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River God: The Horse Lords

Page 11

by Diana Drakulich


  But Hahq could not help it, he turned to their escort. ”You roast these people alive?”

  ‘’Aye. Hmmm smells good eh?” Their escort inhaled deep. He grinned, filed fangs glinting. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth. “We roast them slowly, building up the fire little by little. The meat tastes better that way.” He leered at Hahq’s obvious discomfort. “It pleases Ah-Gin to hear them shriek – for a long time.”

  Voron’s eyes flared a warning to Hahq – Guard your tongue. Our lives depend on it.

  They passed a wagon with a small barred window. A dirty tear-streaked face was pressed to the bars. Wide blue eyes fell on Hahq and he found himself gazing into an abysmal well of inexpressible, terrified agony. The eyes belonged to a little girl of eight or nine summers.

  Hahq’s heart was clenched by a cold hard fist. Anger rippled through his body. He felt Yeva’s eyes on him –

  Say something. Do something!

  He turned to their Androphagi escort – “Why is that little girl in a cage?”

  “Why not? Her flesh is good too. After she fattens up. A little.”

  Hahq struggled to control his errant tongue. The words longed to fly from his mouth – NAY - You will not burn her!

  Voron spoke in his ear: “Remember you are a diplomat now. One who thinks twice about everything and says nothing.”

  Hahq shook his head. “Our Sava would go barking mad in this place.”

  They approached the largest kibitka. It was surrounded by a veritable stockade of human heads on spikes, some still fresh and fly-ridden.

  Seated on a three-legged stool surrounded by Androphagi warriors was a plump stocky man. He wore a full length cloak made entirely of vari-colored human scalps in shades of gold, red, black and brown.

  Gesturing with his chin Hahq asked their escort - “He is your king?”

  “Aye. King Arkos, son of Akash.”

  King Arkos’ face and protuberant belly were bloated and ruddy. `Red as a vampir’, Hahq’s people would say. Interesting that the king was fat while his people were in various stages of want. Hahq guessed the king got first taste of all the meat.

  Chapter 22 – King Arkos

  Now the skin of a man is thick and glossy.

  In whiteness it surpasses

  Almost all other hides -

  Herodotus, The Histories

  “Voron, Yeva, Dobrich, come with me. The rest of you stay with the horses.”

  Fur-lined cloaks swirling about their legs, gold embellished swords and daggers brilliant in the lowering sun, the three Sauromatae with Yeva between them paced down the aisle toward the Androphagi king. The gold medallions lining the vertical seams of Hahq’s boots jingled softly in the potent silence.

  To the Androphagi, everything about these strangers projected an aura of arrogant superiority. The Sauromatae held themselves to be scions of the Solar Race. Sons of the Sun. Daughters of the Drakons. The cannibals deeply resented their wealth and position.

  The atmosphere was permeated with a sullen, jealous antagonism. For the Androphagi this meeting was god-sent. For once they had the advantage and they relished it.

  Within a few paces of King Arkos the Sauromatae went down on the knee, heads bowed, palms over heart. With his head bent, Hahq noted the king’s boots. They were pure white. Only one hide cured that white, soft and flexible.

  “Noble King Arkos, son of Akash. I am Hahq, son of Kahki. I bear an important message from King Raymaxos of Sauromatia.”

  Reaching into the pouch at his belt he pulled out a thick gold chain dangling a kneeling golden stag with long, elaborately spiraling antlers.

  “Please accept this gift of good will from our King Raymaxos.”

  One of the Arkos’ nobles stepped forward. Head bowed, Hahq placed the necklace onto the man’s upturned palms.

  King Arkos waved a hand. “Speak. We are listening.”

  “King Darius has invaded Thrakia. Soon he will cross over the Ister into Skythia. We invite the Androphagi to attend a council of war in Royal Skythia at Tanais.”

  “Hah. Spring, summer - War. Never ending. We have heard it all before. Many times. When is the council?” Arkos asked.

  “In two moons.”

  A loud buzz of talk erupted between the king and his nobles. Hahq noticed their eyes kept shifting to the Sauromatian horses. Not a good sign. These wild men can only think of what is before them. They lust after our possessions.

