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 Geoffr
ey 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 t
he 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.
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