The Golden Dynasty f-2

by Kristen Ashley

  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.

  Chapter Nine

  The Celebration

  Night had fallen, torches had been lit and I knew by the tightness of my skin that I was burned to a crisp.

  Diandra wasn’t wrong, the celebration lasted into the night and things could get sordid.

  This was, I was guessing, because this culture was whacked.

  It was also because, like any people, primitive savage cultures or not, you pass the booze around freely, shit happens.

  It all started merry, drumming, dancing, jugs were produced and passed around, casks were set up, the latter two people partook of liberally as in, the Korwahk knew how to party and they did it hard. Women threaded through the throngs weighed down by huge wooden platters groaning with food. There was a lot of laughter, lots of random cheers of Suh Tunak! and the constant din of happy, party conversation under the equally constant banging of the drums.

  Throughout this, I sat on my white throne and often people would approach, children, adults, the elderly, and all of them had flowers or petals. Their eyes would go to their Dax, they’d receive his consent (an arrogant jerk of the chin, by the by) and these flowers or petals would be tossed at me feet or in my lap or anywhere around my chair so that now I had a pile of them around me everywhere.

  I had flowers but no conversation. The Dax allowed them to bestow their blossoms on me but they were not allowed to come close or speak and outside of his arrogant jerk of the chin, they ceased to exist for him too.

  Weird.

  Shortly after the celebration began, a woman moved to Lahn with a silver chalice that she handed to him, filled from a jug and then she backed away while I stared at her thinking it didn’t surprise me I didn’t get a chalice but it would become clear why very quickly.

  I was to be watered and fed by my king.

  No joke.

  If he wanted me to have a drink, he turned to me and offered the chalice which, at first, was filled with what tasted like orange juice mixed with pineapple and then, later, water and finally wine. If a woman (and there were a great number of them) advanced with a tray of roasted meat, roasted vegetables, slabs of spiced meat, cut fruit, flat breads slathered with what looked and tasted like herbed hummus or a white yogurt sauce with cucumber, onion and garlic or even pieces of candy that looked like creamy white sugar bark doused liberally with nuts and candied fruit, Lahn would make my selections for me, turn to me, lean into me, his hand held out and I’d have to take it not with my hand (I learned that with a quick, clipped, bark of “me” from Lahn at the beginning) but with my mouth.

  Annoying and, might I add, insane.

  But I played the role of the golden queen, took food and drink from my king’s fingers at his command, listened to the drums, watched the dancers and revelry, listened to the shouts of laughter and cheers and searched the crowd hoping to see Narinda.

  I did not see Narinda. I saw Sheena dancing a couple of times but no Narinda. I also saw the vendor who I got the bangles from. He was talking to some people and pointing at me so I waved at him. This caused him to smile a smile so big it had to hurt his face, jump up and down and clasp his hands toward the heavens again which made me laugh the only laugh I’d laughed since getting to the selection

  Shortly after the ceremony was over and the celebration began, with a terse order, Lahn relieved Diandra of her duties. She gave me an encouraging smile, moved quickly down the steps and disappeared in the revelers. This meant I didn’t even have my new friend to talk to.

  If I was truthful, there was a lot of it that was interesting. The fruit juice, food and even wine were all delicious. The dancing was manic and strange but fun to watch. And clearly Lahn’s people were having a good time. This was my first celebration where I had it in me to pay attention so I didn’t know the normal vibe but it seemed everyone was very happy, joyous even. And a lot of those types of looks were thrown in Lahn and my direction indicating a great many people believed the legend of the Golden Dynasty was coming true and a future of promise lay before them.

  And, I had to admit, it didn’t feel crap in the slightest that people rained flowers on me.

  That said, I was not wrong and I knew I was scorching under that hot sun and although Lahn often got up to wander the top of the dais, chat with the man in robes, warriors who came forward or other men who approached, I was not allowed to do so and since my husband could not communicate with me and since
he was in warrior king mode he didn’t try so a lot of the time I was bored out of my freaking mind.

  The sun had long since set and I was glad for it. Lahn had just offered me wine and it was the third sip in a row he allowed me to refuse. After that heat and it being hours since I had any water, I needed alcohol like I needed a hole in the head. I had been sitting all day but I was exhausted. I needed to get to the cham, figure out how to communicate to the girls I needed a cool bath and then I needed to figure out how to get the fuck out of this place.

