II
SG was cold. She wore nothing but a long brown woolen robe and sandals
made of wood and rope. There were patches of snow on the ground, and she could
see her breath when she exhaled.
She sat on a flat stone at the top of a small rise, next to a stone and
thatch hut. In the shallow valley below, a band of adults and children were
struggling through the snow and mud. One of them looked up and saw her. The
figure pointed to her, and soon two dozen faces had been turned toward her. She
could hear their excited talk even from this distance.
They climbed toward her, and one child, barefoot and wearing a frock of
coarse cloth, broke into the lead. She came within a few feet of SG, then
halted, suddenly shy.
"Are you afraid of me?" SG asked. "I will not hurt you."
The child was thin, so terribly thin.
The others had caught up. They stood behind the child, gazing at SG in
wonder. Their faces were gaunt. It appeared that all the adults were women.
"Who are you?" asked one of them.
"I've come to lead you out of this land of famine," SG said. The words
came unbidden - and unexpected.
SG rose. She was much taller than any of them, and they seemed awestruck
by her size.
"Where are your men?" SG asked.
"Taken to fight for the Duke," answered a red-faced woman who was
missing most of her teeth.
"Or dead," said another.
SG knelt beside the little girl who stood nearest her. The child bowed
her head timidly.
The gesture was like a stab wound to SG's heart. If she could save
anyone, she would save this little girl. She felt a strange sensation in her
breasts. It was as though they were growing.
"Can you make it over the mountains?" SG asked.
"Not without food," said the red-faced woman. "We haven't eaten in two
days."
SG pulled the long robe over her head, revealing her beautiful naked
body.
"I will feed you," she said. She knelt again and offered her breast to
the little girl. The child without hesitation began sucking, and SG felt the
milk surging from it.
"I have another," she called out. "Send me another child."
A mother pushed a little boy forward. "Go and suck," the mother
whispered loudly.
As hunger overcame his shyness, the little boy came forward and started
on SG's other tit. SG was filled with compassion, and with milk.
She fed all the children first. There were 14 of them.
Then she fed the mothers and grandmothers - 11 in all. The women cried
as they nursed. They said prayers of thanksgiving. God was delivering them from
death by starvation. They would survive and start in a new land, beyond the
mountains. This miracle-working saint would lead them.
Saint SG was experiencing feelings entirely new to her. Never before had
she lactated. It was a wonderfully sensual experience. And she was happy to be
helping these poor people. If only she could help more. They needed so much.
When everyone in the group had been fed, SG took a wooden staff that had
been leaning against the hut and began marching toward the mountains. The group,
now fortified, followed.
# # #
They walked until sundown. By some means she didn't understand, SG knew
the route they must take - a route that would take them across a mountain pass
that had been used for years by marauding armies but had rarely been attempted
by peasant folk.
But lactation had weakened her, and her pace was slower than she had
wished. Not that any in the group could have managed a faster one.
Near the end of the day, SG had to carry an old woman on her back.
They reached a patch of level ground just as the sun disappeared behind
the peaks to the southwest. SG gently laid the old woman on the ground, then
patted her cheek and asked how she was doing.
There was no response. The woman was dead, probably had been dead for
over an hour. The woman's daughter and two grandchildren wept and prayed beside
her.
The ground was hard and cold. Burial underground was impossible. SG told
the group to make a fire while she scouted for a cave in which to place the
corpse. If all else failed, they could cover it with loose rock.
"Be careful, madame," said the red-faced woman. "There are wild beasts
in these mountains, and things worse than beasts - thieves and killers."
"Have no fear," said SG. "I will return quickly."
Using her staff for support, SG made her way up the steep mountainside.
The light was fading, and she despaired of finding a burial place. But at last
she spotted a rocky overhang that appeared to be the entrance of a cave. I will
return here tomorrow morning, she thought, and the grey-haired one will have a
proper funeral.
The sound of falling water in the distance called her on. She climbed
another few hundred feet and found herself looking down on a long slope to a
wide valley below. In the moonlight, she could see a river running through the
valley. It was good land, a land where her charges could make a new start.
On her way back to her group, she heard the howling of wolves. She hoped
her group had stuck together and built a fire. Numbers and flames would keep the
beasts at bay. She didn't worry about her own safety.
She should have. As she came around a large boulder, she found herself
face to face with four gleaming grey-green eyes. The wolves had heard her coming
and were crouched to spring.
She swung her staff into fighting position. But at that instant
something hit her back and knocked her face-forward to the ground. It was a
third wolf, and when he attacked, the other two quickly joined in.
SG found herself fighting for her life. Strong jaws locked on her left
arm and her right leg. Another pair lunged for her throat. She smashed the
wolf's head with her staff, then kicked away the one that had bitten her leg.
But the wolf that had her left arm refused to relax its grip, even when
she smacked it on the top of the head with her staff. The other two wolves
regrouped and attacked again. Their bites were painful, and in her weakened
condition she feared they would eventually prevail.
