Chapter Eight New Warriors

I felt the thump of something heavy and soft and my eyes opened.

The minute they did, I saw a furry paw and then felt the gentle thump of it against my cheek.

“Loolah,” Ghost mewed, I smiled at my baby, captured her in my arms and gave her a snuggle.

She squirmed free and then bounced and rolled around the bed, a bit on the mattress, mostly on me.

I looked to the other side of the bed.

Lahn was gone.

This was the first time I’d woken up in this world without him.

No, strike that. This was the first time he had not woken me.

And, again, I had woken up in this world.

I rolled to my back, pulled the covers up to my chest and stared at the ceiling as Ghost jumped around, clawing and playing and anytime I could get my hands on her, I scratched or stroked but she was not having that and kept bouncing around.

My mind was bouncing around too.

One, I kept waking up in this world. Two, I had no idea how I got here. Three, I had no idea when I’d be sent home. Four, I had no idea if I’d be sent home. Five, I now had no idea how I felt about that.

Two days ago, I would have begged, borrowed, stole or killed to get home. No joke. Anything, anything to get away from this place.

But now, I’d spent time with Diandra, Sheena and my girls. I had Ghost, a white baby tiger who freaking called me Loolah. The marketplace was interesting. My clothes were kickass. The warriors approved of me. I was a queen which, seriously, had its perks.

And then there was Lahn.

As freaking crazy as it sounded, the man was getting to me – smiling at me, carrying me around on his back in that sweet way, letting me have Ghost, being everything he had not been in bed those first three days and, in fact, being the best lover by far I’d ever had in my life.

Not to mention he was beautiful.

And I was starting to feel a weird connection to him that didn’t make sense but I knew it was there, I felt it, that connection, a fierce pull. And it scared me because I didn’t get it; it made no sense so I decided to bury it, deep.

At the same time I watched him carve into a man without blinking, then stick him with a blade. He’d hunted me. He’d had no problems raping me and then taking me repeatedly when he knew I did not want it and was nowhere near ready to receive him.

He still scared me at the same time he fascinated me, drew me in.

And I had seen my husband smile. I had seen him laugh. And both looked good.

I had a husband, which in itself was bizarre.

But my husband had still not (even last night) kissed me.

And bizarrest of the bizarre, I really wanted my husband to kiss me. I wanted that intimacy; I wanted it a lot, too much. So much, I freaking ached for it.

Totally… whacked!

And lying there in our bed, waking up without him for the first time, I had to admit, I was disappointed he wasn’t there.

Crap.

I didn’t want to be stuck in this world. It frightened me; not only the culture I’d been thrown into but whatever power might be out there that took me to it. I had to admit some parts of it were interesting and some parts even cool. But the rest scared the shit out of me.

And I worried about my Pop. I worried that he was frantic, wondering where I was.

My Pop lost a wife and now his daughter had gone missing. He’d loved Mom; he’d told me time and again they were the perfect match, made for each other. He’d dated, he was a good-looking guy, but he never got even close to serious with any of the women he’d had in his life. No one could replace Mom, I knew. He’d never said that but I knew it.

And he loved me, totally and completely, and he’d be sick with worry that I’d disappeared.

I also worried about my friends who I knew would worry about me. And I worried about the state of the office because, Lord knew, those guys didn’t know where anything was, they’d mess everything up and they’d do it in a way where it would take me a year to get it back the way I liked it.

I didn’t know what to do but, even so, I felt guilt that I wasn’t doing anything. And more guilt that I had laughed here, cheered here, smiled here, had sex I enjoyed with a man here and got myself a freaking pet.

“What am I doing?” I whispered to the tent and Ghost jumped up, all four paws landing on my chest and belly. I grunted, then giggled, then wrapped my arms around Ghost who squirmed and I heard the tent flap slap back.

I looked to see the girls streaming through, Teetru coming straight to me, Jacanda dragging the tub, Gaal, Beetus and Packa all following her with buckets of steaming water. Their faces were smiling but their manner was urgent.

