Desert nomads

The Sorceress's tower is situated only a couple of hours mounted travel from the city of Al Areth. Or at least it would be if the journey followed the great trade road for most of that distance. The Akkadian thought it wise to avoid the much travelled trade route however and take a longer path through the surrounding desert. Technically Al Areth's law extended many leagues from it's city walls, in practice once out of bowshot from it's ramparts only the rule of the sword prevailed. The assassin doubted that any redblooded man would resist the urge to attempt to capture him as a prize in the ripe womanly form he was trapped inside. The prospect of being ravished and then either kept as a concubine or sold in chains on a **** block was not one he relished.

At least in Hanna, his faithful camel, the only one who seemed to recognise him in his present ensorcelled state, he had the perfect mount for traversing the wilderness around Al Areth. Hanna's large splayed feet coped better than the hooves of horses on both the rocky hard baked desert and the patches of soft drifting sand. Unlike a horse, Hanna would not need fodder or water for such a reletively short journey. The Akkadian proceeded at a slow trot in a wide arc that would take him away from the trade route before swinging back to approach the witch's tower. The assassin soon found the bouncy jiggling of his large breasts to be a distraction as Hanna trotted along.

"Gods! Do these things never remain still?" The Akkadian cursed as the firm mounds danced on his chest.

The state of undress of the whore Minaja also was causing problems for the Akkadian. The sun beat down on so much exposed flesh, making the assassin hot, dusty and uncomfortable. It was indeed fortunate that Minaja was deeply tanned and came from the people of the desert. If Trimon's favourite had been a blonde pale skinned nord or Circassian then the Akkadian reckoned he would have been as red as a lobster and delirious from heat stroke long before reaching his destination.

Around halfway to the tower the Akkadian crested a low rise of a sand dune and spied just what he had hoped to avoid with his diversion. Camped below was a small party of desert nomads. The Akkadian immediately veered away from the tents and attempted to circumnavigate the encampment unseen. A loud cry from a lookout situated on a rocky outcrop nearby dashed those hopes.

"Curses, will luck never fall in my favour?" The Akkadian grumbled as he dug his slippered heels into Hanna's flanks.

Below him the nomads camp came alive as desert warriors emerged from the tents or paused from whatever task they were performing to see what had caused the sentry's alert. On spying the Akkadian several men rushed for their horses, clearly eager to claim the prize of a defenceless woman without an escort so far from safety.

The Akkadian had a head start and Hanna was giving him her best efforts as she excellerated to a lurching run. The assassin knew that despite the advantages of a camel, a horse was much swifter over short distances and the desert steeds of the nomads were renowned for their speed. Casting glances over his shoulder the Akkadian kept himself aware of gap between himself of his pursuers. Though at first the horses gained rapidly on him, the fastest riders were too eager and quickly exhausted their mounts. More experianced warriors among the group had set themselves a more sustainable pace though and gained on him less quickly but at a pace they could maintain.

The Akkadian chose his path with care, steering Hanna towards sandy hills and drifting dunes where her large feet could cope when horses hooves would founder. Soon only a pair of nomads were still in sight, the Akkadian suspecting these to be the most experianced raiders on horses most used to swift desert travel. Despite his efforts the Akkadian could not shake the pair of persistant nomads and gradually they gained ground upon him. Soon he could hear their enthusiastic whooping as they imagined their capture and the delights that would follow.