RASHKA LION

By Don Blane

Copyright resides with author
Extract from book available at bdsmbooks.com

Chapter 1. On Patrol

“We’ll set them up on the ridge,” said Yegane. “We best dismount.” Raising her hand, she indicated to the other three camel girls behind her to halt and dismount their beasts.  Amidst much rumbling and moaning from the camels that groaned like angry old men, the girls dismounted and lead the camels up the steep slope that took them to the top the ridge that went the thirty odd miles, all the way to the old Riff town of Rashka.

It was still three hours before noon, but already the desert sun was making its presence felt and the four girls found the hard climb up the ridge hot work.

“I hate patrolling this ridge,” said the second in command to Yegane. “I don’t know what it is, but I always feel somebody is watching me when I’m up here,” she complained.

“As long as you stay well clear of the town of Rashka itself, you are generally alright,” Yegane assured her companion. “Camel girl patrols have been on this ridge for years.”

Yegane thought back to the time some years back when she was on an ill fated patrol just like the one she commanded now. They too had found themselves on this ridge, but on that occasion, they were dangerously low on water and had insufficient to get back to fort Araf. The commander of the patrol had made some serious errors. There was nothing for them to do, but under cover of night, attempt to steal into the town, take what water they needed and make away, unseen and unheard. The idea was sound, its execution less than perfect. That and the Riffs almost uncanny ability to smell intruders resulted in the four of them getting caught.

Less fair minded Sheiks than the old ruler Abdul Mateen (The strong one), would probably have arrested and tried them for spying. A sentence that could have resulted in them all being stoned to death, but the old Sheik was wiser than that. He had their water vessels checked and had their camels inspected. He knew when soldier girls - or anybody else for that matter - were lying to him and he had no desire to execute girls who told the truth. It would have been quite within the realms of reasonable behaviour to have arrested them, branded and enslaved them for a two-year term. Instead, he had the four of them publicly flogged with fifty lashes and sent on their way. He was hard, but fair. Even now, if Yegane thought back to that flogging the tough desert Riffs put her to, she quailed again. She was no stranger to the lash. Like any other soldier girl, she had taken floggings aplenty, but that Riff lashing stood out among the miasma of torture she had undergone at fort Araf. Long, hot, sweaty floggings standing under the old fort whipping posts were unpalatable, but all too frequent events. That one Riff flogging made even Yegane cry out a few dozen times.

More galling than that though, was the fact that scant few years after, the Araf fort commandant, a stern arrogant bitch that was harder then the dogs she held sway over was taken ignominiously one day by the Talasians, bound with barbed cords and hauled behind horses for a long, slow execution at the next Talasian town for crimes nobody in the fort were quite sure of and she was promptly replaced by the leader of Yegane’s patrol. An appointment that was as unpopular as it was unwarranted. Since then, the fort had been commanded by a hard, stern commandant, who liked sex only a little more than she liked watching those under her command being whipped and tortured on the slightest pretext.

Yegane was a beauty indeed. Twenty-five years old, she had been in the army for seven years, a good stretch, but not unusual for a camel girl. Full bodied and voluptuous, she more than filled her loose, crop legged white knit pants that soldier girls wore and her complementing bolero top and jacket. Her mop of blonde hair was buried in the white turban wrap that she and her counterparts wore, but her blonde hair that was an attractive contrast to her dark brown, almond shaped eyes and sun-kissed, honey hued skin. She had joined the army at just eighteen years old, after the dead-end slog of turning up each morning at the work hut, to be dispensed to some farm for labouring work. Yegane took to army life, despite its harshness and severity and was quickly put into special training as a camel girl, a faction of the women’s desert army that called for specialist training and specialist girls. Such women were well trained in swordplay and desert survival skills, as well as gaining intimate knowledge of the desert area they patrolled.

As they rode the ridge top, suddenly, out of the heat haze appeared riders. Broken and distorted by the shimmering heat, they were unclear and indistinct at first, but slowly, as the two groups approached each other, so the details of the troupe emerged. First two riders, then four, then more became apparent. Moreover, they were on horses not camels that meant they were Riffs, almost certainly from Rashka.

“Strange!” Mused Yegane, “Riffs being up here.” The Riffs generally left the ridge to the camel girls. Eventually, the two groups met four camel girls and eight Riffs.

“What business do you have up here?” Toned the leading Riff, a tough looking man, as indeed they all were. Yegane was taken aback by the question.

“We are camel girls on patrol from fort Araf. This ridge is part of our patrol assignment,” Yegane replied.

“It shouldn’t be,” the Riff cut in curtly. “You have no business here. No soldier girls should be here. This is Riff territory.”

“We have always patrolled here. You must know that,” Yegane said in a more plaintive tone.

“I am telling you, this is Riff territory, you are under arrest,” said the Riff and to that, all the others drew their swords. The message was clear. “You will dismount,” ordered the Riff. At first, none of the girls moved and then the Riff sounded threatening, “…Now!” Even with the training the camel girls had, to try and battle their way past outnumbered two to one was beyond reason and Yegane had little or no option, but to do as she was ordered.

Making clear her feeling of outrage, Yegane dismounted and the other girls in her patrol followed suit. With that, they were led away, prisoners to a Riff patrol. They were taken in the direction of Rashka, but instead of continuing along the ridge, until it lowered and petered out up to the town perimeter, they struck due North, making for the large Riff oasis of Bargaraff.

This was one of the options the ill-fated patrol Yegane had been part of had open to them when they found themselves short of water. Yegane and the other two girls tried to reason with their patrol leader that trying to get to the oasis undetected rather than the town was a better option. The leader did not like the long detour such an undertaking would have entailed and they were all soundly whipped for the patrol leader’s poor decision.

As they trekked across the ridge, bound in line behind the Riff horses, their camels behind them, Yegane had a horrible feeling that the four of them were walking towards another stern test under a Riff lash and it was not a pleasant premonition.