Oh well.

One step at a time.

Teetru came to me, snatched Ghost off my chest and dropped her on her feet on the ground. Then she tugged at the sheet once, smiled at me and scurried off, coming back in seconds with my robe.

First step, get up.

I was sitting at the table taking my next step which was eating the breakfast Teetru served of passionfruit and grain mixed with a thick, velvety, sweetened cream cheese (totally delicious) and coffee when I heard a call of, “Poyah!”, the tent flap slapped back and Diandra and Sheena were there dressed, for the Korwahks, to the nines.

“Hey,” I smiled at them, taking in their cool-as-shit fancy duds.

“You will not believe what’s happened, Dahksahna Circe!” Diandra cried then didn’t wait for me to respond, she clapped her hands together in front of her and semi-yelled, “The Dax sent word to Seerim! He wants me to act as your translator! Isn’t that wonderful?”

I stared at her, Sheena grinned with pleasure for her Mom and then Diandra grabbed her daughter’s hand and dashed over to the trunks, all the while babbling.

“We must hurry. The ceremony is fast approaching and there is much to do to prepare you,” she straightened from the trunks and whirled to me, eyes bright, “and I get to stand on the dais next to my queen and translate!” She clapped her hands again and whirled back to the trunks, dropping to her knees where Sheena already was digging through. “I must tell you, Dahksahna Circe, this pleases me greatly. For years, my boys have been gone, in training. And Sheena, she’s not a baby anymore. She’s off and about with her friends, at her studies. Seerim is busy with training his warriors so I rarely see him. I’m alone a lot, too much and sometimes, it’s difficult to find things to do.” Her head twisted to me. “And now I have something to do and it is an important something being interpreter to our queen!”

She smiled and I smiled back at her. I couldn’t help it. Her excitement was catching.

Then Jacanda came forward, took my hand and pulled gently. I stood, grabbing my coffee cup and taking the last sip before I put the cup down and allowed her to lead me to the bath.

“Uh…” I started as I moved through the tent, “speaking of interpreting. Some things happened last night.”

“Oh I know!” Diandra cried, still digging through the trunks, Sheena at her side holding a sarong up and studying it. “It’s all over the camp. Well done you again!”

“Well done me?” I asked, allowing Jacanda to take away my robe and I quickly stepped into the warm, milky, fragrant bath.

“More proof you are the rahna Dahksahna,” Diandra answered, slipping the sarong Sheena was holding from her fingers then carrying a bunch of stuff in her arms to the bed and dumping it there. She turned to me and put her hands to her hips and I was pleased the milky water and floating flower blossoms covered me up to my chest. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?” I asked as I tipped my head back and Gaal poured fragrant, warm water over my hair.

“Consume the zakah?” she asked.

I blinked water out of my eyes and turned to Diandra.

“Zakah?” I asked back.

“The distilled spirit they drink.” Her face twisted. “I do not know a woman who can abide it. It’s a man’s drink and not even that, it’s so strong and foul, it’s a warrior’s drink. Tales sweeping the camp say you didn’t even make a face.”

“Uh… in my, um… land, we drink shots like that all the time. Not that raw but –”

“Unusual,” she muttered, interrupting me and whirled back to the bed where Sheena was separating clothing. “Well, even young warriors cannot drink it for the first time without gasping for breath or spitting it out. Learning to consume it in vast quantities is part of being a warrior.”

There it was. Guys were guys in this world, my world, probably every world.

“You honored a warrior with your accolades too,” she went on. “It is said you watched with avid interest. Another thing wives do not do. They were deeply impressed.”

I definitely got that.

“Diandra?” I called and changed the subject, “Lahn and Dortak fought last night –”

She turned to me and announced, “This, too, is sweeping the camp.”

I had no doubt.

“It was…” I made a face but didn’t go on.

