"The Escapist Escapades" by KiwiKink

[tirepanted3]

This story is from 2016, but I don't think it's been posted on the board before. It seems to be set in the same universe as KiwiKink's "Greatish Escape" story (one of my favorite USB tales ever).

Governess Nalen Abayo Kara let out a haughty laugh as the carriage trundled along, pleased with herself. A proud woman with dark chocolate skin and full lips, Nalen was the warden of infamous Z'thula Prison, currently travelling from the capital city of T'soi back to her impregnable prison transporting a very important prisoner. And Nalen looked the part, dressed in a fine crimson uniform that accentuated her curvy figure, with gold piping around the throat, cuffs and lapels and sporting a large fur collar. Her jet black hair was mostly cropped short, save for her large, curly fringe that gave her a rather distinguished look. Nalen took absolute delight in bending prisoners to her considerable will, dishing out whatever harsh punishments she deemed appropriate. She could be cruel, domineering, and sometimes even just, but one thing she never was was forgiving. Let the Priestesses preach redemption, she was here to punish the guilty. And if you ended up in her jail, you were most certainly guilty.

And the prisoner who shared the carriage with Nalen on this journey was most certainly guilty.

“Enjoying your journey?” Nalen smirked.

The prisoner said nothing in return. She was a fit and muscular woman, dressed in a simple pale grey sleeveless tunic with a laced up neckline and black woollen pants. She was shackled for the journey to the prison, with the thick iron manacles that encircled her wrists being padlocked to her belt, and a chain ran down from them to link to the manacles around her ankles. A wide studded leather muzzle was strapped tightly around her mouth, preventing her from retorting back at her captor, with whom she bore an uncanny physical resemblance to, save that her head was smoothly shaven.

“Don't glare, cousin,” Nalen chuckled evilly. “You deserve worse for your betrayal.”

Sauda Ashanti Kara grumbled a reply from behind her muzzle, glaring at her familial captor. Sauda was the black sheep of the Kara family line, a rebel and a troublemaker who delighted in rousing up opposition to the oppressive regime that ruled over the great continent of M'kanea. She had been a thorn in the royal family's side for years now, but had finally been caught when she had tried to abduct the royal princess Lesedi. Now she was being handed over to her cousin for punishment, and Sauda knew Nalen would make her like miserable from now on.

“Do not fear,” Nalen cooed, “I have special cell prepared just for you, one where you will learn respect and submission. I don't want to spoil anything, but I have been awaiting this moment a long time, dear cousin, and I intend to enjoy watching you squirm and beg! But what is a little torture without the anticipation? We will be spending the night in T'santi, where you will be free to contemplate what fate awaits you. How does that sound, dear cousin?”

Sauda just glared at her, causing Nalen to let out another haughty laugh.

The carriage continued along the forest road, pulled by four sturdy draft horses. The carriage was steered by a pair of Nalen's most trusted guardswomen, Imani and Masika, both dressed in crisp red uniforms similar to Nalen's, but with silver piping instead of gold and lacking the fur collar. They were armed with ceremonial spears and curved sabres, and both were trained well in their use. But despite their skill, they were also complacent, convinced nobody would be foolish enough to attack them as they carried out their royal duty.

And that was why they did not feel alarmed when they discovered a fallen tree blocking the road.

“Perfect,” grumbled Imani, standing up. She was tall and lean when compared to the more stoutly built Masika, and tended to take charge despite the pair sharing the same rank. “Let the Governess know there will be a short delay. I am sure she will be most pleased.”

“Aye,” Masika said, not looking enthused at her task. Imani could no blame her, Nalen's temper was legendary, and the reason she chose to move the fallen tree. Both women dismounted from the carriage, with Imani heading to the log while Masika knocked on the carriage door.

“What is it?” Nalen demanded.

“Apologies, Governess,” Masika said, saluting the powerful and arrogant warden. “There will be a short delay. A tree has fallen across the road, and it will take a moment to move it.”

“The Fates seem to wish to delay your arrival to my dungeons, cousin,” Nalen mused to the shackled and muzzled Sauda, a gloating smile on her full lips. “Masika, go help Imani move it. I want to reach T'santi before nightfall.”

