Kajira in the Camp
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A girl tends the fire in the camp,
The three moons hover overhead
        like luminescent windows to her soul.
It's barely daybreak
        the breeze is cool on her naked back
                even as the flames cause her cheeks to flush.

A soft smile settles on her lips
        as she hears the sounds of men sleeping
These brave warriors to whom she belongs
        Strong men who will soon rise to greet the day.

They will waken to the aroma of strongly brewed blackwine
        and the smell of freshly baked sa-tarna bread
She loves the camp, loves the men
        Each and every one of them
                Each special in their individuality.

Glancing around the camp she smiles again,
        This is her home, where she belongs
Her small fingers raise to the steel around her neck
It's not a pretty collar like the city girls,
        and she doesn't wear dancing silks
But she sees pleasure in their eyes when they look at her,
        and she strives to please them with all her heart.

These are tough uncompromising men,
        They work her hard and use her well
And she is happy, so very happy.

Leaning forward to stir the blackwine in the kettle
        her mind drifts to that one special warrior
Softly she sighs, seeing him in her mind
So tall, so strong, handsome in his scarlet;
Will he call her for his furs tonight?

She bites her lower lip gently,
        feeling her belly burn.
Whenever he looks at her, she lowers her eyes
        and blushes furiously,
He must know how she feels,
        she's unable to hide her feelings.

The birds begin to sing their morning chorus,
        The men will rise any minute now.
She forces fantasies of him away from her mind
        For now she must think of them all, not just one.

She is their property,
        Her duty is to care for them all,
If not she will be whipped.
        But that's not the reason she serves,
If fills her heart to serve them,
        each and every one of them
she is nothing but a slave
        and she smiles.

Copyright © 1999, swan{Ursa}