He spun her around, and she bit him in the hand.
"Ouch! You filthy whore!"
He slapped her, a stunning backhand to the cheek, and she felt her head jerked backward by the blow. The young man's foul spittle-laden breath assailed her, together with the stink of his alcoholic excesses.
"Help me!" Si'Wren shouted, knowing she was too far from the front gates to be heard now.
Her captor laughed, enjoying her fear.
Then she screamed out in hopelessness and despair, "Habrunt!!!"
"She calls her Slavemaster," said the one, gripping her tightly. "He favors her. You're going to die for sure, pretty one, after we've had our way with you."
"Oh God, please help me!!" Si'Wren screamed like a lost soul, sensing her doom upon her as supreme fear overcame her and she crumpled, sagging nervelessly in the man's irresistible grasp.
"Shut up!" he gritted tightly, striking her a series of stunning blows across the face delivered alternately with the open palm and the bony back of his hand.
"Aye, she must die alright," said the second. "Her very identity must be hid, lest Rababull's Slavemaster should find out. Hurry and let us be done quickly with her, before someone else comes along!"