A Cruel Passing of Innocence (3 page)

Her two companions who'd been victims of the whip-man's earlier wrath were clearly in greater discomfort. The girl who'd been lashed many times across her buttocks and shoulders was wracked by pain. Her face a mask of misery she shivered uncontrollably, finding it difficult to walk, moaning softly to herself all the while. The girl next to Nassara in the line up seemed to have coped far better with her predicament, despite the blotchy purple weal across her belly and the obvious discomfort deep within the valley of her buttocks. She seemed to have resigned herself to her fate, the shock having numbed the acuteness of her senses. Snatching a moment out of earshot of the guards, Nassara managed to speak furtively to the girl, who thanked her for the warning she'd given, and for her previous words of encouragement. Her name was Belithza. Although her manner of speech was not the same as Nassara's, her village had been less than a full day's ride away, and both girls drew comfort from one another, glad of each other's company in their mutual misery.

Like Nassara, her father had brought Belithza here. She had awoken as usual on a normal day, having had no warning or sign of her fate to come. Then, unsuspecting and with joyful excitement in her heart at the prospect of going on a journey, she was delivered. She cried, first with disbelief, then with fear and anger, watching her father ride off, his pouch of gold safely stashed away. He too had never turned again in the saddle, not even when she yelled the name she had called him ever since that first time her child's lips formed the word. Every so often Belithza would break down in bitter tears at the thought of her cruel betrayal. The two girls tried to make sense of it, shaking their heads with incomprehension. Resentment burned deep within each of them at that intolerable image of their fathers taking that miserable pouch of gold.

The fierce leader was mounted again on his white horse. Animal and man stood aloof, watching the proceedings of lesser mortals. In a while some beasts of the desert whose name Nassara did not know – lumbering, ugly animals with sour faces – were led into the centre of the camp by the same youths who'd been the water carriers.

Three of the bad tempered beasts were led towards the girls, and made to get down on their haunches in the sand. The whip-men gestured for the fearful captives to approach, and Nassara realised they were to ride these strange beasts. She was used to animals, having no fear for them, but one or two of the other girls were clearly afraid, but whether of the beasts themselves or of the journey ahead, she was unsure.

Belithza was next to her, and on Nassara's other side was the girl whose skin was almost ebony-black, and from the men's impatient gesturing it was clear that the threesome were to mount the same beast.

Holding its ugly head by a rein was the smirking youth who had obscenely licked Nassara's nipple. Now again he ogled her, clearly amused at having her at close quarters once again. Grinning, he tapped his stick against the sheepskin cover of the hard leather saddle, indicating for Belithza to get up upon it. The girl, wincing, mustering what dignity she could in her nakedness, cautiously mounted. Sitting astride the beast as erect as she could, her hands gripping the high wooden pommel in front of her, her thighs spread wide across its broad back, the animal snorting and stirring beneath her.

Now it was Nassara's turn, and the youth moved to help her, his eyes again devouring her breasts. But Nassara was too quick for him, climbing up briskly behind Belithza. The youth sniggered, turning his attention to the waiting black girl. His face set in a mocking expression he stared at her breasts, watching their quivering movement intently as she climbed up and manoeuvred herself behind Nassara. Now all three girls, with Nassara wedged between the other two, perched awkwardly on the saddle, waiting for the beast to be made to rise.

There was a flurry of commands and activity around them. The other girls had been quickly mounted on the two remaining beasts behind. Nassara heard the plaintive groans of one of the girls, wondering what agony was in store for her on the ride ahead. The youth hissed at the animal and tapped its rear flank with the stick, smirking, as if anticipating the onset of fresh delight.

The back legs and haunches of the beast immediately rose up steeply, and the three unsuspecting girls instantly rolled forward, thrown against each other, compressed together against the high pommel of the saddle. The youth chuckled, happy with his trick. He hissed again, clucking at the beast, tapping its front legs, and it lurched to its feet, snorting, this time rocking its human load backward in the saddle.