“As you command, Governess,” Masika said, saluting, heading off to help her fellow guardswoman.

“You get the other end,” huffed Imani, straining as she lifted her end of the log off the ground. Masika nodded and headed towards it, but before she could reach it, a whirling sound filled the air. The guardswoman stopped, perplexed, only to then find her arms pinned to her sides as a bola flew from the treeline and wrapped itself around her body. Imani dropped the log and went to draw her sabre, but a second bola whizzed from the trees, entwining her with its thin but strong cord.

Two women emerged from the trees, both dressed in high-collared leather vests and dark pants and carrying thin cudgels. The first had a head of thick dreadlocks that she had bound up in a top-not, while the second had a mane of tightly packed curls. They grinned at the bola-bound guardswomen with malicious glee, mayhem burning in their eyes.

“Governess, bandits!” Imani shouted in warning before the dreadlocked woman reached her, only to be conked on the head with the cudgel for her trouble. She dropped to the dirt, unconscious, and Masika soon joined her, neither.

In the carriage, Nalen let out a loud curse. “Friends of yours?” she sneared at Sauda, who just chuckled beneath her tight gag. The Governess ignored her, reaching beneath her set to take out the military sabre kept there. She unsheathed the blade and threw open the carriage door, ready to show these bandits what for, but the pair had retrieved her guardswomen's ceremonial spears, giving them a reach advantage.

“Surrender, Governess Kara,” the dreadlocked woman said, poking the tip of her spear towards Nalen. “It would be a shame for us to have to stick you like a bush pig!”

Nalen glared at them, her full lips twisting into a scowl. But, without her guardswomen at her side, she knew these bandits had the advantage, so with no other choice she angrily threw down her sabre. “You will pay for this, many times over!”

“But not today!” the women laughed, then grabbed her. A quick bop to the back of Nalen's head sent her into darkness, allowing the bandits to set about their work.

* * *

“How do I look?” Sauda Ashanti Kara said, posing. After being freed of her shackles and muzzle, she had stripped her captive cousin and put on her red uniform, and now relished playing dress up.

“Very spiffy, boss,” the dreadlocked woman said, her name being Raziya. She and her partner Jojo were part of Sauda's rebel band, delighting in causing trouble for the royal family, and they had been planning to rescue their friend and leader ever since she had been first captured. Like Sauda, she and Jojo were also now in disguise, having relieved Imani and Masika of their uniforms. The two guardswomen where now both elaborately bound to a tree in their underwear, their hands bound and ankles lashed together before more rope had been wrapped around their bodies. Thick rags had been shoved into their mouths and bound in place with cloth strips, ensuring they would not be able to comment on the arrangement.

Their Governess, however, was not so silent.

“You will all suffer for this!” Nalen Abayo Kara snarled, jerking against the thick manacles that now chained her. Her eyes were filled with righteous rage as she stood there, humiliatingly dressed in Sauda's prison tunic, and Sauda would have been a liar to say she did not enjoy seeing her cousin this way. “I will hunt you down! There will be no corner of M'kanea you will be able to hide from my wrath! I will haunt your every waking moment, I will-”

“Hush, dear cousin!” Sauda said, slapping her hand over Nalen's mouth. “You have no power over me, so none of your empty threats hold weight. But you will help me get a head start on my getaway. After all, it would suspicious if we did not drop off a prisoner for the night in T'santi. I am sure you will enjoy the hospitality of their jail!”

Nalen fumed, mumbling obscenities beneath the strong hand covering her lips.

“Now, for something I have wanted to do to your for years,” Sauda cooed. “Raziya, give me the muzzle. Time to gag this cawing crow!”

The dreadlocked woman obeyed with a smile, handing the leather gag to her boss. Sauda removed her hand and, before her captive could utter a word, slapped the muzzle over Nalen's mouth and quickly strapped it tightly in place. Nalen's checks bugled as she tried to rant behind the muzzle, but the gag was most effective.

“Much better,” Sauda said, chortling evilly as she nodded to Jojo. The bandit woman pulled a snug-fitting leather hood down over Nalen's head, lacing it tightly in place. The hood would hide Nalen's identity from the jailers in T'santi, in the small chance they had actually ever met the Governess before. “Load her in the back and prepare to ride out,” Sauda said, searching to the final piece to complete her own disguise. With her shaved head, no one would believe she was the Governess, whose distinct hairstyle was well known. Luckily, Nalen often travelled with a red tri-cornered hat, which Sauda happily affixed upon her head.

