Both men were tired, the overcast skies had allowed them the luxury to keep moving by day, and they had made the return journey swiftly. It would be good to reach the camp and rest up, even better to break the news of their find to his waiting men. Not long now Bennett puffed, the familiar rocky rise of his desert stronghold coming into view.

The fortified city had been more than he had anticipated, never before had his vicious party laid eyes on such a prize. He fretted with the thought of how he would gain access to such a well-defended place, with his meager armaments, and too few men. On his careful reckoning, there had to be at least one hundred well-armed soldiers waiting within its solid walls.

Sure, his own warriors were brave and fierce, and he knew steadfastly that they would not balk at this new challenge. However, his responsibility as a good leader tore at him, making him realize that he would have to tread a fine line between the reckless wishes of his men, and careful tactical planning. If they were to succeed in this difficult act of plunder. The remainder of his journey was taken up for the most part with this rumination, and the dull ache of his weary body due to the hard march home.

Renard ran doggedly by his side, still, Bennett had detected no evidence of this man's insubordination. Recognizing he had been edgy lately, he acknowledged that he was probably seeing things that were not there. With so many pressures it was all too easy to see things, where sometimes there was nothing but mere shadows. Well, they would be home by dusk, thankfully just ahead of the malevolent storm that was brewing to the southwest. Racing the rising wind that threw the sand at their backs, pushing on ahead for home.

*****

The storm clouds appeared closer now and more threatening, the wind on the rise, driving the sand before it. It no longer felt comfortable for Raissa to stay brooding where she was, so she collected her sorry thoughts, making her way back slowly to the center of the camp. Carlos was nowhere to be seen thankfully.

Raissa felt she still needed a little more time to compose her wildly churning emotions before joining the others to help prepare the evening meal. Deciding at once to collect her thoughts in the privacy and sanctity of Sven's cabin. It was a relief to be out of the stinging wind, which was now howling through the camp with force. The slight woman struggled to pull the heavy door closed behind her, and then all was comfortably still and dark. Much to her surprise and shock the realization she was not alone struck home.

The loaded question came out of the dark. "You have something to tell me Raissa?" Sven's familiar voice. She fought to see him in the gloom with eyes that would not obey. "Don't you?" The dark voice further encouraged. "You've been a bad girl, mmmm......Haven't you?"

Raissa was dumbstruck with fear, and she jumped as her master's calloused fingers alighted on her face ever so gently in a caress. Fear to a certain extent had always been her companion since being captured and brought here, but it had been a long while since she had felt this way, and she found that she no longer had the stomach for such feelings. It was always by far easier to comply.

This lesson she had learned through bitter experience. At once she started to shake, panic seizing her soul, what exactly had Sven seen? Her and Carlos together, the knife, or worse still, all? She had no wish to incriminate herself any further than with what Sven already knew, her best policy was to maintain silence in the hope he would give her some clue how to answer.

To buy the precious time she needed Raissa sank pitifully to her knees before him, tears coursing down her face, the very image of penitence. The actress at once took over to save her. If she could appeal to Sven's vanities this may yet go reasonably easy, she had succeeded with this many times before.

The battle-hardened warrior rose slowly from the solitary chair, her eyes adjusting to the gloom now took all this in, and he was looking mighty pleased with himself. He crossed the floor and walked about her, taking his time, deliberately drawing out the fear-filled moment of uncertainty; finally, the big man kneeling down before her, she dared not meet his cruel, cold eyes.

"I know that you have been screwing Bennett's pretty boy, it's been going on now for quite some time, hasn't it?" He shook her roughly then, his cruel grip hurting her slight shoulders.

"Yes,...." She blurted out, fear pressing her swift admission.

"But that's not all of it is it?" Her heart froze. "No, there's more, lots more isn't there?" As he gently yet menacingly stroked the tears from her pretty face. "I notice many things, slave, do you really think my little girl that I am that stupid?" With this, he thrust her savagely to the ground.

