Another World

James Abraham Carter

Joe groaned and opened his eyes, then wished he hadn’t. The world he had awoken to was nothing like the one he was familiar with. The last clear memory he had was of riding his bicycle through the deserted park, taking the shortcut home from high-school as he usually did, glad that his final year of study was drawing to a close.

It had been a cool autumn afternoon, slightly cloudy. There was nothing to indicate anything out of the ordinary was about to happen. Then, as he’d been racing along the bike-way beneath the weeping willows there had been an intense flash of purple light, swiftly followed by a sensation of falling; then nothing. He must have blacked out when he’d hit the ground.

He got to his feet, battered and bruised and still a little woozy from the crash, but otherwise unhurt. Joe looked around wide eyed in utter disbelief. The park was gone. Instead, he was surrounded by lush tropical jungle that, with its crowding masses of vegetation and steamy air, bore some likeness to the ones he’d seen in TV documentaries. But here all similarity ended. The plants, both shrubs and palm-like trees were not green but jet black, and many of these strange growths had leaves with violet veins that glowed with a peculiar luminescence in the shadowed silence of the mysterious wilderness.

Where was he? How did he get here? But more importantly, where was home? He looked wildly around. His bike lay several feet away, front wheel buckled from the impact, and now completely useless. Suddenly, a weird piercing cry voiced by some unknown beast shattered the hot stillness. This, combined with the utter strangeness of the scene, was like a stabbing spur to an already spooked stallion. Panic seized Joe. He bolted through the undergrowth in blind terror, completely at the mercy of his fear.

He burst into a clearing, tripped on a root and fell face down on the loamy soil. The shock of the impact was like a slap across the face and brought him to his senses. Joe looked up and saw ancient ruins before him. The buildings were overgrown with vines. Trees sprouted from the cracked masonry, which was intricately carved with figures as well as unknown angular hieroglyphics. Could he be in South America? The ruins looked like Mayan architecture. He’d done a history assignment on these people, and so had some knowledge of their culture. But then there was the weird jungle, which resembled nothing like the rain-forests of Guatemala, or anywhere else on Earth for that matter.

The terrible truth began to dawn on Joe. The flash of purple light had taken him to some other world, like a doorway leading to another room. If this was true, which it seemed to be, then he’d never see his parents unless, by some miracle, he encountered the mysterious purple flash once more. Again, he was on the verge of being overwhelmed by panic, and no doubt would have given in to wild fear when a very human sounding scream snapped him out of it.

Hope rose up in Joe. The fear of being completely alone left him. Someone else was here - someone who could help him. But from their terrified cry the unknown person was also in desperate need of rescue. Again, the shrill scream rang out. Joe, intent on coming to their aid, rushed in the direction of the sound. Like a charging tiger, he leaped over fallen masonry, dashed up a flight of cracked steps and raced into the crumbling interior of a nearby building.

He skidded to a halt and gasped in horror. An enormous ugly statue rose up out of the darkness. A ray of sunlight pierced a small window, setting fire to the huge twin rubies that were its staring eyes. Before the monstrous idol was an altar, and to it an unknown victim had been bound. But it was not this sight that initially seized the teen’s attention. Rather, it was the three sinister creatures that stood before the sacrificial block. The things, each about 1.5 metre tall, looked like chimpanzees in general appearance. But instead of being covered in hair they had olive green skin as scaly as a snake, a beak like that of a hawk, and eyes on stalks like those of a crab.

All three monstrosities now focused their malevolent protruding eyes on Joe, and hissed in fury at his unwelcome intrusion. As two of the horrid trio rushed Joe the unnerved teen (who from the cry had expected someone human) turned to flee, only to have the temple door slam shut in his face, closed by the third beast tugging on a lever. The youth was trapped. In an instant, as the instinct for self-preservation kicked in, he knew it was kill or be killed.

He snatched up a cricket ball size chunk of broken masonry and hurled it at the nearest creature. The rock struck its head with a sickening crack. It fell dead to the dusty floor as the other leaped at him. Joe lashed out with a front kick as he’d been taught in jujitsu class. His foot slammed into its chest. Down it went in a fatal fall, smashing its head on hard stone.

