. and accompanied her words with a vicious cut of the switch. Xena shrieked and clambered up on the wooden pallet. Sobbing, she knelt, turning towards...Flavia. The young woman lashed the switch across the lush breasts which thrust towards her. Xena shrieked more loudly. “Where are your hands supposed to be, slave?” demanded Flavia. Xena remembered. She placed her clasped hands on top of her head, seeing the cruel young face through a mist of tears. Flavia was blonde and exceedingly pretty but. The handle, the color of old blood, was made of ironwood, and polished to perfection.The blades could be hammered through a half inch steel rod and the edge would still shave. Indeed, there were no provisions for sharpening the knives, for they never needed it. Nor were the blades brittle. By unit tradition, combat knives could only be named after having been bloodied in battle. The men usually picked female names, and the women usually picked male names.Whitworth sat watching Jeff as he. She seemed even more frightened, and moved to back away until I sat down. She stopped her feet at that point, but the near panic remained in her eyes.Tamara saw all this and spoke. "Sorry James. Bethany and I knew that Eric had not treated them well, but we thought Christine would be fine here." Is that her name?" I asked as the other woman looked on quietly.Tamara nodded. "Yes, the older concubine is Lisa, the terrified girl is Christine. I think Lisa should tell their story though."Lisa. “I have never been stabbed with a shoe heel.” “Sorry, I normally don’t flail my legs. Oh, it’s so tight here! The fact that I had survived made me feel strange. “No need for apologies. If you knew such thing would happen, you would have probably put on ballet shoes.” “Of course,” she said, giggling. “Are you scared?” “The worst is behind us, I suppose. I feel strange though, due to the adrenaline maybe. “It’s great to be alive. Are you in pain?” “My ankle is a bit stiff, and it started.