“Thank you, my lord.” The man bowed again as he stood upon the large ceremonial carpet, its surface embroidered with runes and images of hunters. “I will share your just wisdom with the rest of the clansmen.” The petitioner made the first careful step back, not wanting to offend his liege by turning his back on him. “Move along. Lord Vorashkarin doesn't have all day. There are other petitioners in the queue.” The young warrior in the crowd exclaimed.
“Thank you for bringing the issue to my attention.” The man sitting in the high chair said. Lord Vorashkarin himself. Then, he turned to look at the warrior who tried to hurry the petitioner until the warrior coughed and lowered his gaze. There was no need to humiliate the young man and demand an apology. The lowered eyes were enough.
“The last petitioner…” The shaman started the announcement. “…is a Daurqu Kiren,” the elder Dakkar said, without even an attempt to hide a smile on his face. "She is escorted by the hunter Skahl."
The petitioner woman was dwarfed by the warrior escorting her. He held her hands behind her back as he pushed her towards the centre of the ceremonial carpet, on the exact spot where the man stood before her.
“The woman has a plea on behalf of her brother. She is from…” Shaman began, but his words were quickly drowned out by cheers from the crowd. The carpet was clear of the people, except Kiren and her escort, but she was surrounded by Dakkari warriors, who stood in a circle all around the carpet. And if that weren't enough, by now, she could feel the drilling gazes of the women. Concubines, most likely. There were three of them, sitting on their knees to the left of the high chair occupied by Lord Varosh. Each one of Dakkar's women was larger and visibly more muscular than Kiren, and if males looked like they were amused by the petite petitioner, then the looks that the women cast at her held clear promise of violence if she overstayed her welcome.
“She is not Dakkar. Why do we have to waste…” One of the concubines started.
“Quiet,” Vorash said. He didn't raise his voice, nor did he need to. The room went silent with an occasional sound of shuffling of the leather armour. “Speak, girl, all subjects of mine have the right to plead.” Vorash gestured towards the girl. He spoke to her, though it was clear that he addressed the hall in its entirety. He glanced at the warrior behind her, who tightened his grip on her wrists either to remind her that she had a petition, to hurry her up, or most likely just because he enjoyed having a girl under his control.
“My lord. We should punish the one who hunted, not his family member.” One of the warriors spoke after Kiren made her case, and Vorash slowly nodded. His eyes locked with the lithe woman. There was something in her. Some interpreted the nod as agreement, but Vorash simply nodded as he contemplated his options. He stood up and made his way towards the girl.
He moved like a predator on a prowl; in less than three steps, he was towering over the girl, already restrained by his officer. He noticed the momentary fear on her face and the desire to retreat into Skahl's muscular abdomen. But she must have remembered that the man behind her was no friendlier than the man in front of her.
“We do not punish to punish,” Vorash said. He didn't touch Kiren. Yet. “We punish to prevent undesirable behaviour in the future. Her brother violated the law. But it is the fault of those who miseducated him. It is the fault of his tribe.” Vorash paused after every sentence or two to let his brethren absorb his words. “If we take her brother's life, they will mourn him. But if we accept her.” Vorash's lips rose in a covetous smile. Without any preamble, his hand reached towards her pubic bone and covered it like a piece of underwear, if underwear could be forceful and warm. “If we take this Daurqu woman, we take their fertility.” He paused mid-sentence, his nostrils flaring as his finger pressed against the thick fabric of her dress and between her thighs, his claw tearing through the white linen and leaving a thin red trail until it pressed right against the sensitive hood.
Vorash hasn't realised yet that this very act has sealed his fate. Their fate. Like many men in power, his mind was too occupied with finding an excuse to keep a pretty girl all to himself. He pushed his fingers further, between her thighs, and to his surprise, she held the gaze. The sound with which he exhaled bordered on a muffled growl. And if Kerin cared to look behind Vorash, she would see three pairs of eyes of concubines, who looked at her with an obvious desire to get rid of the girl.
The spell, like a trap, started working its way. Embroidering itself into their minds and their hearts, not unlike the imagery on the carpet below their feet.
Whoever set the trap expected Varoshkerin to draw Kerin's blood, but not this fast. And in a different context.
“Plea accepted.” The king of Dakkar said, and his attention switched to Skahl. “Bare her.” The order was short, stripped to its essence, to his want to make her his.
𝓣̘𝓱̝𝓮̱ 𝓱̬𝓪̰𝓵̖𝓵̙ 𝓯̫𝓲̩𝓵̪𝓵̱𝓮̖𝓭̘ 𝔀̩𝓲̯𝓽̠𝓱̝ 𝓽̦𝓱̞𝓮̳ 𝓼̜𝓸̘𝓾̩𝓷̤𝓭̯ 𝓸̱𝓯̠ 𝓯̙𝓪̮𝓫̗𝓻̪𝓲̝𝓬̯ 𝓽̳𝓮̘𝓪̱𝓻̥𝓲̩𝓷̯𝓰̤.
#a077b1
|
|
Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