“Not less than he deserved,” she declared, her expression going slightly hard. “Seerim told me he dishonored the games. Unlike in my land or, I am sensing, in yours, these acts amongst men and women are not as guarded, they do not happen always behind cham flaps. If there is a celebration or the men come back from war or plunder, it often gets quite,” she paused to search for a word, “sordid, as we would see it in our lands. And, I will say, there are other times too. They do not hide these things. But the games are a gathering of warriors, it is about men, strength, fortitude, cunning. It was not looked upon positively he did that to his bride, it was not looked upon positively that he even brought her considering it is clear he carries no feelings for her. And it was even less agreeable that he challenged the Dax to a match and did it armed. You do not fight in the games armed. That is not done.”

I got that last night too.

Gaal lathered my hair as I caught Diandra’s eyes and whispered, “But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Lahn killing him.”

She waved a hand in front of her face and breathed out, “Oh posh! He left his mark on him and Seerim told me it was a short blade. A flesh wound. Dortak, unfortunately, will be up and about in a few days. Dax Lahn knew what he was doing. Dortak is attended by healers and he’ll be just fine.” She leaned toward me. “But he’ll carry the Dax’s marks for all to see until he’s foolish enough to extend the true challenge and his headless body will burn carrying the marks of the Dax. This was the Dax’s intention. This was his punishment for dishonoring the games, a punishment I heard the Dax seemed not to intend to carry out, likely because you were in attendance but Dortak, in all his wisdom, essentially asked for it. And the Dax, given the opportunity, as you witnessed last night, does not hesitate in meting out punishment.”

Oh yes. I witnessed that last night.

Gaal whispered something to me, I’d heard it before, it included the word linas, which I’d figured out was eyes, so I closed my eyes and she rinsed my hair with another jug of warm water.

Diandra said something to Sheena and I opened my eyes, wiped the water from them and Gaal massaged what I suspected was a kind of conditioner in my hair for this was what she did the last two mornings. It didn’t lather but when my hair was dry, it left it shiny and soft. Or maybe the gunk they put into it did that. I saw Sheena move to Teetru who was sorting through the smaller trunks that held my jewelry. Sheena smiled at Teetru and they carried on digging through the trunks.

My eyes went to Diandra to see her pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Diandra?” I called.

“Yes, my dear,” she replied, dripping some milk in her cup.

“What does hahla mean?”

She turned to me and sipped, smiling as Jacanda rinsed the soap from one of my arms. “It means ‘true’, ‘pure’, the word means both. This, too,” her voice had dropped, “is sweeping the camp. After last night at the games, you are no longer rahna Dahksahna or Lahnahsahna but rahna Dahksahna hahla and Lahnahsahna hahla. This means, Dahksahna Circe, the warriors believe you are the true golden warrior queen, a pure tigress.” Her smile got bigger. “This is good.”

No. No. It was bad for they believed this and they believed Dax was the mighty warrior of legend, and, from what I’d seen, that could be true.

But I was a girl from Seattle. And I was likely a girl who would go back to Seattle. Not a queen who, with her king, legend tells begins a dynasty.

Shit.

I shook that off and, after Gaal rinsed my hair again, I asked Diandra, “What does kah fauna mean?”

Her body gave a start causing her head to jerk. Then she stared at me. Then her eyes warmed, her face got soft and her lips smiled big.

“Kah fauna?” she whispered, her warm eyes beginning to light.

“Uh…” I stared into her eyes, feeling my stomach dip and my heart beat faster, “yes, kah fauna.”

“Did your king call you that?” Diandra asked and I felt that it wasn’t only Diandra’s eyes but every female’s eyes in that tent were on me.

A quick glance proved this to be true.

I swallowed and looked back at Diandra.

“Yes, uh, twice,” I whispered.

Diandra’s eyes closed slowly. She opened them, turned her head to her daughter and lifted up two fingers.

Sheena beamed.

“What?” I asked and Diandra looked back at me, still grinning. “What?” I asked more urgently.