“Looks perfect, boss,” Raziya said as Jojo forced Nalen into the carriage.

“Excellent,” Sauda said. “Now, let's drop off my dear cousin. I think I am going to enjoy being a Governess!”

* * *

The carriage pulled into T'santi just as the sun vanished over the horizon, coating the town in darkness. T'santi was primarily a trading hub, serving as a crossroads between major cities where merchants, nobles and farmers could mingle and flog their wears. It was also a good place to rest for the night when on a long journey, which is why Nalen Abayo Kara had chosen it as a stop off for her journey to back to Z'thula Prison. Unfortunately she never expected to ride into town chained up, securely muzzled and hooded.

Sauda Ashanti Kara enjoyed seeing her cousin like this. She had wanted to put the haughty Governess in her place for quite some time, ashamed that they shared the same blood. Nalen represented everything Sauda despised about the rulers of M'kanea; arrogance, authority, cruelty. And while Sauda had no delusions that she could singlehandedly bring down the current government, she could certainly take a little vengeance whenever opportunity presented itself.

“We're here,” Raziya calleed from the driver's bench.

“Superb,” Sauda grinned, rubbing her hands together greedily. “Remember, let me do the talking. My dear cousin doesn't like it when her underlings try speak on her behalf.”

“We know, boss. Don't worry, we won't mess this up.”

Sauda smirked, getting into character. She stepped out of the carriage, adjusting her tri-cornered hat as she breathed in the cool night air. The T'santi jail was small, as the trading town's population rarely caused trouble, and the two guards standing outside of it probably represented the full strength of the local constabulary. The two women were dressed in tan uniforms of a similar style to the ones worn by Raziya and Jojo, and they quickly snapped to attention upon seeing who had just arrived – or at least, who they assumed had just arrived.

“Is this the sort of greeting you would normally reserve for your betters?” Sauda asked, putting on a snooty voice. “You were sent a missive to prepare for my arrival, and yet I find you lazing about while I transport a prisoner most dangerous to your door!”

“How sincerest apologies, Lady Governess!” the first of the constables said, saluting crisply. “We promise everything is ready for your arrival. The mayor was hoping to greet you, but she has been delayed. Should I go inform her?”

“Not yet,” Sauda said, holding her nose up. “First we must secure the prisoner. She has been awfully rambunctious during our journey, and I will only be happy once she is securely locked up behind bars.”

“Of course!” the woman said, saluting again. Raziya and Jojo climbed down from the carriage, then dragged the hooded Nalen out. The Governess twisted and jerked against her chains as the two disguised bandits manhandled her, her roars of rage muted by the leather muzzle that gagged her.

“Feisty, isn't she?” Sauda mused. “She must remain fully restrained while she is in your custody. This awful brigand is an expert escape artist, and has a tendency to bite, so take no chances. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Lady Governess!” the two constables said in unison. With Raziya and Jojo's aid, they forced Nalen into jailhouse, where the hooded woman was then forced into a cold, stone cell that was walled with thick iron bars. Sauda had to stop herself from laughing at Nalen's situation; it would not do to break character when things were going to well. The cell door was slammed shut and bolted shut, finally secured by a large padlock. Nalen would be going nowhere any time soon, even if she somehow managed to slip free of the chains that bound her.

“Excellent work,” Sauda said. “Now, it has been a long journey and I am in need of refreshment. Secure our carriage and please point us to the nearest tavern, if you please!”

“Certainly, Lady Governess,” the constable said, grovelling. “And the mayor?”

“I will see her once I have quenched my thirst,” Sauda said dismissively. She had no intention of meeting the mayor, who was probably the woman in town most likely to know what Governess Kara really looked like. Sauda did not know if they had ever meet, but it was not a chance she was willing to take. “Now, those directions!”

The constable complied, then set about securing the carriage for the night.

“Come, girls,” Sauda said with a wide grin. “I think a celebration is in order!”

“That wise, boss?” Jojo asked. “Perhaps we should get out of town, while our disguises are still intact.”