The sun was fierce, burning naked flesh. The leader had given orders for single strips of cotton to be handed up to each girl to wind around their faces. Then the men held up a large heavy strip of material – drapes from the dismantled tents, Nassara thought to herself – for each mount. The girls were made to wrap the rough cloth around their shoulders, so that their bodies were enveloped and protected.

Soon after the procession moved off. In a while there was a hushed, plodding rhythm of padding hooves in the sand, broken only by an occasional shout from one of the men. Although the drape around the three mounted girls was coarse, and smelt of untold odours, Nassara was glad of its protection from the sun, as much as by the cloth around her head and face, leaving only her eyes exposed. The strange drape was now a single, common garment to the three girls, covering them. Their sweating bodies moved in a strange swaying rhythm, rubbing against each other at every lurch of the beast, and after a while the heat beneath the drape was almost unbearable.

The beast's curious motion took some time to get used to. With every lurch Nassara felt her groin drag and her hips jerk forward against the spread of Belithza's rump, while at the same time feeling the thighs of the black girl press into her from behind. Their legs, precariously hanging on either side of the saddle, were locked together, one against the other. The welt across Nassara's breasts throbbed constantly as they rubbed against Belithza's back to every motion of the animal's awkward gait.

The leader on his white horse was somewhere out in front; his mounted guards a few respectful paces behind. Then came the three beasts carrying the girls. A youth walked in front of each beast, leading it by a rein, occasionally tapping the animal with a stick to maintain a constant stride.

On Nassara's left flank, slightly behind, walked the shackled young men, spaced out by their chains in single file. She could see that their studded collars chafed and worried their necks from every drag of the chains. There was no protective covering for their raddled figures, their naked flesh exposed to the full glare of the sun's rays. Riding beside the wretched, clinking file was one of the horsemen, carrying a long whip that tapered into a leather tail. Every so often he would flay it at the ground, sometimes flicking the ankles of the young men, making them break into a shambling trot. Nassara hoped the journey would not be far; otherwise they would be dangerously stricken by heat and exhaustion.

Somewhere behind, mounted on desert beasts, rode the other whip-men. Nassara could not see them, but she felt their proximity, their eyes as vigilant as ever. Nassara knew better than to turn around, fearful of their evil presence.

Further behind them came the remainder of the camp followers, pack animals loaded high with the general paraphernalia of the decampment.

As far as the eye could see sand dunes stretched out into the shimmering haze of heat. What dreadful place at the edge of the earth was this procession of misery taking them to? How long would the journey last? Could Nassara endure it?

Closing her eyes against the fierce glare she let her body adapt to the unfamiliar motion. Settling as comfortably as she could between her companions, she felt their moist flesh rubbing and gliding against hers. She smelt their scent, as well as the strange odour of the desert beast.

They rode silently, but occasionally she could hear a moan coming from one of the girls on the beast behind. The endless landscape seemed never to change, although they must have already travelled a great distance, for the sun was nearly down, yet the heat under the drape was undiminished. After a while she dared to whisper in Belithza's ear, but kept a sharp sideways lookout for any whip-men. The girls had learned that talking was not a prerogative of their captivity.

Behind her the black girl, whose name Nassara discovered was Ugimba, eventually mumbled something in her ear, but she could not understand her words. For some time now she had felt the girl becoming restless, her breasts moving agitatedly against her back, yet it was not she, Ugimba, who was suffering pain from the whip, as both Nassara and Belithza were. Nevertheless, it seemed that Ugimba was in discomfort, growing more restless with every lurch of the beast beneath them, and she squirmed agitatedly behind Nassara. Then suddenly she groaned, her breath coming quickly, and she shuddered against Nassara's back.

