Warlord by Tasha Temple

her tilt the bowl so that she drained all of the beverage. Then her blue eyes glazed back over, but this time not from hunger.
    Relieved, Rainura thrust the bowl into another woman’s hand. “Wash this,” she commanded, watching Sara carefully. The drug took effect almost immediately. The woman would be easy to control now. Rainura returned to her stool.
    Nazin and Kumys again went to remove Sara’s clothing, this time without a single protest from her. Rainura’s black eyes washed appraisingly over Sara’s body. She looked to be in her early to mid-twenties, full breasts, a good roundedness to her hips, her belly too thin, but that would be remedied once she started to eat again. Although her abdomen was slack, Rainura’s discerning eyes noted a bit of developed muscle in Sara’s calves and thighs. Her eyes narrowed, wondering how that came to be.
    The woman was also of another race, but that would not be a problem for the men.
    Periodically, the camp acquired women who looked differently: skin of white or black, hair of yellow or red, eyes of blue or green. Rainura grinned wickedly. It really didn’t matter to the men – all women had a pussy.
    Arystan had informed her that the camp would hold another festival next week. Such celebrations were held occasionally when the threat of conflict was low to allow the warriors to unwind. The slaves were to be presented at that time to Arystan’s chieftains for the night as a reward for their loyalty. Conditions were harsh on the hot steppes and the end of the campaign against General Bayuan’s army was not yet in sight. Arystan’s forces had been routing small bands of soldiers for more than a year without success in luring the general to engage them. Ah well, what did she care? That was something for the men to worry about. It was Rainura’s job simply to have these pitiful women as presentable as possible in a week’s time.
    “Bathe and clothe her,” she snapped to Nazin. Her eyes followed the dark-skinned woman who immediately led Sara to the large pail of water under the corner of the overhang which collected the runoff when it rained.
    “And feed her.” It wouldn’t do to have this new woman looking like a skeleton when it came time for the festival.

CHAPTER 10 Bonfire
    Although her wits felt dulled, Sara sensed her physical strength returning as she hungrily consumed the wild apple, barberry, pistachios and almonds she was given. Two days before the festival, Rainura also distributed dried ground squirrel to the women. Sara thought she had never tasted anything better in her life.
    On the evening of the festival, Rainura appeared again. She had not given the root concoction to the women yesterday and the drug would be wearing off by now. Rainura always stopped giving the drug before festivals. The women became shy and frightened without it and all of the chieftains preferred them that way.
    Torches were already lit by the shelter and Rainura walked among the cowering women in the flickering light, hissing at them to behave, slapping those who angered her. She wore a long, flowing dress which covered all of her attributes and calf-length deerskin boots. The rest of the women were dressed more scantily. All were barefoot. Leather thongs wrapped tightly around and underneath their busts, forcing their naked breasts upward and outward. They wore short hideskin skirts, open on the sides, and black leather collars with a metal ring on the front of each. Rainura informed the women that the collars were for the enjoyment and discretion of the chieftains.
    She stood before the women, ready to give her usual speech. After a time, the drug seemed to permanently dull the brains of some of the women, and she found even those who had already been through the festival needed to be reminded. Besides, there were quite a few new women this time. The chieftains would be pleased.
    “You will follow me without question to the bonfire. The men are . . . hungry. They are