“Phooey!” Sauda said, brushing her off. “I am the Governess of Z'thula Prison, and I wish to enjoy the position. So let us drink and be merry, and may my cousin's jail time be as miserable as she is!”

“Can't argue with that,” Raziya said, nodding. And so, with that, the three woman headed off.

* * *

The tavern was rather full as Sauda, Raziya and Jojo swaggered their way inside, as a motley collection of merchants, farmers and other menial workers drank the night. The general hubbub of the room fell into a hush as they laid eyes on the uniformed women, all knowing, if only by reputation, what those particular colours meant. Sauda grinned, enjoying the effect their presence held over the patrons, then sauntered up to the bar.

“Your stoutest beer, good woman!” Sauda demanded of the barmaid. “And be quick about it! The Governess is very thirsty!”

“Yes, your honourship,” the young woman said, fumbling the words and she raced to fulfil Sauda's order. Once she placed down the frothy beverage before Sauda, the barmaid quickly served Raziya and Jojo, her face a mask of nervousness. Sauda smirked, enjoying the power she held over the poor woman, and wondered if this was what Nalen felt like all the time. If so, she could see the appeal.

The trio began drinking, and soon Raziya and Jojo had moved off in search of company of the more intimate kind. Sauda hoped they found wenches that would satisfy them, as they deserved some fun after springing her from custody, and the disguised rebel mused about the possibility of finding a pretty girl to spend the night with herself. But that would be for later, as now she was enjoying her first cold beer since she had been captured, and was savouring the taste.

“Excuse me, milady,” a voice sounded from behind Sauda. “But would you be the Nalen Abayo Kara, Governess of that most infamous of prisons?”

Sauda turned, and saw standing at the bar a lean, handsome woman dressed in a faded tunic and a black vest. Her dark hair was tied back in a series of tightly woven braids, and her dark skin showed signs of spending time out in the sun. A worker then, probably from one of the nearby farms. She refused to meet Sauda's eyes, no doubt intimidated by being in the supposed Governess's presence.

“I am Governess Kara,” she lied, smiling. “I am glad to see my fame has even reached the peasants.”

“Indeed, it has,” the woman said, nodding. Sauda noticed that four more women had gathered around her, all dressed similarly to the speaker. If she had not been drinking, Sauda might have been alarmed, but the beer happily clouded her judgement. “My name is Nyala Kani, and my sister bares the name Onyeka Kani. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Should it?” Sauda scoffed, downing a mouthful of beer.

“Well, you sent her to your dungeons for not paying her taxes,” Nyala seethed, suddenly pulling a large carving knife on Sauda. “Ruined her life, you did! I've been waiting for my revenge for years, and now the Fates deliver you into my lap!”

“Now, let us not do anything hasty-” Sauda began, but one of the other women behind her reached around and wadded a dirty rag into Sauda's mouth. She let out a muffled yelp as the rag was bound in place with a folded length of cloth, and her arms were seized by the others.

“Nyala, don't do anything foolish!” the barmaid warned.

“I will have justice for my sister!” Nyala snarled as her companions lashed Sauda's hands behind her back with thick cord. “Grab her guards, they can share her fate!”

The group looked about the bar, but found that Raziya and Jojo, having seen the trouble their boss was in, had both serendipitously exited the tavern while they had been tying and gagging Sauda.

“Looks like you are on your own,” Nyala laughed. “Take her, it's time to have my revenge!”

Sauda grunted and groaned behind her thick gag as she was hefted up and carried out of the tavern, wondering what fate awaited her.

* * *

Mayor Zula Chiamaka Baako raced as fast as her stubby legs could carry her. She had received word that Governess Kara had finally arrived in T'santi, and Zula was aghast that she had not been their to greet her esteemed guest. A fussy and nervous woman, Mayor Zula was short and plump of build, with large heart-shaped lips and frizzy black hair she kept bound up in a severe bun. She was dressed in an silvery grey dress jacket with gold piping, tan trousers and knee-high leather boots, as was befitting of a woman of her rank, but knowing that the Governess often met with the royal family she felt woefully under dressed.

As she arrived at the jail, her round cheeks puffing as she tried to catch her breath, she found her two constables, Ebele and Neema, standing outside arguing with two women who seemed to be in their underwear. The two undressed women were both irate, babbling on at the constables in angry tones.

