Hello all,

The General’s Gift is my new book. It takes place in the world of Calixta. I follow the story of Olympia, and like Calixta, she is an Exotic. However, Olympia comes from Palermo. The story follows the war that the five kingdoms are fighting. However, this story is not about the war but about what happens in the life of one exotic woman caught in the middle of a battle.

This is a preview.

CHAPTER 1

A Ransack

Boom! The bed shook, startling Olympia awake. She woke naked, between two bodies, her heart racing, and tried to find something familiar. It all seemed like a nightmare. The last time she roused at the sound of a blast was when she was a child. Her grandfather had died in a raid on their home, but that happened over twenty-six years ago. The memory from her childhood merged with the present when the loud sound of a cannon was accompanied by the pandemonium of men running back and forth outside the door.

“What is going on?” asked Sir Edgard.

“It sounds like a mixture of fire magic and black powder. We are being attacked. Let’s go,” said Prince Wallen. The two men shot out of bed.

“You—woman—get up, and dressed, but stay in my room until I send someone for you.”

The men searched for their pants, shirts, and boots. They dressed in a rush, leaving the room in a hurry, taking their overcoats with them. Olympia pushed the covers aside; with trepidation, she got out of bed. She needed to see the commotion happening outside. Running to the window her foot snagged on the prince’s belt making her stumble and fall against the window sill, leaving a mark on her arm. When all the courtesans arrived the previous night, torches lit up the courtyard of the castle, but now the blasts filled the sky with light. It reminded her of the fireworks shows that colored the skies in her home city of Nolia to celebrate New Year’s Eve, in the glorious Kingdom of Palermo. “Oh no, they have lightning mages.”

Being this close to war made Olympia’s nerves shatter. A week ago, when she left the Il Palazzo di Roberti brothel, her master promised she wouldn’t be in harm’s way. Hah, who would have known the war was going to reach her? Chicho, the brothel’s owner, seldom let her entertain too far away from the capital, but Prince Wallen had paid a handsome sum of gold for her.

The cold air made her shiver, turning her entire body cold, while her heart beat faster than a fox’s when chased in a hunt. Guards, mages, and archers stood on the battlements, firing. Her tired body tensed at the sight of unbridled magic coming from over the battlement and there was still an hour before dawn.

Stepping away from the window, she closed it with trembling hands. Her memories from her childhood came back to her. Her father held her in his arms as he ran down the stairs of the family manor. Fire consumed the matronlyhouse from top to bottom, but fear was all she remembered as her father carried her over his shoulders. At such a high vantage point, she could see her mother with terror as she ran, holding her older brother by his hand. Olympia shook her head, trying to whoosh the memories away.

She hastily retreated from the window and tried to distract herself by going to look at herself in the opulent mirror that stood in between two mahogany dressers. Her black hair which had been made up in long braids, now hung in wavy strands having come loose during the night. Olympia touched her golden collar. The cold metal was a constant reminder of her reality.

The hated device always caught her hair when she worked with uncaring men. She worked at untangling her from around the collar as she tried to fix her braids, fixing them back up and out of the way. Her arms and body hurt after a night of exotic service to the men in the room.

Olympia hated having to service more than one person at the same time, but in the end, it didn’t matter what she liked or disliked—Chicho’s word was final. Her smeared makeup made her eyes seem even more swollen and tired than she expected. She went to the bathroom, took a washcloth, dipped it in water, and tried to cleanse her face as best she could.

“Olympia, hurry! You must move fast.” Talking to herself only happened when nervous.

“Where is my clothing?” The previous night she had entered wearing little clothing, and the animals had torn her lingerie off in minutes. Her bustier lay in shreds on the floor. Moving fast, and trying to open one of the prince’s wardrobes, she almost cut her arm with the lock before giving up the attempt.

She then went to the second wardrobe and opened it easily. In it, she rummaged and found several pieces of clothing; taking out a pair of black pants, a white shirt, and a belt. Olympia hoped the prince would never miss the items of clothing. In haste, she put on the pants. Not surprisingly, they were big on her. Without doubt, she needed the belt or the pants would fall from her hips. The shirt was also too large, but she put it on buttoning it all the way to her neck. To finish the outfit, she found a long black scarf from the floor of the wardrobe.

BOOM! Olympia moved away from the wardrobe, running back to the window; she searched for the maker of the noise. A portion of one of the battlements had collapsed. Blast after blast came from the ramparts of the castle. With each booming sound, she jumped a little. A draft from the window made her shiver, bringing her back into focus. Fear all the way to her soul encouraged her to back away from the window.

Olympia needed her shoes. She looked everywhere in search of her sandals. In every corner, under the bed, even shaking out the covers on the bed, but she could not find them from the previous night. Instead, she chose to search in the wardrobe once more for a pair of the prince’s shoes.