“It means, Dahksahna Circe, ‘my doe’ or, as we might say it in my land, ‘my sweet’ or ‘my love’ or ‘my darling’.” She moved toward me carrying her cup and her eyes didn’t leave mine as I sat in the warm, fragrant tub with flower blossoms floating around and stared at her in shock at the same time my belly didn’t dip, it warmed… as did my heart. Shit! “Warriors do not speak like this.” She shook her head. “No, this isn’t true, they do, but it is rare and when it comes, it is precious.” She was speaking softly, standing by the tub looking down at me. “My Seerim has called me kah fauna ten times in the twenty-two years he has been my husband. I have counted. I remember each time. And each time was a treasure.”

I blinked up at her.

Oh. My. God.

“It is true,” she whispered, “the mightiest, strongest warriors can fall in love upon gazing at their bride in the parade.”

Oh shit.

“Diandra –”

“A blessing,” she cut me off, still whispering, “for our Dax, for his people and for you.”

Oh shit!

“Diandra –”

The tent flaps slapped open, I jumped, water sloshed, Diandra turned and my eyes went there to see Lahn bending low to enter.

My heart warmed again and other places warmed too.

Shit!

His eyes swept the tent going clean through me then he looked at Teetru and barked something. She rushed to a chest and he turned to Diandra and barked something else. She nodded, bowed slightly and murmured something back. Teetru rushed to him with a largish clay pot that had a lid, he seized it from her fingers, barked something else at her, jerked his head at me, she nodded, he turned and, without a word to me or another glance, he stalked to the tent flaps and he was gone.

I stared at the tent flaps.

Then my eyes went to Diandra who was smiling at the tent flaps.

“Uh… Diandra, I don’t think that’s love,” I pointed out the obvious. “He barely looked at me. I haven’t seen him this morning and he said not one word to me.”

She waved her hand in front of her face and replied, “He’s a warrior,” like that explained it all.

“He’s my husband who you’re convinced loves me,” I returned and her eyes came down to me.

“He’s a husband, he’s a king, he’s a man but above all, my queen, always remember, above all, he… is… a warrior.”

I didn’t know what that meant but I knew it was important. And I didn’t get the chance to ask either because Gaal touched my shoulder in the way she did to indicate it was time to get out of the bath.

Diandra saw it and turned her back to give me privacy, Sheena’s eyes went back to the jewelry trunk and Diandra muttered on her way back to the table, “We haven’t much time and there’s much to do. No more chitter chatter. We need to prepare you for the selection.”

I rose from the tub, Packa instantly curved a thick, soft absorbent cloth around me and I stepped out.

Once I was out of the tub, I decided that was my last step, my next one was to be Lahn’s queen for whatever was happening today.

The step after that, we would see.

Then all seven women helped me prepare to sit at my king’s side at the warrior selection.

* * * * *

We were moving through the encampment and I knew by the hustle and bustle of people hurrying around us that the selection was close and this was a big event they didn’t want to miss.

I was getting a lot of looks and this was not surprising. They had no mirrors here that I knew of but there was no doubt about it.

I looked awesome and I looked like a queen.

A golden one.

They’d chosen a silk sarong for me, its color gold shot with pure white. My bandeau top was also pure white. I was wearing a latticework necklace of delicate gold chains that covered nearly my whole chest and matching earrings that hung so low, they swept my shoulders. I had on the gold wristlets that went from wrist to nearly elbow and the gold bands at my biceps, both I’d worn the night of the rite. I also had on the wide, heavy gold belt made thick with discs and more discs that hung down and jangled as I moved. The leather of my flimsy, strappy, low-heeled sandals was also colored gold. I had gold eye shadow on my lids, dark gold pencil around my eyes, gold dust arcing along my cheekbones and up to my temples and peach-tinted gloss on my lips. I also had gold dust in my twisted, curled hair, making it sparkle and glitter and if that wasn’t enough, lightweight gold clips, dozens of them, adorned my hair making it, too, a golden latticework of twists and curls.

