commence,” said Queen Maya, and the horns began to sound. Immediately, Mavie warriors of rank began charging out to challenge Barratian warriors of equal rank, but this time the Barratians totally ignored these challenges and silently moved into their battle positions. Queen Maya, and indeed many of her chiefs and generals, felt a chill at the sight of this. Maya felt a chill again as she saw the white haired warrior stalk out to the front of his warriors. Slowly, in disciplined ranks, the Barratians began to advance. “Order a charge,” said Maya quietly, and the order was given. With a terrible roar, the Mavie charged and in front was a woman who had been Barrat’s alleged second victim.
“I’ll have your head to go with the rest, you bastard!” she screamed, a war club held high. Barrat smoothly side-stepped the downward swing, and with seemingly little effort, back handed her and sent her flying several feet. She crashed into and collapsed a group of charging Mavie and disappeared in the mass of charging warriors. Barrat then transformed fully, lifted up his head and roared in fury. He then charged into the Mavie ranks alone and slaughtered anyone and everyone around him. His warriors advanced behind him, engaging any attacking Mavie who wisely chose to avoid the giant panther and attacked his followers instead, but these fared little better. In the skies above the Mavie flyers were being overwhelmed by larger Barratians, many of which were capable of full or partial transformation. Torn and ripped by beak and talon or shot down by wing archers the Mavie flyers began to scatter leaving their sisters on the ground vulnerable to aerial attack and sniping. In the midst of the enemy ranks, the advancing Barratians could see the bodies of broken and screaming Mavie warriors flying into the air behind their massed ranks, as Barrat vented his fury. Soon the Mavie lines began to break up and scatter and the Barratians charged in screaming in fury. The disorganized screaming Mavie were being cut down in droves. Almost to a woman, the humans were killed. The mutant Mavie put up a better fight, but this was no longer individual based combat, warrior against warrior, where the most skilled or strongest won and prisoners were taken. No, this was an altogether different kind of battle. The disciplined and ordered ranks of the Barratians left no gaps to exploit, each man covering the others flank. Many a Mavie died crying out for someone to fight her in personal combat, but the Barratians would not so honor the Mavie any longer. This was a new form of warfare. The Barratians now fought to kill, not for glory, fun or to take captives, and a bloodbath ensued. Ironically, the only one fighting as an individual warrior still was their leader, Barrat, and certain death awaited any and all who foolishly came near to him. Indeed, he was soon forced to charge into the now running groups of terrified Mavie, his warriors now acting as clean-up. Finally, after only fifteen minutes of battle, the horrified Mavie command ordered a full retreat. The defiant and victorious Barratians did not chase.
Later, one of the women who had named Barrat as her attacker was brought before Queen Maya alive, her neck broken and paralyzed from the neck down.
“If that monster hadn’t done enough to you,” said Rachel in disgust.
“He will be brought to justice for this,” said Maya gravely.
“Q…Queen Maya,” sobbed the stricken woman, “I…I don’t think it was him.”
“Of course it was him,” said Maya, sadly. “Privation and torture may have turned his hair white, but I assure you, it
was
him.”
“No, no,” said the woman trying to shake her head. “The rapist, the man who attacked me…I don’t think it
was
him.”
“What?” Maya said in confusion.
“I…I know, my queen, but…I swear, in all my life, I’ve never been hit so hard as when that man struck me today. I remember attacking him and him striking me. I remember flying into my comrades and hitting the ground. I remember trying to rise and then …nothing else. Worse, although I attacked him with all I had, he paid me as little attention as you would an annoying gnat! And he swatted me aside as such, with little effort.” The woman sobbed. “That forest chieftess was right. If it truly had been that man beating me with such force and effort to make me yield to him, I’d been dead. I dare say he would have taken what he wanted from me without such effort at all. I…I tortured, castrated an innocent man!”
“Take her away,” said Maya softly.
“Poor girl,” said Rachel shaking her head. “That blow must have knocked her brains loose. In any case, she will never be able to do anything but talk now. Perhaps it would be a kindness to end her life.”
Maya looked at Rachel a long moment, and then turned away. “No,” she said. “Her words are enough. And I would hear more of them.”
******
It had been seventeen years since the disgraced Lord Barrat escaped and the savage war between the Mavie and Barratians began. Today the queen and her nobles celebrated both the princess Dalia’s sixteenth birthday and an unexpected victory over the Barratians earlier that week. The princess was drinking and laughing with her friends, but her parents didn’t seem quite so jovial. Her mother had always been a quiet woman, at least as
she
had ever known her. It had been confided to her by others that she was once a very lively and happy woman before the beast, Barrat, betrayed her. As for her other parent…Well, the two didn’t seem to get along anymore. Again, once they too were close, and Mother Rachel stood high in her confidences, but that was in the past. No one really seemed to know why the queen gradually stopped sharing her confidence and bed with Rachel, but it was rumored that this also had something to do with that bastard, Barrat. Dalia’s grandmother, the great ‘Mavie’ seemed to dislike Rachel, but for reasons Dalia couldn’t understand, kept her peace. Ironically, Mavie never said a word about Barrat in a definitively negative way. Only that he was a threat to their way of life. Others were less tight lipped though, but when she asked the queen about these things, Maya’s eyes would become sad and she would refuse to speak of it. Naturally, Dalia took this as proof of Barrat’s guilt in the matter. As far as Dalia was concerned, Barrat was a predator that got what he deserved and the enemy of all women. She looked forward to killing him herself.
The Lady Rachel had been drinking heavily this night and she was lonely. She had wanted to be the queen’s mate, and the Queen Mother had helped her…for a price. Now, however, the Queen Mother hated her because of the work she’d done for her, or perhaps the unforeseen events because of it. Maya, still clueless to the real truth, for some reason treated her with cold indifference now and would no longer shared her warmth with her. Rachel was Bellasarian, and that meant beautiful. She was tall and curvy, but not very busty. Her hair was dirty blond. Other women found her attractive, why not Maya?
Rachel looked over and spied a small blond woman silently enjoying her drink. Rachel drank in the woman’s juicy figure. Unknown to the other woman, Rachel had enjoyed her body once before and had never quite forgotten her. Rachel stood up drunkenly and staggered over to the smaller woman’s place.
“Ah, Lady Viviane,” Rachel said as she sat down. “Drinking alone?”
“Uh, Lady Rachel…hello,” said the smaller woman nervously. Viviane didn’t like the look in Rachel’s eyes. She had seen lust of that sort before, nearly twenty years ago. It was on the face of the hated Lord Barrat before he raped her. She shied away from Rachel, but the queen’s consort insisted on conversing.
From her throne, Queen Maya watched the two with interest that soon began to turn to disgust as she saw her
official
mate making unwanted advances on the poor woman. The smaller noblewoman was trying to be polite, but Rachel, deep in her cups, was becoming more and more insistent. The blond angrily, but politely, continued to rebuffed her advances. Finally, Rachel lost her patience, temper and common sense all at once.
“You silly little bitch!” she cried. Everyone turned to see what the commotion was. “You think you’re so special? Or maybe you
still
have a taste for men? I can be a man for you.”
“Get away from me you drunken fool!” snapped the smaller woman, now out of patience. “I have no interest in men or you!”
“You gave me pleasure once before you little tramp!” said Rachel. “I just want to make
you
feel good this time.”