  “Good horses are more valuable to us than plunder.” Arkos turned to him. “With fast horses we can do as we will. Before we decide about this `council’ we would trade for your horses.”

  “We need our horses. We have a long journey ahead. What would you trade?” Hahq asked. These people have nothing we want.

  Their escort said a few words in the king’s ear. A hard smile curved Arkos’ thin lips.

  “The girl. The one in the cage. My guard said you looked at her with longing as you passed. We will trade her for…your bay stallion. There.” He pointed.

  Not Zar!

  “Noble King Arkos, that horse was given to me by Voivode Skopasis. I vowed to keep Zar with me until the end of days. Would you force me to break my oath?”

  “You dare deny me?!” The king scowled, eyes narrowed to slits.

  Hahq returned Arkos’ glare, his gaze steady, unflinching.

  “Oh, you made an oath to your voivode?” Arkos mimicked. “Here is what I think of your little oath. I spit on your voivode’s grave. Ptah!” With that the king deliberately spit on the toe of Hahq’s black buckskin boot.

  It was a huge insult. Everyone froze. A tense silence descended.

  Hahq stared pointedly at the spit spreading over the toe of his boot. His hand clenched on the hilt of his akinake, his muscles coiled for battle. Voron and Dobrich instantly covered his back, Yeva sandwiched between them.

  Arkos wants to instigate a fight so they can take everything. Hahq knew the one thing holding the cannibals back was the possibility of a punitive expedition mounted by King Raymaxos.

  “Oaths are made to be broken.” King Arkos sneered, knowing Hahq was powerless to avenge the insult. “Your sire will understand that you had to trade your horse away in the course of your… duty.”

  Hahq held silent, his face a cold mask.

  “Here – I will do you a favor. I will make your boots a matching pair.” With those words the king began to unlace his leggings.

  Hahq remained motionless. Watching. A lion among jackals. Every muscle poised to spring. King Arkos reached into his pants and pulled out his long fleshy dick.

  “Now I show my great respect for your people. I piss on your father’s grave.” Taking sure aim Arkos pissed on Hahq’s other boot. “Take that as surety for what I will do when we come to Sauromatia.”

  The atmosphere was intense. Hahq smiled steel into King Arkos’ slitted eyes.

  “Your majesty honors me. First I get your royal spit and now your noble piss. I will save these boots in memory of this great day. Allow me to honor you in the same fashion.”

  So saying Hahq unlaced his own leggings. Not taking his eyes off Arkos’ bloodshot beady gaze he took out his own cock. Then he artfully sprayed yellow piss over both the king’s pristine white boots.

  “Ahh, I needed that.” Hahq’s face was the image of satisfied relief.

  A ferocious murmur buzzed around the compressed circle as the people strained to see. The cannibals seemed more fascinated with the size of Hahq’s manhood than the dire insult he had committed upon the king’s person. So Hahq took his time, palming his manhood lovingly before putting it back into its accustomed abode.

  From their impressed murmurs he guessed a man’s respect was accorded by the size of his dick. The king had pissed on his boot for more than one reason.

  Now they have me in a pissing contest. These people are mad. If they attack I will take the king down with me. And they know it.

  Arkos stared in shock at his beautiful white, dripping, piss-stained boots. H
is guards gripped their akinakes, waiting for the king to give the sign to attack. Finally the king cracked a humorless grin. He slapped Hahq’s shoulder.

  “A man with nerve. I like you...When we roast your carcass I will eat your fat cock! Hah!”

  “Heh hey! He will eat his fat cock. Juicy meat! I want those big balls!” Delighted with the show, the cannibals laughed, clapping and pointing at Hahq’s crotch.

  “To show my regard, Hahq of Sauromatia, I will give you the honor of mating with one of my women.” Arkos motioned to one of the cannibal maids. He slid an arm around her shoulder. “Beautiful is she not?”

  The woman smiled endearingly at Hahq, revealing sharp, filed teeth. Modestly batting her eyelashes, she giggled.

  “Show yourself to him, woman. Make him want you.” The king commanded.

  Opening her kurta she revealed full round breasts with large dusky nipples. Cupping and pressing her breasts together she offered them to Hahq.

  He tried to look enthused. To reject the king’s woman would be an insult.