And I wore the golden feathers around my forehead and I was right that first night when Teetru had fastened it around my head. The feathers were shiny, brilliant, so much so they shimmered in the sun. It was thin but each feather was perfection, pure beauty, it was the absolute coolest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

It was, Diandra explained when Teetru set it against my forehead, wove the ends through my hair and fastened it at the back, my Korwahk queen crown.

And it was a good one. A huge, jeweled affair would not in any way be better than those feathers. No way.

In my killer outfit, I felt ready to face the Korwahk people but even if I didn’t have that sweet outfit, that feather band alone would have done the trick.

We were being escorted by warriors, two at front, two at back, they’d come to the cham, slapped back the flaps and grunted, “Vayay, boh,” which Diandra told me meant “come, now” (though I’d already figured that out).

And off we went, Diandra and I, followed by Sheena, guards in front and rear, moving swiftly through the encampment toward the dais.

“I forgot to ask and before I forget again,” I told her, “I need to find a new bride named Narinda.”

Her head turned to me and her hand on mine in the crook of her elbow squeezed. “Pardon, my dear?”

“I need to find a bride named Narinda. She helped me; we were in the Hunt together. I haven’t seen her since. I want to make sure she’s all right. Check up on her,” I explained and Diandra nodded.

“I will ask Seerim to see if he can find your Narinda.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “Or, I mean, shahsha.”

She smiled her approval then her eyes flitted over my shoulder and they narrowed.

I looked over my shoulder to see a man, not a native, but one with blond hair, a hat on his head, blue eyes and old-fashioned clothing, white shirt with laces at the top (that kind of needed to be washed), tan breeches, brown boots. And he wore a low-slung belt on his hips with a nasty looking knife attached to it.

His eyes sifted through the guards at our front then Diandra and it hit me he was walking at our sides and he was doing it with something on his mind

“Dahksahna,” he mumbled when his eyes hit me.

Yep, he was walking at our sides with something on his mind.

“Veeyoo,” a guard behind us grunted, the man looked over his shoulder and said something conciliatory to the guard, I felt Diandra’s hand tighten on mine then he turned back to me.

“I am a man from your land,” he told me, I blinked and my step faltered.

“You’re from Seattle?” I asked, my heart in my throat but he blinked back.

“Erm… no, Middleland,” he replied.

“Veeyoo,” the guard behind us grunted again, this time a little more impatiently and a lot more scarily and the man quickly glanced at the guard and his manner became urgent.

“The Dax will not like you speaking to his bride,” Diandra warned. “She is not of your land. She is of another land but now she is Korwahk, she is queen. I advise you step away.”

He ignored Diandra, something I didn’t like all that much, and kept his eyes on me.

“It is said you are having difficulty adjusting,” he remarked.

“She is fine,” Diandra snapped.

He ignored her again and spoke to me. “You fight with your king,” he stated.

“I –” I started but Diandra talked over me.

“She is the warrior queen. The warrior queen has a fierce spirit. It is legend. Step away.”

The dais was coming up, his eyes went in that direction, a slash of fear he couldn’t quite hide marked his features, the warrior grunted again, “Veeyoo!” and the man’s eyes swiftly came back to me.

“My name is Geoffrey, Dahksahna, and remember, I am a friend,” he stated urgently, his eyes peering deep in mine.

I felt my brows draw together and suddenly there was no hustle and bustle around us because we were out of the throng and walking into the stone clearing before the dais.

I looked away from Geoffrey and up to the dais.

Then I sucked in a sharp breath.

The firepits were burning at both sides and behind.

And Lahn was there.

He was painted again, the thick black streak across his eyes, three thin ones sweeping his cheekbones, one wide one going from collarbone down the middle of his chest all the way into the top of his hides, thinner ones sweeping arcs from it over his shoulders, across his pectorals, ribs and abs. Black stripes circling his bulging biceps and muscular forearms. He was wearing a belt of huge gold discs that hung low on his hips.

