Worlds Collide chapter 4
"Burn it all.”
“What about the women?” Toraq, his second in command, asked.
“I told you. Burn everything.”
Warg sat on his six legged Horaq, watching his men slaughter and burn what was left of the small village. Screams and cries of those trying to escape echoed all around the valley. Females holding tight to their young ran from one corner of the village to the next. They had no chance. He had trained his men well and they obeyed his orders without hesitation. They blocked all the ways outside of this miserable town and hacked to death every single soul or left them to bleed to death.
In less than an hour all was quit. A few mud huts started to crumble from the intensity of the heat. Smoke rose up in the air forming a black cloud above the devastated village. Blood was everywhere. Heads rolled to the ground and mutilated bodies were scattered all over the place. Even the Wook vultures stayed away until it was over. This was a deliberate tactic. Other neighboring villagers will know what they had done here and word will spread. He remained on his Horaq on top of a small hill overlooking the village to make sure no one escaped alive.
He doesn't remember what the name of this village was. It was one of many they have burnt on this killing spree in the past few months. They rode in yesterday afternoon with little resistance from the thirty or so men who lived here. Before sunset all the males and the old folks were dead. The remaining females and what was left of the younglings were gathered and locked up in one of the huts to be used by his soldiers for the night. A female usually cooperates if she thought she could save her child. They were wrong. By noon the next day he and his men rode out to the next village after massacring everyone in their wake. They had been doing this for more than five full Moons and his men were starting to get tired. The next one will be the last before they head back. More than twenty five men rode out of Mowdar's castle. They formed the contingent of his squad. Twenty are still left alive. The odds were acceptable considering they had killed more than five hundred men, women and children since then.
“We could have taken a few female slaves,” Toraq addressed his commander. He wasn't questioning the orders of his sergeant. He was just a soldier out the remaining twenty in Warg's squad, however he had fucked a couple of females last night and he wanted to take a few with him as slaves. As one of the men in this platoon he was assigned as second in command but he knew this could change if he pressed his luck too much.
Sergeant Warg wasn't interested in slaves. The last slave he owned died a few years ago and since then he hasn't taken another. He didn't want any. His concern was only to execute the orders of his Warlord, King Mowdar, and that was to kill as many northern villagers as he could. However Warg had given a little leeway to his men to plunder and rape as they pleased, but when they finished they had to leave waste everything behind them.
“And how are we supposed to hold on to these slaves when we come up against resistance at the next village?” That wasn't a question. It was a fact.
Warg tried to teach young Toraq about the ways of the Merc. As a Merc soldier you can get rich as long as you obey the orders of your superiors or warlord. However it is also important to look after yourself so that you live to see another day. When men think with their dicks instead of their heads they tend to loose them both.
Non the less Warg wanted to reassure Toraq as well as his other Mercs that they will be getting something out of this after they finish this mission. “Don’t worry Toraq. There will be plenty of opportunity to take slaves at the next village."
Female slaves were very valuable commodities. They can be used for anything; a worker, a farmer, a laborer, a housekeeper even a companion or a child barer,....anything. Toraq was right. It was a waste to kill them when you can sell them or better still use them if you can. They could have taken a few slaves since they started this mission but there was always a right time to do that and this wasn't one.
By late afternoon on the sixth day, they reached the largest village along the Qallaq river. Qallaq wasn't much of a river. It was a small dried up run that collected seasonal water from the nearby mountain range and dried up to a trickle in the hot season. There were very few rivers in this world and most were down south were the land was lush and water was a plenty. And so was war. Water was the reason for every conflict in this land and today was no exception. King Mowdar was expanding his territory up north and he sent his soldiers to terrorize the people so no one dared oppose him. This was why Warg and his men were here and doing their masters bidding. It was the way of his people. You live to kill and kill to live until you die. If you are lucky you get to fuck a beautiful woman in between. And today was another day to kill.
More than fifty men formed a defensive line outside the crumbling wooden walls of the Qallaq village. Warg was expecting that. His squad was spotted two days ago and these men were trying to defend their homes. They didn't have a chance. His men were well trained and they had better weapons than the forks and knives those farmers carried. Better still all his Merc's were riding Horaqs. Those large ferocious beasts had tough hides and devastating speeds. They could plow through these men like weeds. And they did. In one swift sweep almost all the villagers were hacked to death. He admired their courage but mocked their stupidity. They should have ran.
Hours later his men gathered what was left of the villagers and had them kneeling in the middle of the village square. Warg got down off his Horaq and walked to one of the villagers. Dressed a little better then his friends, he seemed to be a leader of some kind or maybe the chief of this town.