Raissa was not only afraid for herself but for her unborn baby. She flinched as she hit her head on the hard, unforgiving metal floor, and the actress left her then and she felt the bite of fear. She could tell that Sven would give her no quarter this evening, and she would have to obey to live.

Sven's muscular bulk straddled her as she lay prone on the floor, leisurely his rough, scarred hands began to wander over her breasts beneath her clothing, asserting his ownership of her as she shivered.

"I've also noticed other things." His calloused hands wandered still lower to rest on her belly and lingered there. "A bitch in pup if I'm not mistaken, yes? So I suggest that if you want your pup to live you had better tell me all."

On hearing those horrifying words Raissa made her mercenary decision, she now had a child to consider and that was more important; yes, far more important than a lover who had betrayed her. Carlos must pay the price so her unborn child will have a chance to survive in this cruel and terrible world.

Raissa told Sven all, leaving nothing out, even telling of the knife, feeling like she had killed a little piece of herself with each admission. Bitter tears flowed between ragged sobs. Sven questioned her mercilessly for what seemed like hours, finally, he seemed satisfied with the information and got slowly to his feet.

"You are lucky girl that I do not choose to kill you, it is only because there are not many women and you are useful, that I let you live." The powerful warrior stated gruffly without love. "You will never again whore yourself with any other man unless I give you to him. Do you understand!" Controlled aggression evident in his tone.

Raissa nodded abjectly quite unable to speak. Knowing she belonged to Sven, and that he would not hesitate to slay her, it was after all his right.

The rules would forever change from this day, never had she felt so drained and low. "Tonight girl you will attend us by the fire and you will behave as normal, if you do so as much as one thing out of place, your baby will die shortly after its first breath. Is that clear!" Came Sven's brutal and chilling command as he turned to leave.

"Yes," she quavered softly, head lowered in subordination. "I understand." As she abjectly stared at Sven's feet.

*****

Sven was mightily pleased with his afternoon's work, and he felt even more triumphant when he spied his leader's broad back as he hurried out of the wind toward the great cave. So Bennett had returned and Sven smiled evilly. It would be more than likely that they would have much to tell one another, and Sven could hardly wait to reveal all he had discovered. Hoping this time the pretty boy would pay, and his friend would finally see some sense when it came to the subject of the arrogant, troublesome captive.

Carlos meanwhile, had taken shelter from the vicious wind in the lee of a small cave, there he would wait the turbulent weather out. Despite the harrowing wind and driving sand, he had not failed to notice Bennett and Renard's return some moments ago to camp. Acute nervousness arose in him on seeing this, so it would be tonight then, so be it. Everything was as ready as it would be, all he needed now was a little luck. Of course, it could all go wrong, but hopefully, if it did he would die, and in the simplicity of a warrior's thinking, he pushed such thoughts aside.

Over and over he replayed the steps of his well-rehearsed plan so that it would be fluid in his mind. He would go obediently as always when it grew dark to Bennett's cabin, and the big brute would be close behind blinded by his lust after so many days away. The long trek would have tired him too hopefully, just dulling his senses enough.

The omens augured well for his success. Heavy cloud cover would assist him as well, knowing it would be pitch dark. He would casually loose the knife from its hiding place, and drive its sharpness into that bull neck. At least that was the plan. He prayed that it would not be too messy and that he would find his mark. One good hit would be all he would require. Secure in the knowledge he was good with a blade using one in self-defense many times before, not afraid to kill. Soon the moment would arrive, vengeance or death would be his.

The driving wind did not prevail long, however, and the brooding clouds did not deliver either to a parched land thirsting for rain. The evening continued oppressive and dark, and it was time to make his move. So doing his best to mask his nervousness Carlos took his usual position in the cave. At once repulsed at the touch of Bennett's massive hand, which had not hesitated to caress his neck and back, claiming him for all to see. Filling Carlos with hot-faced shame. Yes, tonight you'll get yours he thought darkly, vengeance firing his resolve.