The third horror hissed in rage. It came at Joe, murderously intent on stabbing him with an obsidian knife. Joe lashed out with a kick. It didn’t connect, but it did make his assailant hesitate. Seizing the advantage the teen quickly leaped in and slammed his left forearm against his foe’s limb, jamming the knife strike and at the same time thrusting the fingers of his right hand into the monster’s eye. The creature shrilly screamed. It dropped the weapon. Joe grabbed the beast and with a hip throw hurled it head first to the floor with skull cracking force.

Joe stood above his slain opponent, feeling sick over what he’d been forced to do. The only thing he’d ever killed before were flies and mosquitoes. A cry from the alter broke through his feelings of revulsion. The unknown captive needed help. He picked up the obsidian knife and nervously walked towards the idol. In the gloom it was impossible to clearly see who or what lay bound to the block. Would it be human or some other horror? Joe held fast to his courage, shamefaced that his resolve to aid the unknown being had faltered. He’d come to help, then tried to run away. The youth was determined not to again fall victim to his fear.

As he stood above the bound captive he had his answer as to whether it was human. The being, completely nude, was humanoid in form and obviously female. At 148 cm she was small - the size of an African pygmy, but no child. Her body had the all the curves and proportions of an adult woman, and in human terms she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her features were Caucasian in appearance. But her skin was jet black and her smooth scalp and nape was speckled with silver. Apart from silver eyebrows and eyelashes, she was completely and naturally hairless. Her eyes were turquoise as where her lips, the areola of her breasts and prominent vulva.

At 17 Joe was among the majority of his peers who hadn’t lost their virginity. The only naked women he’d seen before were courtesy of Tom - a friend of his who’d circumvented the parental control software on his laptop. The real thing, however, proved far more interesting than two dimensional erotica. Being young and at the moment somewhat immature, it was easy to fall prey to the temptation of the minute. And so without any thought to morality he explored her shapely body with his lustful gaze, focusing on the exposed delights of her firm breasts and hairless womanhood, which was explicitly displayed to him as her shapely legs and arms were bound wide apart.

A moan of fear drew his attention. He met the woman’s frightened gaze and shame came heavily upon him. Here he was taking advantage of her helpless state. She probably thought he was going to molest her, something which he had been tempted to do - to fondle her breasts, to explore her inviting cleft with probing fingers. Being 17 he had reached the age of consent when a person can legally engage in sexual activity with another. But this had to be with their enthusiastic agreement, which was the way his parents had taught him to behave. What would they think of him if they could see him now? Nothing good, that’s for sure.

Joe forced his lustful desires back into their cage, and began sawing at the ropes that bound the woman. As soon as the last strand parted she leaped from the block and warily backed away from him. Joe put down the knife and raised his empty hands.

“I’m Joe,” he said. “Who are you? Where are we?”

Joe didn’t expect her to understand, but he felt he had to say something as a way of breaking the ice. The woman looked at him, head tilted slightly like a bird. She noted his fair complexion, the strange growth on his head and his even stranger clothes. Clearly, he was not of her world - his alien appearance and language were proof of that. The fire of lust had gone from his eyes and she sensed there was no danger now. He wasn’t going to harm her as she had first feared. The woman approached him. She was still a little nervous. Joe, at 195 cm was tall and muscular for his age and he towered above her like a giant, whereas she was naked and defenceless. She prayed that she had not misjudged him as she hurriedly donned the shredded white robe the savages had torn from her, and cast at the base of the altar.

The woman then climbed onto the sacrificial block so she could look Joe in the face. Their gazes met. A strange sensation came upon Joe as he stared into the depths of her weirdly coloured eyes, which seemed to swell and fill his entire field of vision. Suddenly, foreign ideas and words began to flow into his mind in a psychic torrent. His head spun. The woman gripped his shoulders, steadying him. Time lost all meaning. A minute or a century could have easily passed. Then the flood of words ceased as suddenly as it had started. Joe came out of his trance-like state and found that he was sitting on the altar beside the woman. He was a little light headed, but none the worse for his extraordinary experience.

“My name is Cunia,” said the woman in an alien tongue. “Your valiant rescue will not go unrewarded. Who are you and where from? Never before have I seen a person of your immense stature and odd colouration.”