And his hair was free, no ponytail, no braid, the long thickness of it waved and curled down his back, over his shoulders and next to his face.

I felt my lungs start burning.

Holy freaking moly… my husband was hot!

His head had come up when we entered the space and even though he wasn’t close, I saw it go hard with what could only be described as wrath and it looked like his gaze was pointed at Geoffrey.

Uh-oh.

We had continued moving across the clearing and I looked over my shoulder to my right to see Geoffrey had slowed then he turned and I watched Geoffrey quickly move back across the clearing and then fade into the crowd.

I turned back when Diandra’s hand squeezed mine. “We will speak of him later,” she muttered to me, I nodded and the warriors led us to Lahn.

We walked up the steps, the warriors peeled off and Diandra stepped away when I was presented to their king. His eyes swept me head-to-toe but they showed no reaction which kind of sucked because it took seven women a lot of time to get me all gussied up, I didn’t often feel I looked hot but I felt it then and it would have been nice for him to give me something. A lip twitch. His eyes warming. A wink. Something.

But I didn’t get something. I got absolutely nothing. He looked beyond me, barked something then sat on his throne of horns, leaning forward on a forearm at his knee; he also leaned to the side, looking around me stating clearly I was in his goddamned way.

Jeez, I hated it when he got like this and I shared this with him by glaring at his head with its flowing, freaking gorgeous black hair.

He didn’t even look at me.

Diandra caught my arm, scuttled me to the side, took me to my white throne and touched my shoulder, indicating I should sit.

I turned and sat on my gold pad as Diandra moved to my left side and the instant my ass touched pad, Lahn barked something loudly and the men started beating at the small drums.

I looked at him to see he was still leaned forward on his arm, his eyes off into the distance and I wondered what the point was of me being there if he wasn’t even going to look at me.

The man I’d seen the night of the rite wearing black robes and having his hair cut short (even the non-warriors wore their hair long) hurried forward and stopped at the dais. Lahn barked another order at him, the man bowed his head and hurried away.

It was at this point that I realized the sun was blazing as were the firepits all around us and it was freaking hot. I was going to get roasted out here, in more ways than one.

“That is The Eunuch,” Diandra whispered in my ear and I turned my head to see her bent to me.

“Sorry?”

She tipped her chin in the direction of where the man in the robes was and repeated, “The Eunuch. He has charge of the scouts who search for the wives for the Hunt. He has charge of the Hunt and its celebrations. He has charge of the warrior selections and once the warriors are selected, he chooses who will be trained by whom then, once they are of an age, who will be assigned to whom. The warriors spend years as what we would consider squires, serving at the same time training before they are sent out to make their first kill. And when we ride, once the Dax chooses camp, he has charge of organizing the chams, making sure livestock and horses are kept downwind, refuse is disposed of correctly, things the Dax has little interest in.”

I was stuck on something she said previously.

“He’s a eunuch?”

She nodded. “The Dax before King Lahn did the deed himself. I watched it. Everyone did. It happened on this very dais.”

Oh my God!

I stared at her then breathed, “Why?”

She shook her head. “There are those who…” she paused, “prefer their erm…” she hesitated again, “own kind.”

“He’s a homosexual?” I asked, aghast at where this was going.

“A what?” Diandra asked back.

“He likes men as in, having relations with them,” I explained.

She nodded and muttered, “He did.”

Yikes!

“They don’t…” it was my turn to pause, “they don’t allow homosexuality and they –?”

Diandra shook her head. “No, Dax Lahn does, he does not seem to care. He only punishes those who force it on others who do not wish it. The other Dax though…” she trailed off then whispered, “it was unpleasant.”

I bet it was. It was also unacceptable. So unacceptable, it was hideous.

I pressed my lips together and looked forward.

“He was cast out, Dahksahna Circe,” Diandra kept talking to me. “But Dax Lahn remembered he was a fine warrior under his father’s reign. He remembered he had a sharp mind. He sent scouts to find him and gave him this role. It is a high honor.”