“My name is Warg, son of Sawara. And you are a lucky man,” Warg addressed the bloodied and dirty farmer, “you will live to tell your king what we did here today and if he is smart, he will kneel to our Warlord, King Mowdar the destroyer.”
As Warg was turning around to walk back to his Horaq, the chief of the village defiantly stood up and said, "we will never submit to the likes of you or Mowdar." That was a big mistake.
"Then you will die," Warg replied before he swiftly turned and slashed the chieftains throat with one stroke of his back hand. The man didn't expect his death to be so quick. He put his hand on his throat to stop the blood from squirting. It was too late. His fell face down to the ground to die in front of his friends. Warg pointed to another villager and said, "YOU... Go to your king and tell him what you saw and heard today." The man scrambled to flee before he ended up like his chieftain. He ran away without looking back as he heard the cries of his family and friends being butchered to death.
"Round up the women and younglings. We will be taking them as slaves this time," Warg told Toraq, "we head home first light."
Warg sat with his back to a tree observing his men enjoying their time with the females. There was a full moon that night and it was lightening up the whole village with its bright red and blue rays. He looked at what remained of the younglings who huddled together, hungry and afraid of what was going to happen to them. He couldn't help but remember that he himself came from a similar village a long time ago. He was taken as a slave and trained to be a soldier at a very young age. He has seen more than forty full seasons since then. "He did good," he thought to himself, considering that very few soldiers lived to be his age in this world. Some of those younglings might not survive for long but those who do will be strong for it.
Warg smiled as he saw Toraq surrounded by two young females. One was playing with his cock while the other was kissing him on the mouth. He chose right. Those two females seemed to have surrendered to the fact that their lives are about to change. They have been slaves, as are all females, but now they are about to be sold to someone else and they preferred to be owned by a soldier then work as farmers which was a very difficult life for a slave. He could see they were trying to give young Toraq a good time, hoping he would chose one or maybe both of them for himself. The one sucking his cock seemed to have had a good experience in this sort of thing. She was sucking and licking his dick as if her life depended on it. And it was. She was trying to put all his long hard shaft in her mouth and gagging on it but she didn't give up. She was intent on sucking him dry as she used her lips as well as her hands to make him come. As for the other female, she was showing young Toraq her firm breasts, urging him to put her dark red nipples in his mouth. Toraq had one hand on the female's head who was sucking his cock, while his other hand was fingering the second. He wasn't a bad fucker. Not bad at all. But he was bad as a second in command. He probably won't make it on his next mission.
In his young age Warg used to be as good a fucker as Toraq but that was a long time ago. Now he doesn't really care much for this sort of thing. His last night in a woman's bed was with his old slave who died a few seasons ago and he still has to find someone who could take her place. Not likely. He liked that woman and he missed her company.
On the other side of Toraq, another one of his Mercs was fucking a female on her back with her hands tied above her head. Only that one wasn't enjoying herself. She had tears in her eyes and a dirty cloth shoved in her mouth. He heard her subdued whines as the soldier was fucking her hard, slamming his waist ferociously between her thighs. From the looks of her large sagging flopping breasts she seemed to be a child bearer. The Merc probably didn't ask if her child was still alive or not. No one really cared and neither did he.
At the far corner of the village a soldier had an older female strapped to a tree as he pummeled her asshole with his big cock. That female surely won't survive this ordeal. She was old and ugly but still in good enough shape to be used for the night. Most probably her last. All around the village half of his men were fucking female slaves while the rest were either waiting their turn or posted as sentries to watch guard until they were relieved of their duties to join the others.
Tomorrow they will start their six day journey back to Mowdar's castle. Half the spoils of this mission will be handed over to their Warlord while the rest will be divided between his men. As their Sargent he will be getting twice as much as any man. This was the way of the Merc and Warg was one of the best in this line of work. But he was getting too old and wondering how long will he survive before a sword or some other weapon finally ends his life. Probably not for long. All he wants to do now is sleep. There is no need to think much about the future. Tomorrow will bring its own fate with it.
“I don't understand this!” the young female Bore exclaimed as she addressed her elder, “how could this Warg be the same man as Dolan or Jonathan?”
“He is not," her teacher replied, "they might all look the same but they are different men with different experiences and personalities."
“This is very confusing," she said. "I've never seen anything like this."
The older Bore tried to explain further, “this is what makes this very interesting. It is an exceptional phenomenon where four identical humanoids are present in four different multiverse. I look forward to see how this will unfold."
"I don't like this Warg."
He smiled at the reaction of his young apprentice. She has always been a passionate one. It is going to be as interesting to watch her reactions as it is to see how those four worlds are going to change. "I hope the next humanoid is more to your liking," he finally said, shifting his senses to the next multiverse to observe the last Nexus before all the four worlds start to collide."
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