The evening meal was being served, night had drawn in quickly with the turbulent cloud cover. All the warriors circled the large fire and the air had begun to cool. Clearly tonight with the howling wind there would be no frost. The men ate in comparative silence, all knowing their Lord would soon speak of what he had discovered, every man there eager to hear the news of the latest reconnaissance.

Carlos found he had little appetite, his nerves were getting the better of him. Still, he must eat and keep up the pretense of normality, waiting for his moment to strike. Raissa was there evading his every look. She took great pains to keep very busy and avoid him completely he noted. At once regretfully wishing he had not been so harsh with her this afternoon. Still, he argued it could not be helped, and it was all for the best. Though somehow he still wasn't convinced in his own mind, that he really had been fair. It was plain to see that she was very angry and upset, and he could expect no future favors.

How foolish he had been to trust another. As all these things and many more besides crowded into his consciousness, Bennett began to speak of what he had discovered to those assembled. Carlos still made every effort to eat what had been placed before him, cringing inwardly suffering Bennett's occasional, caressing touches.

"The city does exist, and it is every bit as grand as it was described," Bennett announced, leaving off deliberately, letting silence follow for full effect. "It is about five days to the south of here, but it is well fortified, we will not take it by our usual approach. I feel stealth may be our only path to victory."

At this there was a loud murmur of disappointment from the men, they were eager for the kill and had not expected this caution from their leader. Bennett raised his hand for silence immediately quelling the murmurs of discontent from the crowd.

"This is not the usual settlement, it is well fortified, and organized, and its battlements are manned with archers, this much we have learned. To just attack blindly would be suicide, we must think more on this before we move. The rest of the men are still there covertly watching, and we shall learn something of importance soon that will show us how it may be taken. This city has much to offer, even electric light I saw there by night. I am pretty sure that they have fuel too, and many other good things besides. We cannot spoil all this by rushing in blindly, despite how tempted we may feel."

Then he paused menace in his tone and continued.

"And before any of you here think likewise, realize this, if we are seen there is a strong possibility that we will be attacked, and even pursued here by a superior and outnumbering force. None of us want that do we?"

Bennett stressed, looking at each man in turn, studying their intent, to see if what he had said had truly sunk in. Satisfied he continued.

"In a couple of days we will all return and see what our men have further discovered, we shall remain hidden and do nothing but watch until we have something that will grant us victory. I will leave only a few men behind." As he said this he meaningfully looked at Pig, the ugly man at once acknowledging his leader's order.

Thus the night wore on, with many questions asked, and many plans of possible attack debated. Still, Bennett wisely argued his policy of caution, this was finally accepted by the men, though in truth many there felt disappointment and frustration.

Carlos sat through all this only half listening to what transpired, not caring what they did for tomorrow he would not be here to know. So inward were his thoughts that it took him by absolute surprise when Bennett's hand tangled in his hair bringing him swiftly and painfully to his feet. In the space of a heartbeat he knew he was in serious trouble, something was going down here tonight that he was not privy to. Horror rose in him that somehow he had been sprung.

"So.....?" Bennett's free hand stroked him ever so gently on the side of his face. "Just what did you propose to do with this?"

Bennett tossed the little very familiar blade down onto the sand, Carlos' gaze following it, pure panic surging in him as he watched its downward arc.

"Well?"

A palpable silence descended then, not a man moved, all eager to see just how their leader would handle this latest act of insubordination, and Sven most keen of all. Carlos stood immobile, Bennett's fingers still entwined firmly in his hair, though his mind was racing fast like a cornered wild animal, feverishly seeking escape.

"So you think you can fight me, is that it?" Bennett went on, slowly applying more tension to the glossy dark hair, wrenching Carlos' head further back, threatening to unbalance him. "Then let's see how you do then, shall we?"

Bennett at once thrust Carlos backward, withdrawing his fingers from his hair, kicking the knife toward him with sneering disdain, exuding all the confidence of a fighter who knew that he had already won. Slowly removing his leather jacket and weapons belt.