“I’m Joe,” he replied. “I’m from a country called England. I’m not sure how I got here. There was this weird light.” Joe paused in shock. The woman had spoken to him in a strange language and yet he had understood and answered fluently in the same tongue.  “How is it that I can suddenly speak your language?” he asked, amazed.

“Some of my people have the ability to transfer knowledge from one mind to another almost instantaneously,” explained Cunia. “We who have such gifts are called sycoru. We hold an exalted position in society. Don’t you have sycoru in England?”

“No,” he replied, even more astonished. “This place is very different from England, and Earth, my planet. Where are we and what are those?” he asked, pointing at the creatures he’d been forced to kill.

“I thought you were from another world,” responded Cunia, pleased that her deductions were correct. “The Mystics of Hastara claim they can sense the spheres of other stars and even catch glimpses of the strange life thereon. You must tell me of the Earth. But first I will answer your questions: This world is called Asawa, and those creatures are Mengi,” she continued with a shudder.

“These savages haunt the ruins of the Ancients. They worship the old gods of a long dead people, polluting their altars with blood sacrifices where flowers were once offered. I had been visiting relatives in the metropolis of Xiam, and was returning to my home city of Nefu when my escort was attacked by these beasts. I was carried off during the chaos of battle. I think those three were the only survivors of the fray. You are a brave warrior,” she continued, placing her hand on his arm. “My guards might all be dead. Will you aid me in returning to my home?”

Flattery, and the contact of her warm hand upon him was like a shot of testosterone. Many a youth has fantasized about playing Sir Galahad to a fair maiden, and Joe was no exception. The appeal of a beautiful woman, one who might prove very grateful for his help in more ways than one, was in his young eyes too great an opportunity to miss. And so it was that without any hesitation or thought of danger that he eagerly agreed to her entreaty.

“I am grateful for your help,” replied Cunia. “My home will be your home, my food will be your food, my water will be your water,” she said in the ritual formula of gratitude for aid. “Now, assist me to pull this lever that opens the temple door.”

Joe, only too eager to impress Cunia with his virile strength pulled up the heavy lever with a single heave. The door swung open, and the pair stepped out into warm sunlight only to encounter the confronting sight of half a dozen ferocious looking men. They were clad in black leather tunics, trousers, and knee high boots. All but one were the size of Cunia. The warriors, some distance away, were charging towards them, round shields and drawn swords glinting in the jungle piercing sunbeams.

“There is no danger,” reassured Cunia when she saw Joe tense. “Those are my surviving guards eagerly coming to rescue me. That big muscular fellow in the lead is Janar,” she explained as she waived to the man to show she wasn’t in any peril. “He is a great noble of Nefu and my betrothed. He has used his hunting skills to track the Mengi to their lair and thus find us.

“Your betrothed,” repeated Joe, who looked as crestfallen as he felt, his teenage fantasies rapidly deflating.

“Yes,” replied Cunia. “But don’t worry. You can still accompany us. There may be more fighting and we need every warrior we can get. Unless of course you have somewhere else to go.”

Joe looked despairingly at the surrounding jungle, which was both trackless and intimidating. He could search for a lifetime trying to find the strange phenomenon that brought him to this primitive and savage world, and never again encounter it. On his own, and without wilderness survival skills he probably wouldn’t last a day, and then there were the ferocious Mengi to contend with.

“I’ll come with you,”he replied as the warriors climbed the temple stairs to meet them. “I have nowhere else to go.”

*********

Joe stood on the balcony of Cunia’s palatial home, now clad in new clothes that one of the household servants had tailored for him. At the moment he was gazing reflectively across the metropolis of Nefu, whose architectural style reminded him of the illustrations of ancient Egypt in his history textbook. It had taken 15 days to reach the fabulous city of jade-like stone, which rose out of the black jungle like a bright jewel, its graceful buildings reflected in the river Istar along whose banks it had been constructed.

The Mengi hadn’t attacked again, but the journey hadn’t been without eventful incidents. Janar had taken an instant dislike to Joe. The Nefuan noble was a giant by the standards of his race, but even so Joe was still head and shoulders above his height, and the man was envious of the youth’s obvious size and strength.

