Mortimer and Myrtle A Love Story
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SG was cold. She wore only 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 about 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 picked up 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 put the child down. Then she pulled the long robe over her head, revealing her beautiful naked body.
"I will feed you," she said. She knelt 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 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 manage 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 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 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 joke. 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 pulled her robe over her head 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.
# # #
SG lay on a cool stone floor, naked except for her emerald pendant. She could hear voices echoing among the tall stone columns. Somewhere there was a woman's laughter. Then more women joined in.
She sat up. Her injuries had been healed. She felt strong and healthy. And even without a mirror, she knew she was more beautiful than ever.
A slender servant girl dressed in a gauzy gown suddenly appeared, carrying food on a brass tray. She gasped in surprise when she saw SG.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"A friend of all who live here," SG answered.
The servant girl considered this for a moment, then said, "Come with me. We will go to Her Ladyship. She will know what to do with you."
SG followed. They went into a long, high-ceilinged hall. Oil lamps on tall iron tripods lit their way and illuminated paintings and bas-reliefs on the walls. The art was clearly Egyptian. Middle Kingdom. Eighteenth Dynasty.
SG wondered how she knew this, then she remembered her encounter with Dr. Altezeiten. He would be so happy to be here, she thought.
They came to a doorway guarded by two tall black men with spears.
The men eyed SG suspiciously, but the servant girl didn't hesitate. She held the tray in one hand and knocked at the bronze door with her other.
The door was opened by another servant. They entered a wide room that opened out onto a stone terrace. Cushions were spread about the room, and lovely young women lay on them. In the middle of the room was a chair carved from blue-green stone. Sitting in it was a tall, imperious woman. Like the others, she was brown-skinned and had straight black hair. But her features were sharper and more severe.
The servant girl who had escorted SG bowed before the woman and said, "Your Ladyship, I found this woman near the temple entrance. She says she is a friend of all who live here."
Her Ladyship laughed harshly. It sounded like a bark.
"A friend of all who live here, eh? Well, that is quite an accomplishment since so many of us who live here are enemies of each other. Have you a name, my dear?"
SG thought this over. Her original name seemed most suitable in this situation. "I am called Kara-El," she said.
Her Ladyship frowned. "I don't recall the name. Are you from across the Great Sea?"
"Which sea is that, my lady?" asked SG.
"Well, this is an interesting situation," said Her Ladyship to the other women. "She is not only naked but ignorant. Nothing to clutter either body or mind."
The women giggled and tittered, and Her Ladyship smiled at her own cleverness.
"Take her away," she told the servant girl. "I do not know her. She is not one of us. Take her to Anubis. Perhaps he will know what to do with her."
SG sighed. Things were not going well.
"My lady," she said, "I really..." But at this point Her Ladyship clapped her hands twice, and the guards who had stood outside came in, brandishing their spears.
The servant girl led SG to the doorway, and the guards took turns poking SG's behind with their spear points, much to the amusement of the ladies.
Back in the great hallway, one of the guards grabbed SG roughly by the hair and dragged her toward what appeared to be an altar at the far end of the hall. The servant girl chastised the guard and apologized to SG, but she was powerless to intervene. Tearfully, she turned back.
When they reached the altar, the guards put down their spears, grabbed SG by her wrists and ankles and stretched her out on the flat stone. They used no rope or chains, yet SG discovered she could not move her arms or legs. She was pinioned by invisible bonds.
One of the guards reached out to fondle her breasts, but the other whispered a warning. They retreated back through the hall, walking backward and alert to some danger SG couldn't imagine.
She lay on the altar for several hours. She began to wonder if she hadn't made a terrible mistake when she chose not to return to the body bag and Kal-El. At least it was a world she had come to understand. What was she doing here, thousands of years in the past?
A shaft of sunlight, which earlier had illuminated an incense burner in the far corner of the room, had worked its way toward her. Finally, she found herself staring up directly into the sun. The light poured through a rectangular opening in the ceiling. Her pale body and blonde hair glowed.
"You are quite beautiful," said a man's voice. It sounded near, but when SG raised her head she saw no one.
"Who's there?" she called out.
"I am Anubis," said the voice, now much closer. Then, what had been an invisible presence took visible form. A huge man stood next to the altar, a man with a very realistic looking dog mask.
"Can you free me?" she asked.
He slipped his hands under her back and her legs and lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather. She was surprised to find that she wasn't afraid. In fact, his strength was reassuring.
He walked toward the stone wall, then through it. She felt as though a great wind was rushing upward, and they passed through alternating patches of darkness and light. Were they falling? She couldn't tell. She went limp in his arms. She was his possession, and that was comforting.
At last, the periods of darkness and light lengthened, and the sensation of falling ceased. They were in a large underground room lit by oil lamps attached to the ebony walls.
Anubis placed her upright on a low stone cylinder. Her face now was on the same level as his, and she could see that the mask was not a mask at all. He really did have the head of a dog. Or a jackal.
He sniffed her throat, then slid his nose down to her breasts, then her crotch. It tickled, but she stifled a giggle.
"You will do," he said at last.
"I will do what?" she asked.
"You will do as my concubine. You will do what I tell you to do. You will do what Fate demands." His voice was firm but calm.
"Yes, sire. And what is it you want me to do first?"
He pulled off the linen skirt that covered him from waist to knees, revealing an enormous penis.
"You will give me sexual pleasure," he said, "and in return I will give you an honored place in my kingdom. You shall bear my pups and reign above all my other concubines."
It sounded like an enormous responsibility, she thought, but she was confident, looking at his already rising prick, that whatever sexual pleasure she could bring him would be more than reciprocated.
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