Carlos did not hesitate and grabbed the blade with lightning speed, inciting jeers and laughter from all the men, who had by this stage formed a human wall, thwarting any hope of escape. They crowded around in an unashamed display of eagerness, already wagering on the outcome, rabid for the bloody entertainment that would ensue.

"As you can all see I will not need a weapon."

Bennett boasted full of himself, rubbing in his superiority as he flexed his massive frame, readying himself for what he was sure would be a one-sided fight. A push over he decided, hardly a match at all, he would finish this in but a few moments. Asserting his superiority was what he did best, and his pretty did not stand a chance even with a weapon. Crushing him would be true degradation, indeed he would have him on the floor in moments, so confident was he.

Unseen, Sven just shook his head, dangerous, damn dangerous he thought, why can't he just stop this stupid game. A desperate man is a dangerous man, not to be reckoned with, besides any man there could see that Bennett's little boy was a boy no more. Everyone except Bennett that was.

Carlos readied himself for the inevitable, he had decided that this wasn't what was meant to occur, but if this was how it had to be, he would die an honorable death this night.

Even supposing he did best this giant, he would surely be torn to bits afterward by his men. In all reality, he knew that his only advantage lay in speed and stamina, and these he possessed in abundance. The strategy therefore he reasoned would be to quickly slip under the big brute's overconfident guard. If he could wound and weaken his adversary he just might win the day. However, the downside to all this was that if Bennett got hold of him just once it would be good night.

Bennett rounded on him slowly, already confident of victory, this would be over in a very short time, and the cheeky whelp would learn the truth of just who the master was. A point that he could not wait to drive home fully, especially in such a public setting. Yes, Bennett loved this game, and his sweet was always ready to play.

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So he was not ready then as the small but deadly blade bit into the soft flesh of his vulnerable lower torso as Carlos made his first pass. He was also shocked at the speed and accuracy of the well-timed attack. An unfamiliar start of fear gripped him as it dawned on his realization that he had greatly underestimated his foe. Carlos meanwhile was buoyed by his first success and sought desperately to gain a second hit. Though he realized that his element of surprise was gone, as he saw his opponent tighten his guard.

Raissa watched on in abject horror, along with the other slaves from the outer edges of the ring of baying, bloodthirsty men. She could barely look, even then knowing that she still loved the man who at this moment was so desperately fighting for his life. Brave, so very brave he was, so much braver than she had been. With the thought came the tears, and the harsh knowledge, that she alone had betrayed him to this. What was worse his sin of betrayal or hers? She knew in her heart that she did the greater evil.

The fight dragged on, with the smaller faster man inflicting yet more damage to his hulking opponent. Bennett had had a long day and already he was tiring, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to gain control, and his seeping wound robbing him of strength. He would have to stop this quickly, he was being made a fool of in front of his own men and this thought stung him more than Carlos' venomous blade. Galvanizing his resolve to finish this once and for all.

Carlos too by this stage had his doubts, knowing he had injured Bennett some but not enough. He would have to try harder and get further under his guard, uneasy with the risk, but the only way. So ever he circled, encouraging an opening with his clever feints, waiting for the opportunity to strike home.

Surprisingly he had yet suffered little damage, and the warrior within felt mighty pleased with his efforts. Sensing his adversary was tiring, gave his attack new energy and focus. Carlos had not expected the bout to go this way, but he had to do a lot more damage to his massive opponent if he was to be victorious. Again he lunged, Bennett all too slow gaining only a handful of hair for his efforts. The underdog drawing more blood.

Bennett had begun to grow wise to Carlos' ways, and he fought on two fronts simultaneously, one the battlefield of his mind which he was winning, the other the ring of sand spattered in the crimson of his gore.

Bennett was not the leader here without reason, and it was his special gift for clarity in battle that he now drew on, all this time he had been ruthlessly analyzing his opponent's method of attack. Realizing that Carlos was relying on him to open his guard to strike a good blow home. So then he would let him come. Fool him into complacency, let him underestimate his foe. This was a weakness of the young and untried, if he could just sustain a couple more hits he would win.