She stumbled forward, carrying the weight of two wolves that had
attached themselves to her arms. The third wolf leapt at her, and she was
powerless to protect herself.
But the beast did not sink its fangs into her throat, as she had
expected. Instead, it gave a yelp, crashed into her and fell to the ground. The
other two wolves released her and wheeled to face some danger she couldn't see.
First one, then the other cried out and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
Before she lost consciousness, SG found an explanation for their strange
behavior. The feathered shaft of an arrow extended out from the neck of the wolf
that had fallen nearest her.
# # #
SG awoke to find herself lying on a flat stone ledge protected by a
rocky roof. It was the cave entrance she had seen the night before.
Inside the cave, not far from her, two men were stamping out a fire.
Outside, four more men were calling for those inside to join them.
"And bring the bitch," said the tallest of their number, who had a bow
and a quiver of arrows on his shoulder. It was clear in an instant that he was
their leader.
The two men inside grabbed SG and pulled her roughly to her feet.
"Come on," growled one of them, "we're going to reunite you with your
comrades."
They had tied a rope around her neck, and they jerked it to indicate she
had better move and move fast.
She followed as best she could, trying to make a mental inventory of her
body. The bite wounds hurt, but she didn't believe they were serious. She still
had her robe on, which surprised her. In the past, her presence in the midst of
six rough-looking men would have meant that she would be stripped in seconds.
Even her emerald pendant still bounced between her milk-filled breasts. Only her
sandals were gone, evidently a casualty of last night's battle or stolen by one
of these men. The ground was painfully cold.
Where were they taking her? she wondered. Then she remembered that one
of the men had spoken of reuniting her with her group.
So they knew about the women and children. What a pity.
The leader of the band of thieves fell back to join her.
"Why were you traveling alone last night?" he asked.
"To find a place to bury one of our group. She was old, and she died on
the road yesterday."
The thief laughed. "Burial is impossible in these mountains. Bodies left
in caves are quickly devoured, either by wolves or by cave bears. Or, if they're
fresh enough, by men like us."
"That's a cruel jest," said SG.
"It is no jest. Peter, is it not true that our merry band have feasted
on human flesh?"
"Indeed we have, many times, Master Cock," said Peter, the plumpest of
the thieves. "And all in all, I prefer it to the stringy livestock in these
parts. I especially enjoy babies. They are quite delicious."
So their leader's name, or at least nickname, was Cock. She wondered if
he deserved it.
"Cannibals! You should be ashamed," she said in disgust.
"Actually, like most men we are many things," said Cock. "We are thieves
by profession, rapists when our other wants are satisfied, and cannibals by
necessity. Four of us were also once soldiers in the duke's army, a poorly paid
profession and one with little honor in this life or the next."
She walked on in silence, while the men traded jokes and insults. At
last they came to a ridge and saw below the women and children SG had hoped they
would not find. They were huddled together around the smoldering remains of a
fire. Wood was scarce in the mountains, and they had been unable to refresh it.
"Ah, little children," said Peter. "Tonight we eat well."
They weren't joking, SG realized. Weakened though she was, it was up to
her to protect those she had taken under her wing.
"Leave them alone, please, Master Cock," she said. "They are a scrawny
bunch, not worth butchering. And they have nothing of value to steal."
The women and children heard her and looked up. They wanted to rush
forward, but were afraid of the bandits, who were armed with clubs and knives.
"Why should we let them go?" Cock asked. "Skinny or not, they have some
meat on their bones. And several of them have shoes."
He turned to his comrades. "Okay, men, we'll rape the women who are
worth raping - starting with you, Madame - then we'll kill the lot of them."
"Please, Master Cock, consider this offer," SG said with new urgency.
"If you let them go, I will satisfy the sexual passions of each and every one of
you many times over. Then I will feed you with milk from these generous
breasts." SG ripped away her robe and revealed herself to their hungry eyes.
"Milk be damned," cried Cock. "We are no sucklings. Those mammaries will
be roasted over an open fire, and I shall have the first bite."
He lunged at her, and she kneed him in the groin.
"Continue your journey," SG yelled to the women and children, "as I must
continue mine."
The struggle lasted longer than the thieves had expected. SG put up a
valiant fight. They clubbed her, yet she battled on. They piled on top of her,
yet she managed to squirm free.
During the fracas, the red-faced woman led her companions onward, across
the mountain pass. They could do nothing to help their beautiful savior. All
they could do is follow her instructions and save themselves.
At last the thieves gained the upper hand. Two of them held SG, while
the other four took turns punching and kicking her.
"She promised sex," said Peter sadly. "Now she's too beat up to show us
her talents."
"True," said Cock. "But we will have her posthumously, and there is
pleasure in that, too."
He gestured, and the men holding her let her drop to her knees, dazed
and semiconscious.
Cock stepped behind her, grabbed her hair and plunged his dagger deep
into her back. She gasped, her eyes rolled back, and she fell into fathomless
blackness.
[To be continued.]