As the group made their way back to the campsite where the attack had occurred, Janar’s distaste became naked hatred as he learned the details of Joe’s heroic rescue of his betrothed, and it became clear to the teen that the man was insanely jealous. Cunia wasn’t oblivious to her future husband’s immature attitude, and had reprimanded him in private, their conversation screened by dense bushes. But the resulting argument had been so loud that Joe couldn’t help but overhear it. The guards pretended not to notice, and Joe decided to follow their example.

By mid afternoon they’d arrived at the camp. The task of putting it in order and burying the slain commenced, and by evening things had settled down. But then sleeping arrangements became a contentious issue. Each of Cunia’s guards had a single tent - a vital necessity as it rained regularly and often heavily at night. These tents were barley large enough for a single man, and given Joe’s stature he was never going to fit in a shelter designed for people the size of pygmies.

Cunia had her own pole tent, which was a large ornate affair. When dismantled it was carried, along with other baggage, by ekani - scaly olive hued reptilian pack animals roughly resembling donkeys in size and general body shape. The woman invited Joe to share her spacious marquee, the offer being deliberately made in the presence of Janar. Joe glanced at the man. If looks could kill the teen knew he would have been dead in an instant, so venomous was the expression on the noble’s face.

What was also clear to Joe was that Cunia was using him to deliberately provoke her future husband. It seemed that although the fire of their argument had died down there were still smoldering coals beneath the ash, and that she desired to stir them up to flames once more. Cunia didn’t seem to be in love with Janar, who came across as somewhat of a lowbrow, and Joe wondered why she’d want to marry him.

“Have you no shame?” shouted Janar upon overhearing her offer. “You are soon to be wed to me and yet you invite a stranger into your abode. This is an outrage. That creature is little better than a Mengi. I know what your plan is. You don’t desire this arranged marriage, and will do everything you can to drive me away by encouraging this hairy beast to soil you with his polluting touch. You’re trying to force me to break our nuptial contract.”

“You are completely wrong,” replied Cunia, sweetly. “As you know I am within my right to offer shelter. Joe won’t fit in a standard tent, nor your larger one. I absolutely won’t have him getting soaked by night-rain and falling ill. It’s the least I can do for the man who heroically saved me from a horrible death at the hands of devils in the flesh.”

Janar ground his teeth in impotent rage. “Very well,” he hissed. “But if he sleeps in your tent then so do I.” Then to Joe, viciously: “I slumber lightly. If you so much as touch her hand I’ll slice your gonads off and stuff them down your throat. Do you understand?”

**********

It was noon on the third day of their journey, and the caravan had stopped to rest for the midday meal. Joe was on guard duty at Janar’s insistence, something he was happy to do as he wanted to make some contribution rather than appear to be sponging off Cunia’s hospitality. He’d been posted by Janar, who was commander of the party, in an isolated area of the encampment and on his own. Usually, two men were stationed together, but due to the losses from the Mengi attack there wasn’t enough warriors to protect the entire perimeter of the encampment using this method, and so the procedure had to be abandoned.

He’d been on duty for about ten minutes when a change in the direction of the breeze, now blowing at his back, brought a strange and unpleasant smell to his attention. Joe looked around for the source of the stench, and soon discovered it beneath a bush behind him. It was the carcass of an animal somewhat resembling a rabbit, but with fox-like ears and short spines instead of fur. The creature hadn’t died of natural causes - it’s throat had been slit and there was a lot of fresh blood splattered on the ground.

Joe grimaced as he looked at the mess. Was this Janar’s doing - a spiteful attempt to make things unpleasant for him? His speculations were interrupted by sudden movement glimpsed from the corner of his eye. Joe quickly turned and gasped as a creature exploded from the undergrowth. The thing’s body was feline in general appearance. Its black leathery skin was hairless and rough in texture. The head and teeth were more like that of a hammerhead shark than lion or tiger, though it was of a similar size to these mammalian predators.

The monster came at him in a silent ferocious rush. Joe thrust at the horror with his spear. It dodged, came at him again, claws swiping at the weapon. The teen leaped to one side, stabbed its flank, ramming the spearhead home. The point sank only sightly into its leathery skin, enraging the beast more than wounding it.