The men's attitude had sobered considerably since the beginning of the contest, uneasy with the way the battle was panning out. They also had blindly assumed that Bennett would find an easy victory, and the atmosphere was laden with tension. So on it went, two wills engaged in a battle of more than just physical proportions. Both combatants warily circled each other, skin glistening with sweat despite the cool, the only sounds now were their rasping breath and the crackling of the all-but-forgotten, dying fire.

This was the clarifying moment, now or never Carlos knew, as he glimpsed the opening in his opponent's guard that he had so patiently waited for. With ruthless savagery, he struck upwards toward Bennett's vulnerable throat.

There came a loud gasp of dismay from the crowd, and a woman cried out her voice audible above all, for in that terrible instant the warriors knew that their leader was done. The shiny blade licked upward, eager to drink yet more blood, scoring into the soft skin just above the collarbone.

In all but a split second, Carlos knew instinctively that the weapon would never find its mark. Immediately sensing he had failed, he attempted to evade his attacker's next move, an instinctive reaction to the threat that until now he had not realized he had played right into, but too late, sand stung his eyes and he was momentarily blind.

It was all over then so quickly, his wrist painfully twisted in the iron vice-like grip, until the weapon fell from nerveless fingers, to drop to the sandy floor. Inwardly cursing his stupidity he had made a fatal mistake, knowing now he had gotten overconfident and had played right into Bennett's hands. Just as suddenly he found himself pushed roughly, face down into the dirt, a heavy knee lodged into the small of his back, and he waited ready, quite unafraid to die.

However, the expected death did not arrive, only the ominous sensation of the cold confining steel of a pair of handcuffs encircling his wrists, as he was securely restrained.

Carlos' mind was racing full of panicked thoughts, though in truth he knew he was in no position to escape whatever he had coming, knowing it would be harsh. Bennett's pet or not he had made a good showing against his bigger adversary, in front of all the men. This point would not be overlooked, with Bennett most certainly being forced to save face.

His mind involuntarily strayed back to the many years before when he had first been captured, Bennett had tried fiercely to break his resistance then, and he had endured terrible pain. The twelve-volt battery torture had been by far the worst, and eventually, he had little choice but to succumb to Bennett's perverse pleasures, as he could take no more.

Thankfully the car batteries were now all spent, though it was quite likely his jailer would think of something equally imaginative, something that did not scar at least physically. Also, Carlos found he was fervently hoping that Raissa had somehow not been implicated, he could not stand to see her suffer on his own account.

This had to be the worst-case scenario, one Carlos had never considered, at least until this moment. As he lay there face down in the dirt, the bitterness of defeat and the humiliation burned him like acid, how much more of this could he endure, perhaps he should have turned the knife on himself while he had the chance?

However, he knew he could not, while he yet lived he would have his vengeance, and even though Bennett had finally got the better of him, for the first time came the glimmer of realization, as he recognized that perhaps he could indeed match the massive brute's fighting prowess.

Bennett stood over his vanquished rival, internally he was shaken hardly believing the vicious fight Carlos had exhibited. Yet outwardly he had the presence of a cool and confident warrior, something all his men needed to see, to reinforce his place here in the natural order. None would dare to doubt his leadership. This unsavory incident had been a warning, and one he knew he must heed, and act on.

Wordlessly he signaled to two warriors instructing them to take Carlos outside to his cabin. They stepped forward immediately to do his bidding. All the men had begun to resettle around the fire, and a sense of order again reclaimed the camp. Carlos was lifted bodily off the floor before he could dwell on his defeat further, to be taken from the warrior's sights like some vanquished prize, out into the dark.

Bennett strode out into the cool night air, the wind had all but died, though the clouds above were still thick and oppressive, a teasing possibility remained there would be rain. He breathed deeply of the cool refreshing air, calming his racing mind, and gaining mastery over his now-smarting body, as he shifted into a more comfortable position to ease the ache he felt.

He was still reeling with the shock, astounded at the ability that his captive had displayed, and disturbed by it as well. Things could never be the same from this moment forward, he could no longer allow his pet the liberties he had in the past.

