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FOUNDLING [ part 52 ] A Clash of Valkyie The sounds of well forged steel clashing on well-forged steel rang out throughout the aincient stone Roman amphitheater. Lounging on silken cushions his canopied box seat, he reached out and a golden cup of cool sherbet was placed in his hand. Four fans powered by nude slaves wafted jasmine scented breezes across his oiled body. His minions sitting around the canopied seats of the circular amphitheater clapped, cheered and applauded as the two fighters in the hard packed sands below fought on. Peeled grapes and other delicacies awaited his desires. This was certainly a demonstration of his personal power and incalculable wealth. The two warriors ran at each other and the resulting class of shields rang out. The taller blond, with huge round shield and great cavalry sword towered over the smaller dusky opponent wealding curved saber and horseman's shield. But the swiftness of the lighter opponents attacks had already marked the giantesses sweating body twice, with no returning wounds. Both wore only chainmail bikini at waist and chest. His money was on the lighter fighter. Had not he seen the giantess resting on her sword and shield between clashes? "She is not bad, but her shield arm is starting to drop" The great blond warrior thought to herself. "That metal targ she has in her hand may have a spear tip boss, but it is only good for short sharp fights. The two scratches I allowed have led her to believe my own shield arm is weakening" Then the dusky female pressed her attack, attempting to run in, strike and dodge back before the female with the longer reaching weapon, but heavier one, could bring it to bear. She had seen how slow the shield was now moving and had begun to remove it from her calculations. She then trust at the legs of her opponent ducking low to sweep her blade under the slow moving shield and was shocked when its iron edge swiftly descended on her wrist, knocking her sword from her hand. And in that instant, with her mind focussed on the sharp pain of a broken wrist, failed to see the great sword descending on her head. A groan filled the arena as the favorite went down. They probably lost money betting on the outcome. But then they cheered themselves hoarse for the new champion anyway. Sister A raised her arms in triumph, looking up at Sheik Homnec in his canopied box seat. He would never know she had fought in Roman arena's like this when Marius Roman Legionary forces had captured her as he decimated her fellow Germanic tribesmen. Sold as a slave to a gladiatorial school specializing in female gladiators she had survived for years by killing innumerable women and men set against her until her Dark Master had bought her and made her one of his own. Her relatively inexperienced opponent had never had a chance; and Sister B could have ended it the moment she was in sword range. But the Sheik had wanted a show, in return for his sponsorship and safe passage through the part of Saudi Arabia he controlled. She had agreed and was a little surprised to find herself back in a Roman Amphitheater. It seems the Sheik often staged fights to entertain his desert patrol warriors. It was a good thing her preferred little boys or his demands for a little entertainment just might have gotten him killed. Sister B was here with twenty-four of her little second and third year schoolgirls. Everyone wearing the golden figuree bracelet of intertwining females, indicating their preference for pleasures with their own sex. Except for Malibu Barbie, brought along as guide because she had devoured and her photographic mind had remembered a everything written or maps drawn about this area. And of course to cook, as well as four of the newly aquired Arabic girls. All who had been bore and raised here before being aquired by the Baherain chieftan the school had resued them from She reached down and grabbed the black curly hair of her opponent and dragged her out of the arena into the fighters prep area rooms under the great canopied box seat high above. He probably thought her opponent was dead as the great sword impacted on her head. But Sister B had pulled her blow, and with also turning the sword onto the flat of the blade just before impact. Had stunned her opponent rather than crushed her skull. She was a local girl and just might come in handy. ----- Inspired by watching the Return of the Mummy last night.Two females duke it out twice in that movie. The second movie, in my humble opinion, as excellent as the first. |