I nodded, feeling slightly better about that (slightly) and even better that Lahn would do that but my mind had turned because I was watching the clearing and something was happening.

Then it happened.

“This can’t be,” I whispered to Diandra.

I was staring at the little boys lining up in front of us on the slab of stone at the foot of the dais. A quick glance to the side showed that Lahn was sitting in his black throne next to me, still leaned forward, elbow to knee, eyes to the boys. I looked back at the boys and saw that each had a belt in which they carried two knives at the sides and each had a leather strap across their little boy chests that held a sheath and small sword at a slant at their back, like adult warriors. I also saw that the knives and swords were made of wood.

And last, I saw that these boys had to be no more than four or five years old.

What was going on?

“Diandra,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“It is their way,” she whispered back, lips close to my ear and I twisted my head and caught her eyes.

“They’re little boys!” I hissed.

“My queen, it is their way.”

“But –”

She cut me off firmly. “Sit, watch, listen but do not disgrace yourself or your king. Do not. There is a time where you can defy your king, there is a time when you can make your preferences known, he has made this clear, but, Dahksahna Circe, this is a crucial ceremony to the Korwahk, it guarantees the future of The Horde so this is not one of those times.”

I stared into her eyes and she held my stare.

Then I pulled in a deep breath.

Then I turned to face forward just as Lahn barked an order and the little boys immediately flew into action fighting each other with their wooden swords, knives, and in some cases, fists and feet.

Oh man. I did not like this. I did not like this because it was not play. There were little boy grunts of effort and pain.

“The Dax must see their promise for them to be chosen,” Diandra said in my ear as the boys fought before me. “Their fathers spend much time preparing them for the selection and then their parents bring them here hoping even praying they will be chosen warriors.”

“And if chosen, they leave their homes and train?” I asked, not prying my eyes from the proceedings.

“Indeed, never to go home again until after their first kill which is usually when they reach seventeen, eighteen years of age.”

God, it was insane. By that time, they wouldn’t even know who their parents were!

Then I watched as the man in black robes started wandering through the fray, holding his hands over struggling boys’ heads, his eyes going up to Lahn on the dais. I turned to look at Lahn and saw him jerk his chin up then not a second later, shake his head sharply in a no. I looked back at the fray to see the robed man continue through it, holding his hands over heads then yanking at boys’ arms, sending some to one side where they sheathed their weapons (if they still had them) and huddled together and others he tossed (yes, tossed) away, indicating they were not selected. These boys scurried quickly out of the area and to the sidelines, melting into the crowds, probably to find their parents.

This took awhile, there were a great many boys, and I watched in the blazing sun and roasting heat of the fires as the last two boys were separated from fighting, one was actually bloody and he was tossed aside. The other one was pushed toward the huddle.

The robed man shouted an order and the boys lined up at the foot up the steps. I felt Lahn move at my side, looked and saw him rise then slowly stride down the steps.

Once he was two steps above them, he walked in front of the boys, his head tipped down. All I could see was his muscular back which also had a line of paint down the spine, arcs of it shooting out from the line and I wondered, distractedly, who had painted his back. He moved slowly down the entire line then he moved back.

Instantly, he turned back and started moving again, in front of each boy, his hand up, fingers raised, palm out, he would either flick his fingers to the side or press his hand down and those who got the flick were weeded out, those who got the palm press grinned and dropped to a knee, head bowed.

When he was done and the last flicked boy scuttled away and disappeared into the crowd, the drums stopped and Lahn started shouting.

Diandra’s voice was at my ear and she translated as, sauntering back and forth in front of the boys, he bellowed words these young boys couldn’t possibly fully understand.