After searching for a few moments, she found a pair of boots. She needed socks but could not find any. The boots were too big, but by this point she no longer cared. She had worn men’s clothing before; this was not the first time. By the time Olympia started looking for a coat, a young man unceremoniously opened the door. He entered the room with the gumption to get things done. The young man stared at Olympia and gave her a sad smile. The teen could not have been more than fourteen, but he already had a rifle, ready to join the battle.

“M’lady, come with me; Prince Wallen wants you and the other women to be together. Please, follow me,” said the young servant. Olympia placed the scarf around the collar and snatched a short blue coat from the wardrobe as she left the prince’s room. Following the servant, they ran down the hallway, where he knocked on every door along the way. The young man ushered forward the women who exited the rooms to join Olympia.

“M’lady, I thought we were far from the borders between Behui and Alhambra,” said Lyla, the youngest.

“We will talk later. Let’s go, run.” Olympia took Lyla by the hand, hastening her pace behind the servant.

“The boss will not like this. Chicho will require compensation if anything happens to any of you,” said Tapa, the women’s bodyguard that Chicho had sent to guard his workers. They ran through the hallways until their flight was arrested in front of a set of tall double doors at the far end of the second floor. The young man pushed open the doors to an enormous room.

When the women entered, they could see books lining the walls from floor to ceiling. Olympia’s only thought was that she loved books. All the women looked scared as they entered.

“Oh,” she sighed in wonder, “this must be the Prince’s library?” Olympia had never seen such a wonderous thing.

“Not his main library. This room used to be a bedroom, but Prince Wallen loves books and once he’d filled the walls with books he moved to another room,” said the servant as he turned away and left.

Tapa, their bodyguard, barked out an order to the women. “Wait inside the room; I will stay outside the door.” Baam! The door slammed shut without another word.

Olympia turned to look at the solid mahogany door that now imprisoned them. Through the central window, she could see fire and lightning raining over the battlements. The night turned into morning, as Olympia’s fears ran wild, but she kept her counsel. Some women wept, others whispered among themselves, while others managed to sleep, but Olympia sat vigil, silently.

Many hours later, the grandfather clock chimed again as it had throughout the night, this time to indicate the half hour. It was 8:30 in the morning. As the morning progressed, the sounds of battle continued. The women sat on sofas around the room, trying to relax by playing word games, but every time a cannon fired, they all jumped. Olympia needed to calm her nerves, so she walked over to the prince’s desk on the far side of the room. She sat in the chair, removed her scarf, and unapologetically, started to rummage around.

On top, she found a fountain pen, ink, and some paper. One of the pages had a red dot on its corner, which gave her enough inspiration to write a short story, so she took it. Writing always calmed her a little; this time, it was the only thing Olympia could do. While trying to keep distracted writing her story, one of the girls came to stand next to her.

“M’lady, you smell like alcohol but don’t look hungover. How do you do it?” asked Lyla, the youngest one of the women.

“No, I didn’t drink a drop; I never do. That bastard, Prince Wallen, poured an entire bottle of cognac over my body last night.” Olympia took a sniff at her arms. “Yuck, I reek.” Leaving the desk behind, she walked to a cushioned chair, sat and closed her eyes. A headache slowly formed at the back of her head.

BOOM! A cannon blasted, and Olympia closed her eyes tight.

“When do you think we can leave this place? The servants haven’t brought us any food and I am hungry,” said Meleni.

“M’Lady, I am thirsty,” said Catalina.

“I have no idea when they will bring us food or water. Tapa didn’t say anything about food and I know you are tired, but all we can do is wait. The servants will be here soon,” said Olympia.

“Is there a lavatory in this room? I need to relieve myself,” said Lyla.

“Can you wait?” Meleni asked, eyeing Lyla.

“No!” Lyla crossed her legs in her chair. After Lyla’s comment, Olympia remembered when she was young. Now, at thirty-one years old, youth seemed like a lifetime ago. Something had to be done, so she went to the door and knocked.

“Hello Tapa, we can’t be in this room all day. We are hungry, thirsty too. Some of us need to use the lavatory,” said Olympia. Tapa opened the door.

“A servant told me this room has a lavatory closet at the far end to the left. Wait patiently, and be quiet. I’ll try to get you some food and water.”

“Can I go with you?”

“No! None of you can leave this room,” said Tapa. He locked the door behind him, upsetting Olympia.

“Tapa said we can find a lavatory at the end of the room to the left.”

The women walked to the far end of the room, where they found a hidden door behind the bookshelf. The women used the lavatory. They even washed their arms and necks, trying to take the unpleasant pong from their skin. Relieved, the women sat back down on the sofas. All except Olympia and Lyla who went to the windows to watch as the men ran back and forth across the castle ramparts, carrying weapons and injured soldiers. The hours passed as the women continued to wait for Tapa and their food.