There was no time to scream for help before it was at him again. Joe darted aside, tripped on a rock. He crashed to earth. The horror prepared to spring upon him. It leaped as Joe snatched up his spear and braced the weapon’s butt. Unable to stop mid-air the creature fell upon the spear, impaling itself. It roared in agony. The spear shaft bent dangerously under its weight. Joe rolled desperately aside as the the weapon snapped. The monster fell. In its death throes its clawed feet churned the earth where the youth had lain but seconds ago.

As Joe shakily got to his feet other guards came running to investigate. “You’re lucky to be alive.” said one burly veteran as he stared at the carcass. “That’s a skarad. They’re the most feared of the jungle predators. They’re also scavengers who can smell fresh blood from many muvari away. It’s bad luck that you encountered one. You had better offer thanks to Utan, God of Fortune, that you survived.”

Joe doubted it was bad luck. The skarad had been drawn to him by the smell of blood from the slaughtered animal planted beneath the bush. A deliberate attempt had been made to kill him, and he was pretty sure he knew who was behind it. But he lacked hard evidence and so decided to remain silent but extra vigilant.

The days passed without further incident until the 14th night. By now Joe’s clothes were badly soiled, and as no others fitted he’d washed himself and his rank apparel in the stream they’d camped next to, which flowed beneath the raised roadway leading to Nefu, one of many routes that connected the various cities of the jungle. Having finished sentry duty, his bathing had been conducted under the cover of darkness for the sake of privacy, and after hanging his wet garments and underwear on some branches he’d crept within the marquee so as not to disturb his sleeping companions.

A break in the cloud cover allowed the light of three alien moons to sweep in through the open flap, illuminating the interior with bright radiance. Cunia lay on her sleeping mat, Janar some distance away. The woman, who necessarily retired before the men, slept nude, her body covered by a thin sheet. But this night was unusually warm, and in her slumber she had unknowingly kicked the bedding off thus leaving her explicitly exposed. Joe, being young, had an iron hard erection in a matter of seconds upon seeing the stirring sight of her unclothed beauty.

The teen drew a sharp breath. Were her eyes open? When he’d pulled aside the tent flap had the moonlight caused her to awaken? He prayed to God that it wasn’t so. It would be horribly embarrassing if she saw him in this state, for the cloth he’d wrapped about his hips did little to conceal his wildly jutting erection. Quickly, he dashed to his sleeping mat and swiftly covered himself with the sheet. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, only to be disturbed sometime later by a powerful and extremely pleasant sensation.

Joe opened his eyes and saw Cunia kneeling next to him. She had drawn down the sheet and opened the cloth around his waist. One of her hands cupped his testicles, skillfully fondling them as her warm lips and tongue adroitly caressed the head of his penis before taking the long stiff shaft deep into her throat. The woman pressed a finger to his lips, stilling the outburst of surprise that would have come as she expertly and eagerly continued her fellatio.

“I saw you standing in the moonlight,” she whispered, wide eyed after she’d brought him to an explosive climax. “I couldn’t believe how big you appeared to be; much bigger than the males of my people. I was curious. Now, I see I wasn’t mistaken. Do you mind what I did?”

“Um,” replied Joe, so astounded by the completely unexpected event that he really didn’t know what to say. Clearly, she had no idea about the concept of consent, and he later learned that this belief was largely absent from Nefuan culture, which was still at the Bronze Age level of development.

Cunia smiled sultrily as she wiped his semen from her lips and chin with the sheet and drew it up. Without another word she returned to her sleeping mat. Joe remembered Janar’s threat to castrate him. He looked at the man. He was still asleep, thank God. But even so the youth began to really worry. Cunia probably wouldn’t tell. She and Janar had argued again earlier over some trivial thing. Perhaps pleasuring him was her secret revenge.

Janar had already made one attempt on his life. No others had followed to date, and the youth correctly guessed that the not-too-bright noble had run out of ideas on how he could make Joe’s death look accidental, and thereby avoid the hefty fine for murdering a commoner. But If Janar discovered what had happened he’d go berserk and kill regardless of the penalty. Not surprisingly, Joe lay awake until dawn’s light.

**********

Joe was thinking of Cunia and what her feelings for him might be. She was smart and witty, and seemed to have a genuine interest in him - a bright contrast to the surly and odious Janar. His speculations were ended by the sound of shouting, which drew his mind to the present - the city of Nefu where he now resided.