  “Ah, your woman is truly delectable, but my wife…” He put an arm around Yeva standing behind him and drew her to his side. “My wife is very jealous. She has threatened to kill me if I lie with another.”

  Lifting a skeptical brow Yeva threw Hahq a wide-eyed glance – Your `wife’?

  “But my friend Voron here,” Hahq continued, “HE is unmarried. And is he not a handsome fellow?”

  WHA-AT?! Voron’s eyes blazed a shocked glare at Hahq.

  All eyes turned to study black-haired Voron. With his blue eyes, light golden skin and lean, virile build, Voron was indeed a striking man. The Androphagi calculated the chances. Who knew - an exceptional child could be born from such a mating.

  “From the way `your wife’ was holding on to him, it looks to us like this Voron is her husband. Not you.” Arkos was skeptical.

  “Voron is my blood brother.” Hahq waved dismissively. “He takes care of her for me - when I am busy. But she is my wife.”

  “You owe me for this.” Voron hissed.

  Hahq’s lips trembled. Oh this will be good. He could barely repress an uproarious burst of tension-induced hysterical laughter.

  “Hmmh, first we want to see if your man Voron will be a suitable mate. Come. Show us what you have.” Arkos flicked a pudgy, commanding hand at Voron’s crotch.

  “Go ahead Voron show them.” Hahq urged, then flicked a salacious smile at the cannibal king. “Your woman will not be disappointed. We Sauromatae are famed as great warriors and great lovers.”

  Voron shot Hahq a furious glare, then began to unlace his leggings. The tribesmen hushed their chatter and leaned forward, awaiting the great reveal.

  The cannibal maid grinned enticingly at Voron, her filed teeth on full display. The image of those fangs clamping down around his cock raised its evil head.

  “Don’t worry, she does not bite. Hard.” King Arkos sneered to raucous laughter.

  However Voron’s dick had a mind of its own. His manhood shrank away, desperate to find sanctuary. Voron made a show of reaching into his pants and trying to find his dick.

  What he finally pulled out was barely enough to grab and wave. Though it was backed by some big brazen balls.

  Playing to the crowd, Voron repeatedly thrust his hips as if his phallus was Heraklean in size. A true prize.

  “Hah! Only a little one! Too small to see! Where is it?” The crowd stomped and clapped, roaring with laughter. The Sauromatae might be taller, richer and have better horses but the Androphagi could claim to be better endowed.

  “What say you woman? Do you want him?” The king smirked.

  “Nay.” The cannibal maid tittered and shook her head.

  This brought more howls of laughter from the Androphagi. For his part, Voron roared with relief. A miracle.

  King Arkos shook his head solemnly. “Too bad, the woman does not want you. But - we will trade the little girl for your bay stallion.”

  Yeva had kept her face tucked in the hollow of Hahq’s neck and shoulder, her right arm around his waist. If the cannibals saw her kako mati eyes there was no telling how they might react. Mata Drakaina please, just let this be OVER.

  The pungent scent of burning human flesh was overwhelming. Cold fear ripped through her veins, shaking her bones. All she wanted was to get away from this smoking realm of demons. But King Arkos’ offer to trade the girl in the cage brought Yeva’s head up.

  Her beseeching eyes fell into Voron’s silver blue stars. Her gaze then searched out Hahq and sank into his gold-flecked gaze – Save her. Don’t let them burn her. I beg you…

  Voron spoke in Hahq’s ear – “Offer him two horses instead of Zar. Give him my Hadeon and your Taras.”

  “I will make this up to you Voron – your choice of the two best colts from Zar’s crop this year,” Hahq murmured back.

  His friend only smiled – the look in his eyes saying – IF we get out of here alive.

  Hahq glanced around. Every eye was watching. The entire camp was literally breathing down their necks. Listening to the horse trading with bated breath.

  This was not about trading whether he would trade Zar. This was about getting his people out of Androphagia with their skins and hair intact.

  Chapter 23 – Small and Sickly

  With the rib of an ox

  He scrapes the (human) scalp clean of flesh

  Softening it by rubbing between the hands…

  The Skythian is proud of these scalps

  And hangs them from his bridle-rein.