“You are now Korwahk warriors. You serve me,” she said just after Lahn thumped his chest. “You serve your golden queen,” she said after Lahn, not looking back, swung a muscular arm and pointed my way before dropping it. “You know nothing now but horseflesh between your legs, steel in your grip, blood on your tongue, victory your only focus. There is no other path. You have no mother. You have no father. You have no brothers except those who wear the paint. You have only The Horde. You are The Horde. You serve me, your queen, your Horde. You will seize bounty; you will claim your bride. You will grunt and sweat and bury your seed to create warriors. You do not own your flesh; The Horde owns your flesh. You sink your blade into flesh; you do it for The Horde. You will wake up a warrior, you will sleep a warrior and you will die a warrior.”

Okay, this selection freaked me out but I had to admit, that was a freaking cool speech.

Diandra had not finished translating before a rousing cheer burst forth from the crowd and then there was a commotion, an avenue in the crowd quickly parted and warriors, all painted, galloped on their horses straight into the clearing, circling, reining, reeling, horses going up on their hind legs, front hooves striking the hot air as warriors roared, pounded their chests and some unsheathed their swords at their backs and crashed them against others. It was pandemonium, loud, out-of-control, horses bumping into horses, hooves slashing against warrior thighs, steel against steel piercing the warrior cries.

The little boys had all risen and turned around and, I had to admit, as they watched the adult warriors and smiled big white smiles, they looked excited.

Lahn barked a loud order and it all stopped instantly, the warriors cut their reins and then formed a semi-circle around the dais, the horses backing up, shoving back the crowd to make room for their large number.

Okay, that was executed so smoothly and without even a bit of disorder, I had to admit that was freaking cool too.

The second they were in formation, Lahn shouted, “Suh Tunak!” and Diandra translated, “The Horde.”

All the warriors and the crowd, shouted back, “Suh Tunak!”

When that died away, Lahn shouted again then turned his back on the boys, started up the steps and Diandra said in my ear, “Now we feast.”

The crowd was cheering, the robed man was hurrying the boys away and the warriors were circling their steeds to exit the area as the drums struck up again, a pounding beat, faster and people rushed into the clearing. They were laughing, cheering and more cries of Suh Tunak could be heard. Then they were stamping their feet, knees high, jerking their bodies and it hit me they were dancing.

Lahn made his casual way up the steps, turned, sat and surveyed the burgeoning revelry again without a word or glance at me.

Therefore, I figured my role was complete and I could get out of the hot sun and back to my cool tent to play with my baby tiger and decide what to do about my crazy life.

I turned to Diandra and asked, “Can I go now?”

Her head tipped to the side and her brows drew together. “Go?”

“Home, um… back to the cham.”

“But no, my queen, of course not. We eat, we drink, we dance, the celebration will last into the night.”

Was she kidding? It was barely noon.

“I can’t sit out in this sun until it sets, Diandra, I’ll be a lobster.”

“A lobster?”

“My skin will burn red,” I explained and she smiled.

“Ah, I see, a lobster after it is cooked. Clever, Dahksahna Circe.”

I wasn’t trying to be clever. I was trying to save myself from third degree burns.

“Diandra, I’m serious.”

She stared at me, the smile died out of her eyes and then she looked uncertainly at the king.

Then she muttered, “I see this job will have its downfalls.” Then she called out to Lahn, I looked to him and saw his head turn to her, he watched her as she spoke then his eyes dropped to my arm for a fraction of a second before they sliced back to her.

“Me,” he grunted and looked away.

“He says no,” Diandra told me.

She had to be kidding. He had to be kidding.

“But I’ll fry out here!” I cried, she bit her lip and I heard Lahn speak.

I looked to him and back to Diandra when she interpreted.

“The golden queen sits at her king’s side.”

I looked to Lahn. “Seriously, Lahn, this sun is hot, the fires are hot and my skin isn’t like yours. It’s not –”

Diandra was talking with me and Lahn cut us both off with, “Me.”

“Lahn!” I snapped, he leaned into me and his eyes were scary.

“Me, Circe. Me.”

He looked away and that was it.

No.

Okay, one good thing about that was that my dilemma was solved as to how I felt about being in this world and how I felt about my savage king.

And that solution was that I was done. I needed to find a way out.

As soon as fucking possible.

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