Cunia and Janar (who’d arrived unannounced at her home) were having another blazing row. From what he could overhear Joe correctly deduced that it was over the large amount of time she’d spent with him during their journey, vivaciously asking intelligent questions about the Earth, and the fact that he was now staying in her house.

The argument suddenly reached its pitch. The ripping of cloth and the noise of a fist striking flesh, swiftly followed by a feminine cry of pain, alerted Joe with jarring suddenness to the fact that something was dreadfully amiss.

Joe’s normally pleasant face darkened. Occasionally, every couple argued, but in their case it was frequent, and now it seemed violence had been added to the mix. Quickly, Joe left the balcony and hurried worriedly into the adjoining room from whence the sounds had come.

Stepping across the threshold he saw Cunia lying on the floor weeping, breasts spilling from her torn robe. Janar stood over her, reeking of a strong intoxicant, a bestial expression on his face. His fist was raised to strike again. The awful sight proved to be revelatory. When Joe saw her hurt and tearful it was as if a part of himself had been injured, and in that moment he knew his lust for Cunia had transformed to love.

“Leave her alone,” Joe furiously shouted, so enraged he wanted to kill the man.

Janar turned, his anger mounting at the sight of the teen. “Keep out of this, vermin,” he slurred in inebriated rage. “It’s none of your affair.”

“I’m making it,” replied Joe with passion. “Where I come from real men don’t hit women.”

Janar cursed. He drew his dagger and lunged wildly at Joe, hellbent on foul murder. The teen grabbed a tabouret. He hurled the small table in the noble’s face. Janar ducked in time, but his attack was slowed and he wasn’t quick enough to avoid Joe’s counter. The youth seized his dagger hand by the wrist and with a palm-strike which, coming from a crouch and powered by his thighs, slammed beneath the noble’s chin with such force that the would be killer was flung crashing to the floor.

Janar scrambled to his feet, dulled to pain by herbal intoxicants. Feral with fury he forgot his weapon and charged at Joe again, leaping at him like a wild beast, clawing hands reaching for his throat. Joe blocked those murderous hands and viciously slammed a knee into his assailant’s ribs. The blow stopped the man in his tracks. Janar collapsed at the teen’s feet. Down, but still full of fury, he feebly grabbed Joe’s leg and tried to sink his teeth in. The youth quickly bent and delivered a swift knife-hand blow to the base of his foe’s skull that rendered the noble instantly unconscious.

Midoan, Cunia’s father, rushed into the room, drawn by the sounds of the altercation. He saw his future son-in-law lying bleeding on the tiles and Joe kneeling by his half naked daughter, who was also bleeding from the mouth where Janar had struck her.

Midoan snarled, drew his dagger and advanced furiously upon the youth, thinking the worst.

“No, father,” gasped Cunia as she covered her shapely breasts. “It was Janar who struck me. Joe came to my aid. Janar tried to kill him and he was forced to defend himself. I can’t possibly marry this brute now, not after what he just did to me.”

Midoan frowned. “Our laws are written by King Ashrod to mostly favour the nobility. Janur is an aristocrat, and there is no clause in the marriage contract that would allow me to break it without harsh penalty. The fine imposed on me for doing so would be enormous. It would ruin me.”

“You reassured me that Janar came from a good family and was a good person,” protested Cunia. “I felt pressured into this arrangement, and that’s the only reason I agreed to marry him. But that’s all changed now. Is money really more important to you than the welfare of your own daughter?”

“No,” answered Midoan in a troubled voice. “But I’d be bankrupted by the fine, we’d be out on the street. How will I support you? You have no skills suited to honorable employment. Prostitution would be your fate - so degrading for one of your high station. Marriage to Janar isn’t good, but I think it is the lesser evil of the two.”

Midoan turned to Joe. “Young man, I’m grateful to you for saving my daughter from the Mengi, and coming to her aid just now. A noble can strike a commoner. But if a commoner strikes a noble under any circumstance is an offence punishable by death. You must flee the city at once while Janar is still unconscious. I’m afraid I can’t protect you.”

“I won’t leave Cunia,” Joe replied with passion. “I love her. I want to marry her, even if it means defying the whole of your society.”

Midoan cynically rolled his eyes. “Love? Bah, youthful lust more like it. Besides, what can a money-less alien offer me? Joe, you have no assets that can enrich my coffers. Janar has many. This marriage will unite my house with his and thus increase our mutual prosperity.”