A blast, louder than previous ones shook the foundations of the castle, and some dust fell over the women’s heads.

“Oh no, I think the enemy have breached the inner walls of the castle!” said Lyla, still looking out the window.

“Walk away from the window.” Olympia pulled Lyla away from the window.

“Aren’t any of you afraid? Because I am terrified,” said Meleni, and she huddled into the sofa’s corner, in front of the fireplace.

“We will be fine. Tapa is outside. He will not let anyone enter the room,” said Lyla, giving her teacher a half smile. Olympia felt sorry for Lyla. Tapa was a buff man; but what could one man do against an army?

“It would be awful if they got us, but it will be worse for you, M’Lady,” said Catalina, playing with a strand of her blond hair.

“Why?”

“Yes, M’lady, you as an Exotic, with your beautiful face and body, those men will hurt you if they catch you,” said Lyla.

“You all forget, you are as beautiful as me, if not more. We must stay together, do you all hear me?” asked Olympia. The women nodded.

BOOM! Another loud blast came, but this time it seemed closer. Olympia, the only Exotic, covered her face with her hands, rubbing her temples cringing at the thought of war. BAM! This time, blasts and screams came from within the castle walls. The sounds of rifles, of blasts, of lightning causing destruction everywhere, all made her want to leap up and run away. The five women now huddled together on the sofa. Battle sounds being overshadowed by Olympia’s own pounding heartbeat. Her ears were ringing, causing her breathing to become more rapid. She felt faint. The woman next to Olympia cried.

BOOM! BAAM! BANG! Shots, blasts, women’s screams; the sound of people running outside the door. AH! More screams, now those of men … then—silence. Olympia grabbed the scarf from where she had left it on the desk and wrapped it around her neck; she needed to cover her golden collar. All the other girls had bronze or silver collars. They would stay together.

Lyla cried in her teacher’s arms. Olympia knew she had to calm Lyla down, but couldn’t think of anything. She wasn’t good at consoling people. At the moment, she wanted to take a brief glance through the window, but Meleni and Lyla would not let go of her.

A few minutes later, the door snapped open. The women jumped as a dirty-as-sin soldier entered the room. Olympia’s fears sprung to life. An Alhambra soldier entered with a rifle, pointing it straight at them.

Olympia participated on hunts many times. She had hunted animals with others of the aristocracy. It was expected of an Exotic. Now she knew what prey must feel when cornered. A cold sweat streamed down her back; feeling the coldness she trembled. All the blood drained from her face and her hands shook. “Will this be my end?” she wondered to herself.

They had no part in the fight. They were from a neutral kingdom. Palermo had not entered the war between Alhambra and Behui. Olympia could not talk or move. She stared at the end of the rifle.

“We are not citizens of Behui, Alhambra, or Yakuta; surely, they must let us go,” whispered Catalina, the smallest of the women.

They were not the prince’s property. As hired personnel, they must have had some rights. Olympia had expected to be in the castle for just one night and be returned to her master the next day. They were supposed to have been on a train back to Palermo following the noon meal.

Things sucked, but she suspected it would get a lot worse, really fast. Olympia wanted to crawl into a dark, cold cave. With every movement of her body, Olympia’s head pounded. Her headache had moved from the back of her head to between her eyes. Light felt like daggers entering her eyes.

“Aren’t we lucky? What do we ’ave ’ere? Are ye servants ’iding in one of the master’s rooms?” asked a blond soldier covered in mud.

“These are whores. Can ye no smell sex on them?” asked a second bearded soldier who came inside the room after the blond soldier. Of all things, Olympia was offended by his comment.

“We are not servants or common prostitutes. We are courtesans,” said Paulina.

“Oh, excuse me; let me inspect yer arm. Curtis, do ye think we could have a turn with any of them?” suggested the hairy man. Paulina stepped forward, showed her right wrist to the man, but a tall, equally dirty man entered the room, pushing her aside.

“All you women come with me,” said the tall man. He manhandled the women, forcing them to stand in a straight line.

“Now lookie here, are these beautiful spoils of war?” asked a fourth bearded soldier who entered the room.

“These are courtesans, they—” the blond man was interrupted before he could finish talking.

“One moment, we don’t belong to Prince Wallen. We are rented personnel. We are from Palermo,” said Paulina.

“Woman, we don’t care where ye come from or who’s yer master; now move next to yer friends,” said Curtis.

“Wait, you need to check all of our trade tattoos; there are differences between us.” Olympia felt a little braver after Paulina’s show of courage.

“I know the difference between a prostitute and a street walker. Now be quiet, ye lot. Stay in yer line,” said the tall soldier as he inspected the right wrist of one women after the other, but as the soldier was about to check Olympia’s tattoo, a man in a knight’s uniform came to the door and called him.

