the saturday slave
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Smuggler's GoldChapter 9 free porn video
"You still looking for a new place?" Gyorgy asked in a low voice just above a whisper.
"Yes," Antal answered without looking at his friend. His eyes were tracking along the approaching riverbank. "Have a few that are interesting; the right price but just a little too close to the city to be really comfortable. The problem is the farther out you go the higher the prices, but I think I'm just going to have to cut the purse strings and do it."
"Yeah, I suppose I'd do the same in your situation," Gyorgy agreed. "Don't feel the need myself. I figure I can get myself out anytime if I really need to; but then I'm not dragging a whole harem along behind me, am I?" Antal nodded once and grunted.
"You heard the Herceg himself arrived in the city last week, didn't you?" he continued. "Might be a good time to lay low for a while."
"Already thought of that," Antal muttered back. "This might be our last run for a bit, at least until we can see what our little leader is up to. I've already seen far more army and navy types in town than makes me happy. Can't see that they've actually done anything yet but they aren't here just for show; you can bet on that."
"They've made the prices at the whorehouses go up if that counts," Gyorgy chuckled.
"They've made the prices on everything go up," Antal snorted in disgust. "From what I've heard they're not bringing in any of their own rations but are commandeering what they need and paying with scrip, not even hard coin! The stuff isn't even worth wiping your ass with. Not only is it going to be too dangerous to do this much longer, there won't be anybody left with the coin to pay for it.
"Do you see the signal fire? I can't see anything," he said changing the subject.
"Not yet," Gyorgy replied peering into the darkness. "Maybe if we get a bit closer..."
"Something doesn't feel right," Antal muttered.
"You sure this is the right place?" his friend asked. "I never could figure out which place we'd meet or why."
"That was the whole point," Antal grumped. "Just the old man and I knew; we figured the fewer people who knew the better."
"Maybe he's just late," Gyorgy shrugged.
"Maybe," Antal grudgingly admitted. "But we're not going any closer until—"
"There," Gyorgy hissed. "I see it: the signal fire!" He pointed to the small flicker of light on the shore.
"So it is. Very well, signal the others and let's move in slowly," Antal ordered. "It still doesn't feel right and it couldn't hurt to be cautious."
"You're getting to be such an old woman," Gyorgy chuckled.
"Yeah well, this old woman can still kick your ass so we do it my way," Antal growled.
"Well, since you put it that way..."
It was dark as the inside of a sack with the little bit of moon there was covered by a layer of clouds as they slowly approached the shore. It was almost impossible to distinguish any real shapes, just dark blobs broken up by even darker areas. The only sounds were those of insects, the gentle lap of the river against the sides of the boats and the grinding of gravel as they crunched against the bank.
"Start unloading but do it quietly," Antal told Gyorgy. "I'll go see if I can find the old man. I want to get this done as quickly as possible." Antal could barely make out the return nod. Jumping out of the bow and onto the bank boat pole still in his hand, Antal started moving slowly towards the signal fire.
He'd made it about half way when he heard the clanking of metal on metal and froze in place. Suddenly he heard the shouted order, "Halt! In the name of the empire, stand where you are!" Immediately afterwards the light from about twenty lanterns blazed all around him as their shrouds were pulled off.
"Gyorgy, shove off! It's a trap!" he screamed as he turned around to run towards the river. Even if he couldn't make it to the boats in time to catch them he could at least jump into the river and swim out to meet them.
"Halt! Halt I say!" someone yelled from behind and he heard the thump of heavy boots coming his way far too close to allow for an escape.
"I'll halt all right," he grunted and twisted around with his pole in front of him. The first soldier to reach him looked surprised as the heavy staff slammed into the side of his helmet dropping him stunned to his knees. The second one was driven back into his fellows by the end jamming into his breastplate. After that there was little else to do but swing like a madman until someone had enough sense to circle around behind him and Antal's head exploded in a shower of stars.
+ + +
Antal woke through a red haze of pain that seemed to run the entire length of his body. He was lying on what felt like a rough board and he groaned which caused the pain in his head to suddenly supersede any other damage his body might be trying to tell him about. He was only able to reach up to his chin before his hands were stopped and the sound of clanking metal confirming that wherever else he was, his status wasn't that of guest. Groaning again he tried to roll upright which also confirmed that his legs were shackled together along with his arms.
"Might as well stay down and rest, youngster," came a familiar voice out of the darkness. Groggily he tried to open his eyes but even after he did he couldn't tell the difference. Either he was blind or where he had been stuck was as dark as the inside of a sack.
"Old man, is that you?" he grunted.
"It is," the voice answered. "I can see they got you but it doesn't look like you came easily."
Antal grunted and finally pushed his way upright. "Not easily," he croaked, "but it sure looks like they got me." He paused for a moment and continued, "They get you last night also? I sure didn't expect them to be out that far away from the city."
"They wouldn't except I told them where to find you," came the answer.
"You? You turned on us? I'm going to strangle you, you bastard!" Antal hissed.
"Somehow I find myself quite unfrightened," the old man chuckled.
"You won't be once I get out of these things," Antal warned shaking his restraints.
"I doubt that will be before they hang me at dawn," came the snorted reply. "But if it makes you feel any better maybe you can ask for them to hang me first so you can watch."
"What's the matter? Didn't get quite the reward you expected from turning us in?" Antal quipped.
"Oh, but I did," the old man said. "They caught us as we were leaving the city. Nobody allowed in or out after dark any more, don't you know. Anyway they said if I assisted them in catching some real smugglers then they'd let my boy and his wife live. I'm sorry for your situation but honestly between choosing you or them... ? Well, it wasn't really a choice."