“Father, you’re one of the richest merchants in Nefu,” cried an outraged Cunia, before Joe could express his own disdain. “Surely, you can find contentment with what you have. What our family needs is the wealth of happiness rather than the wealth of money. You know what it’s like to be joylessly married. Why inflict that cruel fate on me?”

Midoan sighed. In his heart he knew his daughter was right, and that his obsession with accumulating riches was a sad attempt to compensate for the emptiness in his life.

“Too late.” he muttered, head downcast. “Too late. I completely misjudged Janar. If there was some other way I’d let you wed whom you choose as penance for my serious mistake. But the marriage contract has been signed, and the penalty … I don’t want you to be forced into harlotry.”

Cunia smiled. “Never mind my harlotry. I’ve just thought of a way to save Joe. There is an ancient law, not well known, that a man can challenge another to mortal combat rather than have the courts decide the issue. This will negate the mandatory death penalty because Janar will have the right for personal retribution, which his ego will force him to accept.”

She turned to Joe: “Initially, I used you to strike back at Janar, whom I never loved, and I’m truly sorry for that. But as time passed I’ve genuinely come to love you also. Will you challenge Janar despite the danger? It is the only way you can save yourself and for us to be together.”

“Of course I will,” he said without the slightest hesitation.

**********

Two days had passed. The application for the duel, lodged with Nefu’s efficient bureaucracy, had been approved. It was early morning. Joe stood in the fight-circle, which was located in the city’s wondrous central park. It was a beautiful day - a sharp contrast to the bleakness of the coming bloodshed. The youth faced Janar, watching his enemy like a hawk. The noble looked murderously and intently eager to come at him. Both waited tensely for the referee to give the signal for combat.

Each duelist was armed with weapons resembling the Fairbairn-Sykes commando knife of World War II. Joe was less cocky now than when he’d agreed to the duel. It wasn’t that he wanted to back out. His love for Cunia, and his desire to save her from an abusive marriage saw to that. It was just that the gravity of the situation had hit home. Janar was a commander in the army of Nefu - a soldier with professional training. Joe knew he was up against a mature and skilled killer, and this time the noble wasn’t hampered by intoxication.

The clang of a gong sounded and the fight was on. Both combatants circled warily, watched by Cunia, her father and the relatives of Janar. Joe breathed deeply to calm his nerves. Mr Sato, his jujitsu instructor, had warned his students that in a knife fight it was inevitable you’d be cut. It wasn’t the most reassuring advice. Joe hoped his six years of training in the art would be enough.

Janar feinted, then lunged, stabbing viciously. But Joe had seen through his ruse and jumped aside in time. The youth tripped his opponent with a sweeping leg. Janar tumbled, rolled smoothly to his feet. He sprang at his opponent like a cat, slashing madly. Joe leaped back. His foe’s scything blade scored a shallow cut. Joe had narrowly avoided disembowelment. Cunia gasped at the nearness of his escape.

Joe feinted with a kick. Janar slashed at his leg, but the youth quickly struck out with the other. Joe’s foot slammed into the noble’s elbow. Janar gasped in pain. The knife fell from his nerveless fingers. But before the youth could press his advantage his opponent scooped up sand with his other hand and hurled it at the teen’s face.

Joe flung up a forearm as a shield, saving his eyes. He glimpsed Janar racing for the fallen knife. The youth brought his enemy down with a flying tackle, flattening the smaller man. But Janar was far from being a pushover. He was smaller and agile, which allowed him to slip from his opponent’s grasp and avoid his stabbing blade. Both combatants grappled furiously for dominance, their writhing bodies sending sand flying from the fight-circle. In the violent struggle Joe dropped his knife.

Janar was a large man for his race. Not as large as Joe, but bigger and stronger than the average Nefuan. When fighting other men he relied on his strength, of which he was quite proud. Joe, by contrast, favoured well honed techniques over brute force, and with their employment the combat began to turn in his favor.

Joe managed to outmaneuver his opponent. With great difficulty he got a secure choke hold on Janar. The youth applied pressure relentlessly, remorselessly. This was no friendly bout. He knew the only way he was going to leave the fight-circle alive was by killing his opponent.

