by Katy Winter
He felt a tug and turned to look down at the warlord who still held a hank of the long dark hair. The warlord pulled Bethel's head close to his.
"You will not disappoint me, boy, will you? That would not be wise."
"No, my lord," murmured Bethel, aware of eyes so close to his he blinked rapidly.
"Bensar's reports will always be excellent, little flower." The voice was silky. Lodestok pulled the boy's head to his chest in such a way it made Bethel fall sideways and sprawl across the powerful Churchik torso. The warlord merely laughed. "Now, my boy, it is late, but then..."
Bethel didn't speak. He just closed his eyes when he saw the warlord push his plates and tankard to the ground and settle himself more firmly onto the bed. When Bethel opened his eyes, they met blue eyes that stared intently down at him. He lay still, watching the fierce grin cross his master's face.
"Your estibe, boy, stays here with me."
"Yes, my lord," mumbled Bethel, giving in to the inevitable. Lodestok's grin broadened.
"Lastly, petal, you will attend Sarssen for whatever additional training he may feel you need." There was a long silence before Lodestok said on a deep chuckle. "You will be very busy, little flower." Bethel went to speak, but couldn't.
~~~
When Bethel finally left the warlord's pavilion, most of the camp was active, food being served very late to warriors. Bethel's stomach gurgled. He was conscious of wanting sustenance yet again, and though he ate very well these days he seldom felt full because he seemed to burn up fuel as soon as he replenished it.
He stood still to get his bearings. With his pavilion, which had been his focus for nearly two cycles, gone, he was disoriented. It was now as if it had never been. The gap it left jolted Bethel. He stared a little blindly and confused. It was Jane who saw him and came forward rather anxiously.
"Lad," he called urgently, his expression as he reached Bethel, grim. "The haskar's been swearing about you for half-an-hour, Beth, and shook Mishak in his efforts to find you. Where've you been?" Bethel's shoulders sank.
"Where do you think?" he asked irritably. Jane studied the young face and his own softened.
"Go to the haskar, Beth, and explain that to him," he said quietly. "I'll wait for you and then show you where we're to live." Bethel looked down into the older man's eyes and smiled ruefully.
"Forgive me, Jane," he murmured. "It is just that I have a dreadful headache and the warlord would not let me go. I am so tired."
"Aye, lad," said Jane, in gentle understanding. "Go now, Beth." He gave the youth a shove and Bethel responded with an acquiescent sigh.
~~~
Bethel entered Bensar's pavilion, to be met by an uncompromising face and an even harsher voice.
"Where have you been, warrior?"
"With my master, my lord. I have just come from him." Bensar studied the very tall, slender youth.
"You are very young, raw, and untried, warrior," he said, with cold indifference. "Your place with the warlord gives you no special privileges. You understand you are still a slave and will be treated as such by many. You will respond suitably, though I hope in time they will treat you merely as another warrior. Do you understand?"
"Clearly, my lord."
"I shall treat you as a warrior and I expect a response from you as one. You are here to be trained, boy, and that is what will happen to you. You will obey me at all times."
"Yes, my lord."
Bensar rose. Bethel flinched slightly because he hadn't been in such close proximity to the warlord's second, other than as a slave creeping forward to fill an out held goblet before he slunk back to a crouch. Bensar was a typical Churchik warrior, very large and extremely formidable, and his expression was unfriendly.
"If a senior warrior tells you to do anything, you jump and do it. You do not argue, or you will be disciplined by me. I do not deal lightly with insubordination, warrior, and seldom have to chastise a warrior more than once." Bethel sensed the threat and hastened to reply.
"I will obey, my lord."
"Wise of you," said Bensar coolly. "Sarssen has orders to take you in hand as well, boy. Should he command you, you come to me and request permission to go to the tempkar. You do not just leave your troop at will." Bethel stood rigidly erect and silent. "Gariok will advise me of the times he wishes to have you. Other than for he or Sarssen, you owe your obedience first to the warlord and then to me." The harsh voice went on. "You step one foot out of line, young warrior, and you will feel the whip just the same as any other."
"My lord," acknowledged Bethel, head respectfully lowered.
"You have one hour to be with your troop." Bensar's head nodded dismissal. As Bethel backed to the pavilion entrance, Bensar said sharply, "Your hair, boy, will always be plaited. I do not wish to see you with flowing mane again. Do not forget you are warrior."