“No, you are making a mistake; you need to look. There is rank between—”

“Shut up whore; I tried to be nice to ye. All yer yapping, don’t let me think,” said Curtis.

“Please, you need to check—”

Curtis slapped Olympia and said “Quiet!”

“What are they?” asked the knight, entering the room in a hurry.

“They are definitely high-quality courtesans,” said Curtis, pushing Olympia to the side.

“Take them to the general’s tent; these are expensive loot. Can they understand our language?” asked the knight.

“Two of them can, but the pretty one with the black hair can’t keep her trap shut,” said Curtis.

“Gag her if she can’t keep quiet; I hate women who can’t keep quiet when you ask them to,” said the knight and left. The soldier tied each of the women’s hands, and then linked them all to a long rope to keep them together.

“All of you women follow me. Y’all gave me a headache, so I don’t want to hear another word,” said Curtis, pointing his index finger from Paulina to Olympia’s face. Olympia walked in front of the other girls, trying to shield them. Darkness filled the hallway, so when they stepped out the door, Olympia almost fell over the body of a man with a bullet wound to his back.

“Oh no! This can’t be,” said Olympia. Tapa lay face down in a pool of his blood. Each woman made a gasping sound as they stepped out of the room. Olympia’s hands shook when she could not control her anxiety.

“Move, hurry; I don’t have all day,” said Curtis. As the women walked down a darkened set of stairs and along a long hallway, they could see blood-covered walls, with dismembered men lying here and there, and Olympia heard screams coming from the rooms she passed.

“Can you hear those cries?” asked Lyla.

“These brutes are hurting someone inside these rooms,” said Meleni.

“This is scary,” whispered Lyla.

“Don’t worry; all will be fine if we keep our wits.” Olympia said with trembling words and more courage than before. They walked slowly, making sure not to step onto any of the dead bodies. The soldiers escorted them out of the castle, pushing them forward, but Olympia stumbled as they walked out. The screams, dismembered bodies, guts of men splattered on the floor and the semi-darkness inside the castle made it all seem like a nightmarish hell that she just wanted to escape from and get outside. But when they finally did step outside, the light of day blinded her, and reality sank in making her want to cry, but she didn’t. Olympia raised her hands to cover her eyes.

Her ears rung again; her stomach pinched with pain like no other, which made her gag. A few seconds later, she turned her face, trying to let go of what little she had in her stomach. The aftertaste of putrid vile left her wanting to shout, but once Olympia had vomited, her head felt a little better. The other women were trying to help Olympia, but the man holding the rope pulled it, making the other women stumble and fall as they tried to avoid Olympia’s vomit.

Once outside, the reek of gunpowder, blood, and feces assailed their senses. Dead bodies littered the castle grounds, but in front of the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, the soldiers piled the dead along with those still living, but maimed and in the throes of death. Men of varied ages lay in every direction; one had his eyes open, staring. Olympia turned her face, not wanting to see the glaze of death that covered the dead man’s eyes. Olympia tried to take the shallowest of breaths, but still she could not avoid the gagging sensation, as she hunched over. The next minute, she had vomit on her pants and shoes.

“Yuck!” Olympia said straightening her back, wanting to die, but she cleaned her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. Her own smell made her gag again, but this time she took control of herself.

“Young man, I need you to listen to me. We are from Palermo. We are rented personnel. We don’t belong to the lord of the castle. The law says we must return to our land. You are making a mistake,” said Olympia.

“I don’t know nothing about no law,” said Curtis.

“At least look at each of our trade tattoos. We are highly educated. I am an Exo—” she tried to say. The soldier slapped her; he took a dirty rag from his back pocket, and placed it in Olympia’s mouth. “I tried to be nice and told ye to shut yer trap.” Curtis pulled her by her arm.

“Olympia, please, when they take your gag off, don’t talk. Heaven knows what these animals will do to you. Look at how they are treating us as we are now. They didn’t care to check your trade tattoos.” Meleni glared at the men surrounding them.

“They are filthy animals, all of them,” whispered Lyla.

“Stop talking,” shouted the old bearded man.

The soldiers made the women stand in a line in front of the castle wall while men were catcalling and whistling. Olympia frowned at the surrounding men wanting to slap all of them. It was infuriating having to stand outside under the scorching sun. None of them were street walkers.

However, she didn’t look like an Exotic. Olympia had covered her Exotic tattoo and her golden collar, with her shirt and scarf. The sleeves of her coat covered the multiple tattoos of her skills on her right wrist. Her braids were loose, she smelled like sex, alcohol and vomit. Her dry mouth made her want to jump into the nearest water well. Her eyes stung with the sweat that poured from her brow. The heat was making Olympia dizzy, but she stood tall. The other girls’ faces were turning red from the sun. Olympia turned around, giving her back to the sun, and the other women did the same.

“I hope they take us away from here soon. This heat is making me so thirsty,” said Meleni.