  I lifted my heels to the seat, wrapped my arms around my legs and pressed my cheek to my knees, doing all of this carefully so as not to aggravate the tightness of my skin but doing it because night had fallen, a chill had hit the air and against my burning skin that chill was freaking chilly. Then I turned my unseeing eyes at the dancers.

  Then they blinked as what my eyes were encountering penetrated my distraction and my head came up. Then it turned away because I had seen a painted warrior with a woman who was wearing a short sarong, not a long one like mine and all of the other women I had seen while in that world. The back of her sarong was at her waist, she was bent forward, he was behind her, she had nothing but his hands pounding her hips into his groin to keep her up and they were fornicating.

  Fornicating!

  On the dance floor!

  Diandra called it sordid?

  I’ll say sordid. Good God!

  My eyes swept the scene and I noticed something I hadn’t noticed before. Most of the crowd had moved the revelry amongst the tents. The front of the dais was taken up now by painted warriors and a lot of women the type I’d never noticed before. Skimpy bandeau or halter tops (if they had any on at all!) and short sarongs, bare feet, very painted faces, wild hair.

  And I knew that the celebration had changed. This part was for the warriors and these women were not wives or brides. They were something else.

  And there were a lot of warriors, enough that at least some of them had to have wives.

  Seriously, I needed to get the fuck out of there.

  “Kah Lahnahsahna,” Lahn called and I turned my head to him. “Vayoo ansha,” he ordered, his voice quiet, his head tipping to his lap.

  I stared at him, my heart lurching.

  “What?”

  “Vayoo ansha,” he repeated with another dip of his head to his lap.

  Oh God.

  I didn’t move, just stared.

  He leaned toward me, his fingers curled around my elbow, gliding down to my wrist at the same time pulling my arm away from my legs. Once he had it extended to him, he lifted it high and repeated, “Vayoo ansha, Circe.”

  Fuck. He wanted me to come there.

  My concern was… why?

  Hesitantly, I slid my heels off the throne, let my legs go and got up. Lahn didn’t let go of my hand and kept it lifted high until I was standing in front of him. Then his hand released mine, both of his came to my hips and he pulled me forward, not so I was sitting in his lap but so my knees were in his throne at either side of his hips and I was straddling him.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Luckily, I’d been able to use my sarong to shield my legs from the sun but my current position still wasn’t comfortable because his horns had no pads and they were hard and rounded, digging into my shins.

  He tilted his hips down and reclined against the back of the throne so my privates were resting on his and his hands slid from my hips, up my back, pulling my torso closer.

  Shit!

  When his hands were between my shoulder blades and my face was close to his, he spoke to me softly saying something I didn’t understand.

  “You know,” I replied, “I don’t understand a word you’re saying.”

  He tipped his head to the side, his mouth twitched then he spoke some more.

  When he stopped, I informed him on a shake of my head, “Nope, didn’t get any of that either, big guy.”

  “Big guy,” he muttered, his mouth twitching again.

  That was appealing, I had to admit, but not so appealing I could forget he was a huge dick.

  I looked over his shoulder.

  “Circe,” he called, one hand gliding down my back, the other one going up to curve around my neck and I looked at him again.

  “Yes?”

  He said something else, it was soft, it was gentle, it went up at the end in a question and if that didn’t do it, his brows went up too.

  But all I felt was his hand that had lowered to cup my ass.

  Dear Lord, I hoped he didn’t think I would engage in what was happening all around us.

  “Lahn,” I replied, squirming a little with discomfort in his lap.

  He repeated what he’d asked but this time, his hand at my neck moved around and when he finished his question, it had curled around my jaw and his thumb and forefinger moved the sides of my mouth up in a smile.

  I guessed at his question and answered, “No, I’m not happy.”

  His hand drifted down my neck, my chest, over my breast and I sucked in breath when it stopped, holding me there.

  This wasn’t getting better.

  “Good?” he asked.

  “No, not good,” I answered, shaking my head and wondering what would happen if I pulled away.

  “Okay?” he went on and I shook my head.

  “No, not okay,” I stated and lifted a hand to curl it tight around his wrist at my breast, making my point.

  His fingers tensed at my bottom.