Not understanding at first, Nassara felt a sudden flow between her own buttocks, flooding down around her thighs and cascading down her legs, and she realised the cause of the girl's discomfort, her bladder unable to sustain the pressure any longer. They had been without a break for many hours, and the poor girl whimpered words of apology in Nassara's ear, choking back tears of shame. But Nassara gently and kindly squeezed Ugimba's arm, which encircled her waist so earnestly. Now Nassara's mind was focused on her own growing discomfort, her own bladder aching for release.

The youth leading the beast by a rein walked just ahead of it, seemingly unaffected by the distance of the journey, his bare feet oblivious to the hot sand, as though accustomed to such exertion and extremity of heat. Sometimes he hummed quietly to himself, or mumbled, or spat into the dust. At other times he would hang back, walking beside the beast, glancing slyly up at the three half-exposed legs of the girls, ever ready for any mischievous torment of his charges. Now he saw the flood of warm liquid running down, and laughing gleefully he pointed at the trickling wetness. Then turning and walking backwards he fumbled for the vent in his ragged clothing, pulling out his puny flesh, thrusting it upward as high as he could, and he began to urinate, laughing inanely as his feet scuttled backwards in the sand, leaving a fresh trail of steaming wetness as they went.

Nassara looked away, forcing herself to close her eyes again, making her mind go blank to shut out the nagging, growing pressure in her belly and the ache that seemed to consume every part of her weary body. She ventured a glance at the shackled men, herded along like cattle, trying to take her thoughts off her pressing discomfort.

Some of them seemed near to the end of their endurance, shuffling along in a daze, scarcely seeing or caring and almost delirious with the heat and thirst. Once one of them stumbled to the ground, making the others stop abruptly, pulled up by the sudden pressure on their collars. The horseman was immediately upon him, lashing out indiscriminately with his whip, making the others move on, dragging the fallen prisoner to his feet by the cruel tautness of the chain.

Eventually Nassara could no longer take the pressure in her bloated abdomen and she let go, gasping her apology to Belithza, who felt the rush of the flood around her buttocks and thighs, and mumbled that Nassara should have no shame for nature's work.

It was nightfall by the time the convoy came upon its destination. Single-storey mud huts nestled untidily around each other. Smoky oil lamps flickered at the open doorways, and a pervasive odour of dung and cooking hung over the place. There was another smell too, that was unfamiliar to Nassara – a kind of salty richness in the air. It was cooler here, too, and nudging at the folds of her headdress was a pleasant breeze that came from her right, and there, opening out beyond a fringe of nearby palm trees, was a black expanse she could not at first identify.

Then with a twinge of shock she realised they had come to the sea, something she'd never seen before. As far as she knew it could have been the edge of the world, and a lifetime away from her village that not so long ago had been the centre of her life.

A number of men emerged noisily to greet the convoy, and Nassara heard muffled laughter and guttural banter. The youths leading the desert beasts clearly knew where to go, leading them towards a large hut that stood alone. In front of it the beasts were made to kneel in the sand, ready to unload their reluctant cargo. Nassara saw that the young men, still in their shackles and near to collapse, were being herded towards another hut.

The whip-men circled the sitting beasts and gesticulated, shouting for the girls to discard their covering and dismount.

Other men approached, holding lanterns. Evil eyes glinted in the dark, sweeping lecherously over the naked arrivals. The men joked with one another, pointing and gesturing, exchanging vulgar comments. But Nassara was beyond caring, glad to put her feet on soft sand again, her body stiff and aching, her legs sore from the rubbing motion. Belithza moaned quietly, stumbling to the ground, and she staggered to where Nassara and Ugimba waited.

‘I could not have endured…' she started to say, her voice tailing off, remembering the whip-men's presence. But they were, it seemed, too tired for cruelty, and they ordered the girls into the large hut, gesticulating with their whips.

It was warm inside; a fire had been lit at one end. An old woman was stirring some steaming food in a large pot, and soon the girls, ravenous and parched, were fed and watered. Heavy blankets were issued to each of them, and almost gratefully they settled down to sleep, fretful in their troubled slumbers, fearing the next rise of the sun.