“What is going on here?” Mayor Zula demanded, doing her best not to sound puffed.

“Mayor!” Ebele said, saluting. “These two vagabonds claim to be guardswomen from Z'thula Prison. They say they were ambushed by bandits and their Governess abducted. It is a ridiculous claim, ma'am. Governess Kara arrived earlier with her real guards, and dropped off their prisoner.”

“That Governess is an imposter!” shouted the taller of the two women. “She is the rebel who tried to kidnap Princess Lesedi!”

“Quiet,” Zula said, “or I will have you both shackled and gagged.”

The woman pressed her lips together, but Zula could see she was still fuming.

“Where is the Governess?” Zula asked.

“At the tavern,” Neema said. “She and her guardswomen wanted to refresh themselves after their journey. She left their prisoner in our care, and I must say she is a violent one. She has been thrashing about in her shackles all night!”

“I see,” Zula sighed. “Ebele, go fetch the Governess so we can sort this out. Neema, take me to this prisoner. But first, so these two do not cause any trouble, bind them.”

“What?” the tall woman snapped, indignant.

“If you are who you say you are, you will be freed, but until then you will do as you are told,” Mayor Zula ordered. Reluctantly, the two women allowed their hands be lashed together before them with leather cord, and for good measure Neema bound wide leather strips around their mouths. The two women looked at each other, their eyes burning as their gags kept their anger muted.

As Ebele ran off to summon the Governess, Mayor Zula and Neema led the two bound and gagged women inside, to where the hooded prisoner struggled within the confines of her cell. As described earlier, she was pulling angrily at the chains that shackled her, and loud grunts and muffled curses could be heard from beneath the leather hood that encased her head.

“Remove the hood,” Mayor Zula said. Neema saluted, then unlocked the cell and walked inside. The prisoner stopped struggling as the constable entered, her body tense as if ready to strike. Neema carefully moved behind her, cautious of any escape attempt, then slowly unlaced the hood. As the leather sheath was pulled from the woman's head, Mayor Zula found herself looking directly into the rage filled eyes of a tightly muzzled Nalen Abayo Kara.

“The Fates have cursed me...” Zula whimpered. “Free her! Quickly! Free the Governess at once!”

Neema gulped, then quickly set about releasing Nalen, unstrapping the muzzle from her lips and unclocking the manacles that bound her. The Governess was furious, ranting incoherently for several minutes, cursing Zula, Neema, her two guardswomen and most importantly of all her dear cousin. Zula remained silent as Nalen unleashed her tirade, hoping that the Governess would save her true wrath for Sauda Ashanti Kara. After all, it was her criminal cousin that was behind Nalen's misfortune, not the poor plump mayor.

But then Ebele bust into the jail house, gasping for breathe. “Mayor, mayor!” she stammered. “The Governess has been kidnapped!”

“That is not the Governess,” Zula said. “She is an imposter...”

“Wait!” Nalen said, a cruel grin on her full lips. “Kidnapped, you say?”

“Yes,” Ebele said, puffing loudly. “Some farmers have taken her prisoner, wanting revenge for her imprisoning a relative of theirs … wait, who are … oh dear...”

“Mayor,” Nalen said, looking down at the plump noblewoman. “Fetch some clothes, free my guardswomen and bring us some weapons.”

“Of course, Lady Governess,” Zula said, grovelling at haughty woman.

“It seems that my cousin is in need of a rescue,” Nalen chortled evilly. “I say were should go fetch her!”

* * *

Sauda Ashanti Kara groaned. She was still bound, still gagged, but her surly gang of justice-seekers had hoisted her up into the air and suspended her from a tree branch over a swamping bog. She could not believe her bad luck, about to be punished for the misdeeds of her dear cousin, by people she suspected would be on her side if they had known her real identity. Sauda tried not to struggle, as she was already slowly spinning beneath the branch, and she needed to keep her wits about her if she was going to find a way out of this dire situation.

“Look at her!” bellowed Nyala Kani, now armed with a pitchfolk. “The great and powerful Governess Kara! So noble! So arrogant! So silent!”