  The greater the number of scalps

  A man can show,

  The more highly he is esteemed among them –

  Herodotus, The Histories

  “That little girl is small and sickly. She will make but a poor slave, if she lives. I will trade two outstanding stallions for her. These are proven studs who will greatly improve the speed of your pony mares. I will give two horses in exchange for the girl - and your oath that the Androphagi will attend the war council.” Hahq held his breath.

  King Arkos shook his head and held up three fingers.

  “Three stallions?”

  The cannibal king nodded. “Count yourself fortunate I don’t ask for more. But because we wish to have good relations with your people, we will give you the girl for three stallions.”

  “You ask too much. We have a long journey ahead. My offer of two fine stallions stands. With these two horses you can breed 400 mares a year. That is far more valuable than one sickly little slave girl.”

  “Why do you even want the girl then?” Arkros studied Hahq with appraising eyes.

  Why DO I want her? She will only slow us down. Hahq had a moment of inspiration. “For my wife.” He glanced at Yeva standing next to him, head down. “She has to cook for all of us. She needs a slave to help her.”

  “Bring the girl.” King Arkos commanded.

  The little girl was carried up, slung like a sack of grain over a man’s shoulder, then dumped at Hahq’s feet. Head down, dark blonde hair matted, she crouched in the dirt, not daring to look up.

  The child was filthy and naked but for a ragged piece of blanket clutched around her scrawny shoulders. Hahq felt a wave of compassion from his comrades – We cannot let this poor little thing be burnt.

  “Offer him my Jatras too.” Dobrich intoned in Hahq’s ear.

  “But Jatras is your favorite horse.” Hahq said under his breath.

  “No matter. Save the girl.”

  With a sigh of relief and appreciation at the generosity of his friends, Hahq nodded acquiescence to the king.

  “You win. We will give three of our best stallions for the girl. An excellent bargain – for you.”

  “First show us the stallions.” Arkos flicked a hand.

  Voron brought out Hadeon and Taras, one in each hand and trotted them back and forth in front of the king. Then Dobrich brought out his Jatras. The horses showed well, long necks arched over powerful athletic frames. They m
oved with an effortless spring in their step.

  “Done.” King Arkos waved a pudgy be-ringed hand. “Take the girl.”

  “What of the war council?” Hahq asked.

  “Heh. We would not miss your little `war council’ for this world or the next. We cannot wait to hear how you think to defeat the greatest army on earth. It will be like a flock of pigeons meeting a golden eagle. Darius will tear your scabby forces to pieces.”

  “Hah! Like dormice fighting a lion!” A cannibal called out.

  “Ground squirrels against wolves!”

  “An army of polecats. Stink like it too!” Another sneered. “The Persians will retreat from the stink and the Sauromatae will brag they fought a great battle!”

  Amidst jeering laughter the spiteful jokes went on. The cannibals triumphant, highly entertained at Sauromatian expense.

  A grim smile played around Hahq’s lips as he tried to keep a good face in a bad game. Let them have their fun. As long as we get out of here alive.

  By now it was clear to Hahq that King Arkos had no real intention of joining the alliance. If the Androphagi came it would be just to ferret out the alliance’s strategy, then sell it to the Persians. So be it. I did my duty.

  Yeva stepped forward, took the little girl’s hand and pulled her close. “What is your name?”

  The little girl could only stare. Mute.

  As a warrior who had created his own path of bloody destruction, something in Hahq cracked when he gazed into the child’s molten blue pools of pain. Her eyes seemed to be exploding from within, like punishing lightning strikes from heaven.

  “Now we eat. We have a special feast to share with you - Man Meat. Don’t tell me you have not wondered how it tastes?” King Arkos smacked his lips, deliberately showing off his sharp filed teeth.

  Voron placed a steadying hand on Hahq’s shoulder. You are being tested.

  “They expect us to eat this child’s parents?!” Hahq whispered to Voron, unable to hide the deep repugnance on his face.

  The Androphagi king noted Hahq’s evident disgust.

  “Don’t worry Sauromatian we would not want to offend your higher sensibilities. You will get a tough old goat to chew on. While we dine on tender barbecued Man Meat. It will taste especially good because those two fought. Always adds spice to the dish when they resist. In this way we eat their fighting spirit.”

 

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