Bethel straightened up outside the pavilion and let his breath go in a whistle of relief. Jane was immediately beside him, an anxious look on his face.
"Well, lad?"
"I am like to find life very hard," Bethel said consideringly. The smile down at Jane wasn't bright. "I am glad you are with me, Jane," he added suddenly, "because I think I would find what is in front of me unbearable otherwise." Jane put a reassuring hand on Bethel's arm.
"You'll find your feet, Beth. Your life's turned upside down again and you don't know where you are. Once we get you settled you'll be fine." Bethel sighed and let Jane lead him forward. "Wait until you see your new dwelling, Beth. That should make you have a laugh!"
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When Kher knocked on Luton's door in the morning he entered to find Luton drowsing on the bed, his black eyes only half-open and lighting on the haskar who carried an armful of clothes.
"Change into these, boy. They are from your master."
There was no expression on the pale face. Luton merely nodded as Kher left his room. Thoughtfully, Luton rose and obediently began to strip, before he walked to the chair and lifted the garments one by one.
Fully dressed he looked striking. The black boots, shirt and tabard emphasised the colour of his hair and eyes, and his crimson cloak, with Blach's symbol emblazoned on its back, swept the ground when he moved. When he surveyed the young man Kher thought, that with his long black curls and cold black eyes, he'd draw all eyes. Luton, he reflected, was an enigma - he bewildered and baffled Kher, though the haskar's feelings for the younger man didn't alter.
Some of Lodestok's trusted warrior overlords, who maintained cruel discipline and effective control across the south, were gathered at Chika to celebrate the fall of the Cartokian kingdom in the north and the warlord's advance into southern Sushi. They'd come from as far east as Cordior and from as far north as the conquered mountain lands of the Dahkilan and Cyrenics. Though Lodestok was north in Ambros, there wasn't one warrior lord present who would consider thwarting his slightest wish, and that included responding with immediate acquiescence to anything the warlord's sorcerer friend may request. Churchik feared little. They did fear sorcery and those with talent, though they weren't averse to using captive healers for their own ends, and they did revere truth-seekers and ever rarer seers who were invariably male.
One of those present was Alleghy, the overlord of Dahkilah, who'd ensured the complete submission of its people, their tribute often wrung from them in blood. He was one of the most powerful men in the south. Like other warriors with families, he brought his wife, eldest son and daughter with him.
Kher arrived at the celebration not long before midsun, because Luton flatly refused to go earlier. Kher's efforts to encourage him met with an icy stare and, eventually, with a flash of fire from long, slender fingers. Kher stood his ground and asked Luton why. The answer in his mind was curt.
"It's not the time. She isn't yet there."
Luton came downstairs when he was ready and went directly outside to mount his horse. Swearing, Kher tossed down his tankard and followed.
If Luton had intended
making an entrance, Kher thought he couldn't have done it better - conversation stopped and heads turned, as one, on Luton's entrance. Kher watched the youth covertly. He saw the black eyes take in the hall in a sweeping glance and he stood still, waiting. When Luton was announced, there were indrawn breaths.
"Luton, apprentice slave of Blach, accompanied by Haskar Kher, Saratquan of Caciqua, Second to Saratquan Lodestok, Warlord of Valshika."
Kher stepped forward quietly, aware of the reaction to Luton, but seeing no response from the young man at all. He bade Luton follow. Obediently, Luton did. He received stares and critical looks of appraisal. Even his height attracted attention. There was no doubt his master knew Luton would look quite different from anybody else and it was a deliberate ploy to dress him thus, because it was as close to haskar attire as could be. That was noted with rigid disapproval and some incredulity.
It was when Kher neared Alleghy that Luton turned to Kher and put his hands to the haskar's temples.
"I've come at the correct time of alignment. This warrior has a daughter. I'll mate with her and wish to do so now. It must be, Kher, it must be! Where is she?"
Kher stared at the young face so close to his and had to swallow hard, twice. He wondered how anyone could so condition Luton that he should react and behave in this way, and, though he knew it had to be the sorcerer, still he wondered if there could be more to this than that.
"Could you leave this to me, boy?" he asked quietly, thinking of the warrior lord's probable reaction. Luton withdrew his hands with a nod and Kher breathed a little more easily. Alleghy surveyed Luton disdainfully.
"Is he a mute that he must communicate that way?"
"Yes," responded Kher coolly. "He is a mute."
"Can he speak to other than you?"
"I have not asked him, Haskar." Alleghy spat.
