It was midafternoon before Dana's hunger overcame her excitement at
being on Sandeman, hiking with her chosen lord--her thakur, in the
Sandeman term she preferred--and trying to track a balik. She hadn't
gotten within two hundred meters of the wolflike predator, and had
finally realized she wasn't going to, so the two found a small clearing
with bare rocks which made decent seating. Jason dug hot-cans of trail
food out of his hiking pack, Dana did the same with cold-cans of
fortified milk, and they sat eating and drinking in silence. They were
putting the empty cans back in their packs when Dana began looking
around, frowning.
"What is it?" Jason asked.
"I thought I heard something . . . brushing against branches, snow
falling . . . but no other predators would invade a balik's territory,
and it's probably kilometers away by now."
"Other tourists, maybe. Clan Torrance is supposed to have a hunting
party in the area, but they aren't due till tomorrow noon."
Dana made a face. "I was hoping we wouldn't see anyone else till we
got to the pickup point."
"So was I--but not even I can have everything my own way all the
time."
"No," Dana agreed with a chuckle, "you just come close. Maybe if we
leave now?"
"I think it's too late." Jason stood as half a dozen men entered the
clearing. "Good afternoon, gentles."
"Not for you it isn't," the obvious leader said. "You don't go
anywhere without a couple thousand credits petty cash, Mister
Jason--hand it over."
"In the mountains?" Jason laughed. "Not even I carry cash where
there's nothing to buy and no bodyguards."
"Like hell," the leader said pleasantly. "Hand it over, Jason, or we
take it out of your hide."
"I told you, I don't have anything to hand over."
"Then we'll take what you don't have." The leader gave a hand signal,
and his men surrounded Jason. He grunted and swore at them, his voice
holding a mixture of disgusted anger and pain.
"NO!" Dana shouted, jumping on the back of one man and wrapping her
left arm around his throat, her right hand against the back of his
head, her left reaching for her right elbow for a neck-breaking hold.
She was pulled off before she could complete it, held securely despite
her struggles while the attackers gave her thakur a fast frisking.
"Hell, he was telling the truth," the leader finally said in disgust.
"No trace of a wallet or anything that'd hold that kind of cash." He
backhanded Jason, almost casually. "You've been one hell of a lot of
trouble, Jason, for no return. Want to try convincing us we shouldn't
kill you for it?"
"You can't kill him!" Dana exclaimed, horrified. "He's-- You just
can't!" She took a deep breath; these men would need more than her
emotions to discourage them. "Jason Interstellar's Security people
wouldn't quit till they found you, and they'd make sure you were
punished."
One of the two holding her fondled her roughly. "Maybe have some fun
with the fem before we kill both of 'em, Ca--Boss?"
Dana was too angry to be frightened; she twisted to give him a scornful
look, then glared at the leader, who gave her a frightening smile
before he pointed to two of his men. "You, you--knock him out, then
tie him to a tree; he'll be found before he starves."
Dana took comfort in the knowledge that he would be; the Torrance
hunting party should find him the next day, before he even got really
hungry. Then the designated ones did as they were told; Jason slumped
under an expertly-applied baton to the base of his skull, then was
secured to a small tree.
Dana had time to wonder at the use of a baton--criminals didn't
normally use that sort of weapon--before the leader approached her,
holding another one. He looked at her consideringly, then nodded.
"I've seen better, but you're not too bad. I like redheads, they tend
to be spunky." He grabbed her jaw, forced her mouth up for a rough
kiss.
She took advantage of that; as soon as he was within reach, she bit
him.
He swore, backhanding her, then signaled the two holding her to let go.
"Spunk's one thing, lady, but you've just bought yourself more hurt
than you've ever had. Fight if you want to; that'll just make it more
fun."
Dana moved back, licking blood from a split lip as she dropped into an
awkward protective crouch. She really should have paid more attention
to the unarmed-combat lessons Chief Hanson had insisted she at least
watch . . . but it was too late now, facing the leader's feral grin and
twirling baton. Fear was a coppery taste in her mouth, and sweat
trickled down her back under the enviro-suit.
The leader could obviously tell he had an inexperienced opponent,
because his grin became a laugh. Then he moved with smooth, deceptive
swiftness, and before Dana could back away or defend herself, his baton
lashed out, seeming to do no more than tap her forearms--until she
tried to move them.
She gasped with the pain, somehow managing not to cry out, trying to
focus on the use of batons by thieves. The pain did have an advantage,
though; it helped her distract herself from what took place next. She
kept fighting, but it was by pure reflex, and she couldn't keep herself
from being stripped, or ignore the sudden cold air against skin no
longer protected by an enviro-suit, or the other pain and humiliation
as six men took turns using her body. Neither the pain nor the odd
weapons were enough, though. She couldn't concentrate on them
single-mindedly enough to block out everything the attackers were doing
to her, and before they were done, she heard herself whimpering. By the
time they finished the rapes and began a general beating, she could no
longer control her reactions; she fought and screamed and wept, to no
effect, until she felt consciousness starting to depart, and welcomed
it.
Shouts and weapon-fire interrupted her descent into peace, something
she resented even as she knew it meant safety for her thakur and
perhaps for herself. Then someone knelt beside her, and even with pain
blurring her vision, she could tell it was a Sandeman; that dark skin
and blond hair didn't belong to any of their attackers. "Warrior . . ."
she managed to whisper.
"Yes, Garvey DarTorrance. And you?"
"Dana Manfredi, thakur-na to Richard Jason. He's all right?"
"Unconscious, but not hurt."
"Good." Dana sighed, relief letting her outraged body take over; she
passed out.
* * * * *
The time Dana spent unconscious was less peaceful than it should have
been. She dreamed, bits and pieces of her relationship with Richard
Jason, from meeting him shortly after her college graduation, to
swearing fealty, to the mountain hike that had ended so disastrously.
She woke slowly, realizing as she did that she had been reliving a
dream become nightmare, that she was actually in a hospital; the smell
was unmistakable. Her next awareness was that she was blissfully free
of pain, and she spent several minutes enjoying something she had taken
for granted before.
Then she heard the room's door open and stirred herself to look toward
it. The one who came in was a Sandeman, a warriors'-woman from the
gold-gemmed ring she wore; Dana inclined her head in the closest she
could come to a bow.
"Good afternoon, Dana," the w'woman said. "I am Mona, a warriors'-woman
of Clan Lewies and your doctor. How do you feel?"
"Better than I would've thought possible when the warrior Garvey found
me," Dana said. "Thanks for everything you've done for me."
"My pleasure," the w'woman said. "Fortunately you were found before
your attackers did anything life-threatening to you, though some of
your injuries could be classified as moderately serious for a Terran.
I do have you on rapid-heal, since there was no infection. Except for
your broken bones, you should be recovered in two weeks; those will
take three to four."
Dana nodded, the reference to her broken bones bringing the casts on
her arms to her attention, and she wondered again about their
attackers. "How's my thakur? And what about the ones who attacked
us?"
The doctor frowned. "Your thakur is fine, and wants to see you. I
will permit that tomorrow morning; right now you still need to rest.
As for your assailants, they are dead. Clan Torrance is particular
about the safety of its guests, and the warrior Garvey caught them in
the act. Two were kept alive long enough to question, and--" She
broke off. "Garvey is an honorable man and would report what he was
told accurately, but his prisoners might easily have lied to stop the
interrogation."