"Couldn't save you own hide, huh?"
"But they did give me that choice," the old man responded almost cheerily. "They said that one of us must die; either my son or me. Again it wasn't really a choice."
"Yeah, I suppose not," Antal grunted. "They really are bastards aren't they?"
"Yes he is," the old man agreed. "It was the Herceg himself that interrogated me. Green as spring grass and a dandy to look at but don't let that fool you; he's as cold and vicious as they come. If he wants to talk to you — and I'm betting he will — you'll see for yourself. Take my advice and just answer his questions; the end of a rope ain't the worst way to die."
"Maybe," Antal grunted. "Do you know if any of my men were also taken?"
"It's not like they inform me of their current guests," the old man chuckled. "But they were fairly put out when they dumped you in here. If I had to guess, then I'd say no."
"Good," Antal grunted again. "Then if I don't say anything; or at least say anything for awhile then they will probably be long gone. I suppose I could hold out for a bit and give them a good head start."
"He won't be asking about just your men," the old man replied. "He'll be asking about all the smugglers around here and if you don't come up with the answers he's looking for it could get a wee bit unpleasant."
"So you're saying it might irk him a bit if I keep my mouth shut," Antal chuckled. "That just might be worth it. Besides once my crew gets home and lights out, the others will know soon enough. The smarts ones will lay low and the dumb ones ... Well I suppose they'll get what they deserve."
"I admire your courage, youngster" the old man said. "But I'm not sure you'll think it courage or stupidity once they put the hot metal to you."
"I guess we'll see," Antal mused. As they sat in silence Antal thought about Ilona and the rest of his women hoping Gyorgy had the forethought to get them out of harm's way before he left.
+ + +
It was impossible to tell the passing of time in the cell. To Antal it seemed like it had already been days, at lest his stomach thought it had been, but it was impossible to know since there were no windows in the cell and the only light came from the torches in the hallway flickering under the crack at the bottom of the door. Finally they heard a key in the lock and Antal blinked as four burly soldiers entered and hoisted him up by his shackled arms.
"No hanging for you today, old man," one barked as they half-carried, half-dragged Antal out the door. "Maybe tomorrow if you're lucky."
"Powers, this fucker is heavy," one grunted as they continued down the dimly lighted passageway. "Can't we just make him walk?"
"Herceg wants him now," another replied. "It'd take us forever to get up there with his ankles bound the way they are and there's no fucking way I'm taking them off. This one's dangerous and he's staying trussed up like a high feast goose as long as I got my say in the matter." The complainer just grumbled and continued hauling Antal with the rest of them.
They went up two or three flights of dungeon stairs, past guard posts and into the main halls of what Antal assumed was the main city administration building. Up more stairs and down hallways until they came to a large solid door guarded by two more soldiers.
"Bringing up the smuggler to see the Herceg," his escort grunted. One of the guards checked his shackles and after confirming they were on and tight nodded and the doors were pushed open. Again he was dragged into a well lighted room and dumped at the feet of a man — a boy really — sitting in a comfortable chair. Antal looked up at the pleasant face of his Herceg who looked down at him with a faint smile. The shadow of a smile was on the lips but the eyes were as cold and heartless as any Antal had ever seen. He could easily imagine this boy/man ordering the death of thousands if he deemed it necessary.
"And you are Antal the Smuggler?" the Herceg half-asked. Antal remained silent and stared up.
"Answer His Graces' question, filth!" one of the guards yelled and clubbed Antal's face with his fist.
"Enough, Corporal," the Herceg said mildly raising one hand off the arm of his chair. "We doubt that our guest is overly impressed by your enthusiastic entreaty to join the conversation."
"Give him to the Inquisitors and he'll be talking soon enough, Your Grace," came an oily voice from Antal's side. He turned to look but before he did he noticed a slight frown disturb the seemingly permanent smile on the Herceg's lips. The owner of the new voice was a richly dressed older man whose hair and pointed beard were as well-greased as the words coming out of his mouth.
"A few moments with them and he will be babbling like a mountain brook," the man continued. "This is all just a waste of time, Your Grace. Hand him over and let them crack him open and then we can hang him quickly and be done with this farce."
"You are undoubtedly correct, Minister Malaceck," the Herceg nodded slightly. "But would those babblings be of much value to us or would they be the ranting lies we so often get? As we have so often observed, those put to the question mostly say whatever they think will stop the pain, and rarely is it the truth. Torture only works when you can distinguish the fact from the false. We believe there are better ways; more expeditious methods of determining what we want.
"We are also curious as to your insistence that these hangings be done so quickly," the Herceg continued softly. "Is there some reason we don't know about that we shouldn't take our time and be thorough with our investigations?"
"Of course not, Your Grace," the minister replied casually. "But justice delayed does not present the correct example to your subjects. A smuggler rotting in the dungeon doesn't have quite the same impact as one swinging at the end of a rope in the city square.
"And need I remind you, Your Grace, you have not yet reached your majority and your actions must still be approved by your council of advisors. As the head of that body and their only representative here, it is my burden to assist you in these matters."
"We hardly need reminding, Minister, since you see fit to bring it to my attention on a daily basis," the Herceg responded dryly. "As we remind you each time that since reaching my sixteenth year the Emperor's wish is for that advice and consent to be limited to policy issues only. We do not consider this to be a policy issue."
Gert
- 14.04.2020
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