  “Not okay,” he muttered, his painted eyes moving over my face.

  “Nope,” I affirmed.

  “Me sah,” he stated, his fingers giving my breast a light squeeze then he took them away and lifted his hand, touching his finger to my chest, “Sah.”

  Not this, he said, this. In other words, he wasn’t asking if I was okay with him touching me but if I was just okay.

  “No, Lahn, I’m not okay. My skin is burned, my ass hurts from sitting for hours, I don’t like what’s happening out there,” I swung my arm behind me but kept his eyes at the same time I shook my head, “and I’m tired. I want to go back to the tent.” I pointed at me and then said, “Cham.”

  His fingers moved to trail lightly along the top of my bandeau as he said something in a quiet voice.

  “Whatever,” I muttered, looking over his shoulder.

  Then I heard him call out and I looked back at him to see his head turned. I turned mine in that direction and saw a woman with a tray headed our way. She nodded, bowed, turned and scuttled away. I looked back at Lahn when he started talking and the only word I understood was cham.

  I hoped this meant I was released from my duties and going home.

  Then his hand lifted, going around my back, he pulled my hair off one side of my neck then his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and he drew me closer and to the side until his mouth was at my ear. He whispered something there as his other hand left my bottom and started to stroke my back.

  I had a feeling this meant I had the sweet Lahn back but too little, too late. My skin was fried, I’d been bored out of my brain and people were fornicating on the dance floor, something he had to know was not of my culture but definitely knew I didn’t like. He didn’t give one shit about me. He could be sweet but when he wasn’t, he really wasn’t and there were far more of those times than the sweet ones.

  His fingers tensing at my neck pulled me back and positioned me until his face was all I could see and his hand kept stroking my back in a light, sweet way (the brute!) when he spoke again.

  “Me Geoffrey, na kuvoo?” he asked, his face serious but not hard.

  “No Geoffrey,” I stated and he nodded once.

  “No Geoffrey, Circe. Nahna Dax tahnoo tee, na kuvoo?”*

  He shouldn’t have dismissed Diandra; I had pretty much no clue. The only thing I could do was nod.

  “Dohno,” he muttered, his hand left my neck, his eyes moved to it and I watched his face go soft when he stared at it.

  That
look was appealing too, the asshole.

  Then he moved his hand to his chest and wiped it all around and even in the firelight I saw he was rubbing my gold dust on his skin.

  “Na loot kay. Rah loot quaxi. Dax loot Dahksahna,” his hand moved around my neck again and he jerked me gently forward so my face was in his, “Lahn loot Lahnahsahna. Nahna rah lapay loh kah luna boh. Kah quaxi lapan loh nahna luna anah, kah Circe.”**

  Seriously, he shouldn’t have dismissed Diandra.

  “I get that whatever you said you meant it, big guy, but I… don’t… understand… you,” I told him.

  He smiled and he knew I didn’t understand him. But he totally didn’t care.

  “Kah Dax?” We heard and both our heads turned to the side to see a painted warrior coming our way.

  My eyes moved to the steps to see another warrior striding up, eyes on us.

  Lahn started communicating his orders before he got up, both his hands on my ass, holding me to him and my hands went to his shoulders to steady myself so I wouldn’t take a header backwards down a killer flight of stone steps. He kept talking as his fingers gave my bottom a squeeze then he moved me slightly away indicating I should drop my legs. I did, he set me on my feet and I heard the name “Geoffrey” in whatever he was saying before he finished saying it.

  The warrior nodded and his eyes cut to me. Then his arm extended to the steps.

  “Cham, kah Circe,” Lahn said softly, his hand again at my neck, he gave me a squeeze, my eyes went to his face and then he tipped his head to the warrior.

  Another honor guard. I nodded, got another squeeze, Lahn let me go and his eyes went back to the open space.

  I followed the warrior, the other one moving in behind, and they escorted me to my cham and once they made sure the cham was safe for me, the flaps closed behind them.

  My skin must have looked as bad as it felt for when the girls came in and Teetru and Jacanda took one look at me, Jacanda scurried out and Teetru started giving orders. Jacanda and Beetus drew me a cool bath with some kind of additive that I could have kissed them for because it took the sting out of the burn. Then Packa and Gaal came in with huge, spiked pieces of an aloe vera plant.