Chapter Eleven: The Aryan maiden is brutally abducted

The Rath was rumbling over the iced ground, Yasmin at the reins urging her neighing horses on. Her long golden hair flew out in the rush of wind as she controlled the horses of her chariot.

Noshirwan, badly wounded and lying in the chariot; raised a hand and grinding his teeth; pulled the barbarian spear out from his body.

"Yasmin - daughter - flee! Do not let these savages destroy your virginity."

Yasmin's face reddened with fury as she heard her father's words.

"NO! No barbarian can touch me."

Her eyes were filled with a new courage as she bent one arm down and picked up her father's sword.

The barbarians were closing in fast.

Noshirwan watched helplessly as they gradually drew abreast of the Rath on their neighing horses, their eyes gleaming as they raised their swords high.

Then, with a sudden strike, a sword cut at the reins in Yasmin's hand. The reins broke and the horses of the Rath scattered, overturning the Rath. Yasmin and her father were thrown violently on the hard iced ground, Noshirwan groaning in pain.

Yasmin, though bruised, still had the sword in her hand. She sprang up from the ground and stood over her father.

The barbarians reined in their horses and galloped back to where the Rath had overturned.

They rode their horses slowly, forming a circle around Yasmin and her unconscious father.

Yasmin held her sword bravely in her hand. She was remembering the words of her father:

"Act as a true daughter of the Aryans."

On that day twenty thousand years ago, as the barbarians surrounded the young Aryan girl, there was open lust in their eyes.

This girl was more beautiful than any they had ever seen, indeed the most beautiful in the world. Her golden hair, eyes as blue and shimmering as the waves of the ocean; her snow-white skin, the fairest in the land and her full womanly figure were like tantalising diamonds to them. And her defiance was fascinating.

Their eyes moved to the sword in the girl's hand. And then their faces turned into hideous grins, as they looked at one another.

On that day twenty thousand years ago, evil seemed to have triumphed over good. Yasmin, her sword hand shaking in emotion; raised her eyes to the deep blue sky above. Desperate tears swimming in her eyes, her pure heart whispered urgently to the Lord God of the Aryans and of the whole world:

"Let Strength flow into my arms, O Ahura!

Today I fight to guard my honour -

Let the spirits of my ancestors

Fill me with valour!

I would die, but I will NOT

Let a Non-Aryan trespass

On even a strand of my hair!"

One of the horsed men dismounted and walked with raised sword towards Yasmin, his lips curling out lustfully. Yasmin looked at him with sudden rage and, speaking the name of Ahura in her heart; locked swords with him.

There they fought, the young Aryan girl and the barbarian; and the heavens themselves stooped down to watch.

Nature seemed hushed as the spirit and fervour of the girl to protect her maidenhood broke through the defence of the savage enemy.

The barbarian lay dead at her feet in the space of the next few moments.

Incredulous, the grins wiped from their faces; the other barbarians dismounted and rushed at Yasmin.

Yasmin, her face aflame with purity; held her own for a few seconds, her sword arm flying and maiming or killing the barbarians until she received a blow on the head from behind which knocked her senseless.

Swiftly, a barbarian picked her up and threw her on his horse which he then mounted; his face exult with jubilation as the others jumped on their horses.

Whooping with lustful joy, the barbarian band rode off into the horizon; leaving the chariot and the grievously wounded and unconscious Noshirwan behind.

On the back of a horse, the booty of the barbarians; lay the unfortunate Yasmin; the fairest of the Aryan race.

A Glimpse of what's Ahead

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