The quartet of women who served as Nyala's conspirators laughed heartily, enjoying the sight of the bound woman suspended before them. Each of them jeered and taunted Sauda, using every vulgar term they could think up.

“My poor sister was drowning in debt when this woman imprisoned her!” Nyala said, walking over to where the rope holding up Sauda was tied off. “Now, Governess Kara, I wonder how you feel about drowning yourself, in the anguish you caused my family!”

Sauda grumbled behind her gag, shaking her head furiously. She had to somehow delay them, had to convince them to remove the rag from her mouth so she could explain that it was not she they wanted revenge on, but her cousin that was currently being held in the town jail. She pleaded behind her gag, trying her best to get their attention.

“What, have something to say?” Nyala mocked.

“Yeah, her famous last words!” chortled one of Nyala's companions, provoking another rumble of laughter from the group.

“Fine,” sneered Nyala, moved up to where Sauda hung suspended. She pulled down the cloth that cover Sauda's lips, allowing her prison to spit out the rag it held inside.

“This is all a big mistake,” Sauda said, giggling nervously. “I am not Nalen Kara, I am her cousin, Sauda Ashanti Kara. You know, the infamous rebel!”

“Truly?” Nyala said, cocking her head.

“Yes!” Sauda said. “I escaped from my cousin's custody and took her place as a disguise. She's currently sitting in a cells back in town, with your useless constabulary none the wiser. We both hate her, and want vengance on her for the wrongs she has committed against us. Cut me free, and I will bring the real Governess to you!”

“That is a tempting offer,” Nyala said, pondering Sauda's offer. She then stuffed the gag back into Sauda's mouth, pulling it tight. “But I'm afraid I am only as stupid as I look, not as I act. Her cousin! You really expected me to fall for such a desperate lie? You must think me a total fool!”

“Well, I know I do!” called a voice from behind the group. All spun to see a woman standing upon the rise, dressed in a high-collared overcoat and holding a sabre in her right hand. She looked a lot like Sauda, save for a fringe of curls where Sauda's head was shaved.

“Wait, you're...?” Nyala said, her lip trembling.

“Governess Nalen Abayo Kara,” the woman said with a cruel smile, her arrogant brown eyes sparkling with malice. “And it seems I have some new inmates for Z'thula Prison. Imani, Masika, attack!”

Before the women could react, two women dressed in ill-fitting constable uniforms rushed over the rise, both of them carrying spears in their hands. Nalen followed them with a leisurely gait, heading directly for Nyala. The farmer's companions rushed to meet the guardswomen, brandishing hoes and pitchforks, but they were no match for the two seasoned warriors. With deft strikes with their spears, Imani and Masika quickly disarmed them, then used the blunt ends of their weapons to knock the women out. It was a pathetic battle, hardly befitting women of the guardswomen's statue.

Nyala was horrified how easily her friends were taken down, but she was not going to denied her chance at revenge. Screaming at the top of her voice, she charged directly at the smirking Nalen, thrusting her pitchfork out before her. But as she reached the Governess, Nalen effortless sidestepped the attack and slashed down with her sabre, cleaving the pitchfork in two. She then pirouetted on her heel and brought the curved blade of the sword around, bringing it to rest against the startled Nyala's throat.

“Yield,” Nalen yawned, bored of the encounter. “Or perhaps you'd prefer me to end your sorry existence.”

Nyala considered this, feeling impotent in her rage. Dropping the remains of her pitchfork, Nyala dropped to her knees, weeping in defeat.

“Wise choice,” Nalen said, and then clubbed Nyala across the skull with the pommel of her sabre. As the farmer dropped to the ground, unconscious, Nalen approached her suspended cousin. “Well, well, well. Don't you look like a hogtied pig.”

Nalen reached up and pulled the gag from Sauda's lips. “Cousin,” Sauda said sheepishly. “So good of you to rescue me. I guess family is important to you.”

“Rescue?” Nalen snorted. “Nonsense! I just wanted my uniform back. I could not care less what these imbeciles did to you. But since you are here, I do believe I have a cell waiting for you back in Z'thula Prison. And because of this … detour … I think I will need to dream up some extra special punishments for you!”

Nalen then forced the gag back into Sauda's mouth. “Bind and gag our new prisoners,” she ordered Imani and Masika. “And then cut this one down. I have had enough of this miserable town!”