Yes, he thought grimly, he could not afford a situation like tonight's bout to occur ever again. There he stood immobile for quite some time, the light from the fire behind, like some great statue as he regained his composure. Bennett was indeed a fearsome sight to behold, his many superficial wounds still oozing blood, and it ran sluggishly in rivulets down his powerful torso with his every breath.

Sven just as suddenly materialized at Bennett's side with Raissa cowering in his shadow, ready to tend to their leader's bloody wounds. Regally he resumed his place in the plush, hide-covered chair by the now brightly burning fire, letting Raissa's expert hands tend to his numerous injuries. None there noticed the tears that ran unashamedly down her lovely face as she executed her work. In this place, a woman's tears were of no consequence.

Raissa had so wished the evening's outcome to be different, knowing her lover would suffer cruelly from this hour forward. She could not stifle her treacherous thoughts, yes she admitted she still loved him, even if he did not choose to love her in return. She knew that she would care for him always, nothing would change that.

Though what would happen to him now? She dared not guess, if he survived the punishment that would be meted out, surely he would be broken and cowed if they even let him live. She just wanted to weep, for she could not aid him further. Sven watched her like a hawk, besides she had promised obedience on the life of her child, and her child must live. So inside Raissa grieved, fretted, and cried for what could never be again.

*****

The night hours wore on, the oppressive clouds closed in, though as yet granting no longed-for rain. There was the occasional uneasy gust of wind, warm and unsettled, as Carlos lay awaiting his fate in the stifling darkness of Bennett's cabin. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable as the hours passed, finding no position satisfactory due to the confines of the handcuffs. Doubt and fear ate at him also, cursing himself for a fool.

What had he hoped to gain by taking Bennett on in all reality? Still, he felt he had regained some vestige of personal pride with his actions, and he reckoned that he had shown that he was just not some malleable captive to be used and abused at will.

All these thoughts and more were suddenly pushed aside as a new terror gripped him. The sound of heavy, tired footfalls, making their way to the cabin's entrance. It was Bennett for sure who came to exact his retribution, and Carlos steeled his resolve that this time he would no longer cooperate and accept Bennett's disgusting demands on his body ever again. Even if it meant disfigurement or death, from now on he would be a man.

Carlos sat stock still, his back to the solid steel wall as Bennett's hulking form came toward him in the dark. He could hear the creak of leather, the clink of metal, smelling the musky odor of tobacco mingled with sweat, as the massive man slowly disrobed. It was obvious to Carlos that he had hurt his enemy good, by the rasp of his breathing accompanied by slow and awkward movements, so uncharacteristic of this man. Carlos smiled to himself secretly in the dark. Good, you bastard I have finally hurt you. Fueling a new courage and a power he had never felt before, or even knew he possessed, until now.

Bennett had half undressed, down to his boots and leather trousers. Carlos did not move a muscle waiting patiently for what he knew would come. Shuddering violently as he felt the rough hand slide possessively down his belly and ever lower, to finally caress his sex. How he hated this nightly ritual, each time his body betrayed him without fail, just as it was doing now. Bennett said not a word, the only sounds were his labored breathing, part due to pain and part desire. Carlos clenched his teeth, swallowing hard, willing his maleness to behave, wishing he could be anywhere else but in this loathsome brutes' vile prison.

After what seemed an eternity Bennett finally spoke, he rarely addressed Carlos at all, and certainly never around the warriors. Only when they were alone like this would he occasionally speak to him, though more as a master to slave than anything more?

"I am disappointed." He stated sorrow tingeing his tone. "You've had it easy here and I have spared you from the worst."

Spared me for what? Carlos thought hatefully, to keep me for your whore! However he uttered not a word, the heat from the big man's body was like an inferno so near his own. Whilst his every nerve and fiber shuddered with revulsion, screaming at him to run away.