Janar’s futile struggles grew weaker. He couldn’t break the hold. The noble’s vision began to darken. His body went limp. He ceased to breath. Joe released his choke and stood shakily, panting from his exertions, his back to the fallen man, relieved that it was over.

Cunia’s eyes went wide. She cried a frightened warning: “Look behind you.”

Joe spun around. He saw Janar leaping at him. The man had been playing possum. There was a wild look on the noble’s face, and the knife he’d snatched up was plunging in a lethal strike. The youth lashed out with a lightening kick. His foot slammed into Janar’s chest, driving the man backwards and causing him to drop the weapon. Joe leaped for his own blade as Janar, fighting off pain, snatched up the one he’d dropped. The raging noble lunged at the youth.

Cunia screamed. Joe twisted as he simultaneously thrust with his own knife. Janar’s blade grazed his ribs as Joe’s weapon plunged into the noble’s chest. Janar staggered back, a look of shock and disbelief on his face. The knife slipped from his fingers and he crashed to the sand, this time absolutely dead.

**********

An hour had passed since the end of the duel. All witnesses agreed that it had been a fair fight and that Janar had died an honourable death. There would be no reprisals from the dead man’s grieving relatives, or the local law enforcement. Joe was free from the threat of death, and was now resting in the guestroom of Cunia’s home.

A knock on the sliding door made him look up from the book he was reading - an anthology of traditional Nefuan love poems. “Come in,” he said.

Cunia entered and closed the door behind her. She was clad in a pale blue diaphanous wrap around garment that did little to conceal her small but enticing figure. Cradled in her arms was a bronze statuette with exaggerated feminine attributes - an idol of Tevset, goddess of fertility, sex and marriage.

“My father has gone out on business,” she announced with a smile. “He will be away for quite some time. What are you reading?”

“Love poems. But none can do justice to your beauty,” he sincerely answered as he gazed upon her with rising desire.

Cunia smiled, reading his thoughts. She placed the idol on a small table then pulled a ribbon on her clothes. The garment slid from her, and she knelt on the sleeping mat before him, completely and unashamedly naked. The young woman cupped her breasts. “Do these please you?” she huskily asked as she stroked her large nipples which were prominently swollen with the excitement of uninhibited arousal.

Joe could only nod in agreement.

Cunia lay on her back. She spread her thighs and the lips of her vulva, which was very moist with the secretions of desire. “And does this please you also?” she breathlessly inquired as she began to masturbate for him.

Joe came to her and kissed her tenderly. Fortunately, the erotica he’d been exposed to on Tom’s laptop was of a sophisticated and romantic kind that focused on the pleasure of the woman, not the selfish patriarchal type that usually predominated. Thus, although a 17 year old virgin he knew mostly what to do and not to rush things. And so with Cunia’s assistance and eager encouragement he shed his apparel and began a slow exhilarating exploration of her trembling body with his fingers, his lips and his tongue which took her to the height of gasping passion and beyond.

A considerable time later both lay in each others arms in the warm afterglow of much lovemaking. Cunia had drifted off to sleep and so was oblivious to the trace of sadness on Joe’s face. The teen was thinking of his parents and the grief his mysterious disappearance would undoubtedly cause them. Still, if he hadn’t come to this other world he would never have met Cunia. She would have died a horrible death on the sacrificial altar, or if Janar had arrived in time to save her she’d have been forced to marry that drunken brute. Perhaps the mysterious force that had brought him here was Destiny.

Most people don’t get everything they want in life, Joe maturely reflected. He looked at Cunia, sleeping peacefully. She’d told him beforehand that in her culture a marriage contract was only required if the union was arranged. There was no ceremony resembling Earth’s Western traditions; rather, the act of lovemaking itself would make them husband and wife, provided it was done in front of an idol of Tevset, and anything less than that simply didn’t count. Naturally, they were now well and truly wed - as Cunia had smilingly quipped at the end of their passionate and unrepressed lovemaking - he’d filled everything that could be filled with so much of his male essence that she was literally overflowing.

In addition to their marriage: as Midoan’s son-in-law he would become an employee of the prosperous merchant, starting at the bottom of the business and slowly working his way to the top. Joe’s sadness faded as he realized he was indeed a very lucky fellow.

THE END