* * *

Sauda, Nyala and the four other women all had their hands tied behind their backs, and their mouths gagged by knotted cloths, and then leashed together around their throats to make leading them to the jail all the more easier. Sauda had been stripped to her undergarments so Nalen could claim back her uniform, and the surly rebel could barely hide the anger and humiliation she felt from her extreme bad luck.

Nalen gave a self-satisfied grin, happy with her victory. She planned to punish Imani and Masika once they reached Z'thula Prison for their failure to protect her during the journey, but not too harshly, as they were still loyal and mostly competent women. No, she would save her true malice for her cousin, who she was going to enjoy tormenting. Nalen smiled widely; it was good to be the Governess.

They reached the jail house, and Nalen swung open the front door to announce her return. “Mayor Zula,” she declared. “Your governess has returned victorious, as we all knew I would!”

Zula did no answer back, mostly because she could not. The plump mayor was sitting in a sturdy chair, strong cord wrapped around her body to bind her in place. A thick gag filled her mouth, keeping her silent. Zula mewed apologetically, as did the constables Ebele and Neema, who were also tied, gagged and embarrassingly locked in their own cell.

“What is the meaning of this!” Nalen demanded, but her question was answered in a way she did not like. Springing from their hiding places, Raziya and Jojo set upon Imani and Masika, clubbing them over the head with a pair of cudgels. Nalen fumed, incensed at their attack, but before she could draw her sabre, the two women sprang on top of her wrestling her to the ground. “Unhand me!” Nalen roared, only for a rag to be tightly wadded into her mouth.

“Do shut up!” Raziya said, looming over the Governess. She then turned to Sauda and winked. “Sorry for the delay, boss!”

Sauda grinned behind her gag.

* * *

“I cannot wait to be free of this accursed town,” Sauda Ashanti Kara said as she finished dressing. She had found a stylish high-collared tunic and a leather coat to dress in, no longer wanting to disguise herself as an infamous Governess. Her clever plan had backfired spectacularly, and she was only escaping by the grace of the Fates and the cunning of her companions. “Is everything secured here?”

“Just about boss,” Jojo said. She and Raziya had bound and gagged Imani and Masika, and then shoved them, Nyala and the four other women into the now cramped jail cell. All of them let out angry grunts and groans from behind their tight gags, but none of them would be troubling the trio for a long, long time. Raziya had secured them horses, and soon they would be riding out of town. But there was still on last thing to take care of.

“Dear, dear cousin,” Sauda cooed.

Nalen Abayo Kara glared at Sauda. Her mouth was still stuffed up with a rag, and she had been tied spread-eagled to the bars of the jail cell. Her haughty attitude had been replaced by one of ferocious anger, but her limbs were too securely bound for her to do anything about it. Sauda smirked at her, and pulled the rag from Nalen's lips.

“You foul pig!” Nalen sneered. “I will hunt you down! Nowhere will be safe from my wrath!”

“You've already told me that before,” Sauda sighed. “You really need better material, cousin. But I wanted to thank you before I left. Who knows what those imbeciles would have done to me if you had not interceded, so I am truly grateful. Okay, I'm not. But I did want to gloat one more time before I muzzle you!”

“No...” Nalen said, spotting the leather gag Sauda held. “Don't you dare!”

“I dare,” Sauda said gleefully, and forced the muzzle over Nalen's mouth. She quickly strapped it in place, pulling the buckles as tight as they would go, until Nalen's cheeks were bulging over the highly effective gag. “I always liked you like this,” Sauda said, winking. “You should wear one at the family reunion, I am sure the rest of the family would appreciate it! Farewell, dear cousin, it has been a pleasure!”

Laughing heartily, Sauda, Raziya and Jojo exited the jail, mounted their horses and road off into the night.

Nalen screeched and roared behind her gag, her eyes burning bright with a hatred hotter than the sun. She strained against her bonds, banging against the bars of the jail cell as anger consumed her. She vowed silently behind her leather gag, once she she was freed, she would track down her damnable cousin. And when she found her, she would enact a revenge worthy of the humilation she had now suffered.

To the Fates, Nalen Abayo Kara swore it.

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