Bennett's touch did not relent, driving him to madness, as he began to shake with the involuntary ecstasy that he knew would shortly follow. Bennett loved this, privy to the fact that Carlos felt nothing for him but perhaps fear and loathing, and he delighted in the power that he had over his prisoner. The events of the evening only served to excite him all the more, and he was so sure of himself pushing aside any possibility but compliance from his unwilling victim.

"I'm afraid that I have permitted you too many liberties, this will have to cease. Tonight has shown me that, however, you will always be mine......."

With this unfinished statement, Bennett bent forward, putting his lips to Carlos' neck with a tenderness so uncharacteristic of his brutal nature. At that very moment, Carlos came...

With this act, shame flooded with sudden anger. No, he would not submit to this willingly ever again, as his teeth sought the warm neck next to his face, biting down hard...

Something in Bennett broke then and in that instant, all restraint and reason evaporated as the big man was overtaken by an uncontrollable rage. With a roar like a wounded beast, Bennett let fly in retaliation with his powerful fists. Carlos at once tasted his own blood, as a blow connected powerfully with the side of his face, stunning him momentarily with its force. Followed by the sound of rending bedclothes, a hand entwined in his hair as the torn fabric was thrust into his mouth and secured there tightly, making him want to wretch, cutting off his air.

His hair was pulled even harder, forcing his head back into an uncomfortable angle, as the brute straddled him and wrenched his jeans down about his ankles.

"You're my bitch and you'll learn." Bennett's voice was thick with rage and sexual intent. "You want to play it rough? Well, I'll give it to you good."

With that, the full force of the loathsome man's weight was atop him, crushing, conquering him in all completeness, caring only for the gratification of his lusts. The tug of the controlling hand in Carlos's raven hair grew in force, with Bennett blind to all in his pursuit of orgasmic pleasure.

The entire episode was over in just minutes, Bennett getting to his feet, to dress. Carlos wanted to die in shame, assuming wrongly that his ordeal was finished until he heard the voice laden with menace close by.

"Still...." Bennett paused for some time catching his breath. "There is the little matter of your actions earlier this evening. Too serious my sweet to let lie." As he removed the gag much to his captive's relief, and continued on. "I am not that stupid that I could not see the desire in your eyes to see me dead. So answer me this, truly, would you have really done it, hey?"

There was silence for a time, Carlos steeling himself to reply to the loaded question, his dry mouth barely finding the words.

"Yes," he whispered. "I only live to see your death... You fucking bastard!"

The last of these words he spat at Bennett full of venom, and defiance. A defiance which toppled the remainder of the brute's self-control, his earlier fury returning tenfold, primal was his rage. More blows followed in quick succession, all Carlos could do was curl defensively into a ball to evade the worst of the assault. With each attack came a flood of new pain, he being helpless to counter the beating. Unfalteringly even in the pitch dark, each savage kick and punch found its mark, and he wondered fleetingly is this how death would come? Yet something in him did not want to just lay down and die, so he fought despite his predicament to stay alive.

Suddenly he felt he was being lifted bodily as easily as if he were a child, and the hope arose then that the beating might cease. Though only long enough for Bennett to rasp.

"If this is the way you want it, I'm happy to play."

Then he was thrown outside landing heavily on his stomach in the sand. The pain was now so intense Carlos feared he would pass out. Again the giant bore down on him with all malevolence, raining down more powerful blows, each hurting more than the first. With the next hard kick, he felt something give and crack, accompanied by yet another burst of agonizing pain. This time in his chest, his breathing coming now with some difficulty, struggling to stay conscious as the world faded before his eyes.

The next thing of which Carlos was cognizant, was he was fighting for air, as he was held submerged in the foul, slimy, water in the goat trough to bring him around. He fought vainly against his stronger foe fearing he would be drowned, until after what seemed an eternity he was finally hauled out and shoved hard onto the sodden earth. Taking one last parting kick which brought forth an involuntary cry of pain. The first he had uttered since the start of the assault.

Bennett's dark bulk towered over him in the night, just visible to his failing vision, clouded with his blood. More of which he could feel running slickly over his bruised skin. Carlos tried not to shy away as Bennett bent over him, but his response came of its own volition. Bennett laughed evilly, ever so softly, sensing his fear.

"Had enough, have you?" Came the question in a voice that held a cruel edge, surprisingly steady despite his wild rage. "You will obey or you will continue to suffer as you have never suffered before, but be sure I will not give you the option of a clean, easy death. No, you will learn to please me and obey without question." Issued the cold order. "Yes, my sweet you will. I own you and you had better learn it!"

With those words, Bennett seemed satisfied and strode away, back to the looming darkness of his hut.

The camp was eerily silent, though all had overheard, with none daring to interfere in their leader's wrath or approach him in his vile rage, for fear of becoming a victim also. The warrior's muted voices were lowered, with the occasional man gazing out warily into the darkness trying to decipher what was happening beyond. Though in reality, they knew.

Even Sven as he sat hunched down by the fire, its orange glow feeling almost too hot to bear, taking much cruel pleasure in Raissa's obvious distress at the sadistic event being played out in the valley below. He could well sense the woman's fear, almost taste it. No, she would not disobey him further, as he caressed her roughly caring not that her passions lay elsewhere.

Raissa simply sat and endured, as she always did. Knowing that obedience to her savage masters was the key to survival in this wretched place. However her emotions were far more difficult to control, tears welled blurring her vision. So helpless was she to interfere or change the outcome of this terrible evening. Only living to face the consequences in the cold hard light of tomorrow. Enduring in the guilty knowledge that it was her weakness that had caused her beloved to suffer if indeed he was still alive. Tears flowed as she allowed Sven his liberties, all the while praying to Father Andrew's God that Carlos was strong enough to take what came.

Carlos lay in a miserable, wet, huddle. With clothes filthy and ragged, and his blood congealing on the sandy earth, the metallic taste of it in his mouth. With each hard-won breath coursed excruciating agony, further aggravated by the need to cough up the putrid water still in his lungs.

For the first time that evening thunder sounded loudly overhead, followed by more unsettled wind. Suddenly large droplets began to fall, a few at first, the clouds stubbornly refusing to yield their life-giving rain to the parched sands below. Carlos barely conscious of the first of the rain as he fought to do something as simple as breathe. Deducing through his clouded mind that he had been well and truly hurt, with no option but to lie there and endure. Until such a time as Bennett's anger relented and someone was sent to his aid. Chained as he was he was quite helpless to contemplate much else. The night hours he passed in this state, lapsing in and out of consciousness, whilst fighting for every breath.

Sometime during this hellish night, he awoke, uncomfortably aware now that the heavy clouds had finally opened, and the rain at last came pelting down. Water ran in rivulets beneath his beaten body. The pain in his chest was intense, and to move brought forth new misery. Somehow the rain felt good, cleansing even, and for quite some time he just lay there accepting whatever came, face raised to the heavens. The angry downpour lasted but briefly, within an hour or so all the rain had gone, the occasional bright star peering out from the broken cloud cover, gazing on the sorry little settlement below.

Then came the discomfort of the cold, biting all-encompassing. By now Carlos was shivering violently, wet through. The best he could do was seek the cover of the empty shipping container next to Bennett's. Finding he was too weak to do anything more than huddle amongst its forty-four-gallon drum supports. Praying that morning would arrive soon and with it some warmth.

The next thing that occurred to his now muddled and wandering mind, was the sweet sensation of warmth, and the musty smell of old furs assailed his nostrils. He could not see too clearly, his left eye refused to open, but a pale, sickly, dawn had begun to bloom in the east. Nestled close, balled into his chest was none other than Selene, and she had covered him with some shabby hides. Her small warm form twitched like a dog in its sleep.

He had never reckoned in all his time here that he would ever have had reason to be grateful to this strange, feral girl. Gratitude is what he felt at this very moment, vowing that he would never think ill of Selene again. With that last thought, he nestled against her slight body, falling asleep once more. Leaving if only for a while, this bleak existence suffused with pain.