"He looks a northman. Why is a slave brought amongst us and dressed in such a fashion? It is to insult all of us. He should be flogged for such presumption."
"You forget he is with me and I owe allegiance to the warlord who commands me," responded Kher softly. Alleghy reddened and glared at Luton.
"Do you have power, boy? Has your master taught you that?" He got a cold look that seemed to bore through him, shrugged, ran a hand across his beard and deliberately turned from Luton to Kher. "Does the warlord know of him?"
"I do not know. I imagine if Blach wishes the warlord to know, he will apprise him of Luton's existence."
"I will tell him," growled Alleghy.
"Perhaps that is one reason the boy is here," smiled Kher.
"Why else would he come?"
"He has been sent by the sorcerer to mate. The offspring is to be taken to the Keep." Alleghy coughed, then snarled.
"Who would mate with a northman slave?"
"Your daughter," replied Kher, without any hesitation.
He thought for a moment Alleghy would commit the unforgivable and hit him, or, even worse, strike him dead, nor would he have blamed him. The warrior lord's hand was on his sword. Fury raged in the pale blue eyes that met Kher's and Alleghy nearly choked.
"I have nothing to do with this, Haskar, I promise you," Kher said calmly. He pulled out a sealed billet that he handed to Alleghy who snatched at it.
"What is this?"
"I was told to give it to the father of the boy's choice. The boy has chosen."
Alleghy ripped the billet open and perusing it, the rich colour faded from his cheeks. His voice was hoarse.
"He cannot demand this of me," he whispered. Kher stood impassively when Alleghy swung round to Luton, his pale eyes blazing with loathing and bitter contempt. "You would defile my child? What if she is not willing?" Luton shrugged. "She is barely fifteen cycles, damn you!" exploded Alleghy. Luton made no movement. His eyes just bored into the warrior lord with total indifference. "I shall remember you for this," ground out Alleghy.
"It might be as well for them to meet," suggested Kher, in a politic voice. "He may change his mind."
Alleghy swung from them, anger in every stride that took him to the other side of the hall. There he stood next to a woman who talked with a girl, the girl's hand gently clasped in one of hers. By now there were a goodly number of curious faces close to Kher and Luton.
Luton turned as the girl approached, walking beside her father. Kher saw appraisal in the black eyes, but no tender emotion, and he felt a shiver of revulsion and despair shake him when he looked at the girl, scarcely more than a child. He wondered if the suffering the war brought to so many young would ever stop.
The girl was tall and willowy, her hair loosely long and blond, her eyes large and the Churchik pale blue. She had an engaging smile and an agreeable voice. She curtseyed to Kher and then to Luton. Alleghy put his arm round her in a way that made her look up at him. She looked slight and vulnerable beside such a huge warrior.
"Child, this man asks for you." Alleghy's voice shook with such passion it brought a look of apprehension to the girl's eyes.
"Pater," she said, a quiver in her voice. "I have only come to eletom. Full knowledge does not come for another two seasons, so I am not ready to go to any man."
She glanced briefly at Luton, to see that his eyes glittered down at her in a remote way. Suddenly, she was deeply afraid; at that moment, in the oddest way, she sensed she'd met her destiny, that she'd mate with this strange, alienated youth who stood so coldly in front of her and that she'd have his child. She looked away, shaking.
"You are chosen, Soji. The warlord's wishes cannot be gainsaid," said Alleghy, his voice more under control but the more menacing because of it. Soji shrank close to her father.
"Pater," she whispered, her hand going to her mouth. "Who is he?"
"This is Luton, the mute apprentice of Blach." Soji flinched back, her eyes wide with horror and fear.
"No, Pater, you would not do this to me, I beg of you." Soji clung to her father, but Alleghy pushed her from him abruptly and thrust her at Luton.
"I have no say in the matter, child," he snarled, his eyes meeting Luton's.
Luton looked back down at her when Soji lifted her head - the chill in his eyes froze her and she stood still. When Luton took her hand she whimpered like a weirkit, then, when he looked across at Kher and nodded, Soji hung back, trying to disentangle herself from the strong grip on her hand. Kher understood only too well what was required and turned sharply. Luton gave the hand he held a tug and Soji meekly went with him from the banqueting hall.
~~~
Luton mated often with Soji. Her spirit almost broke when she realised she couldn't relate to Luton in any normal way. She no longer wept or pleaded. She didn't even look up when Kher entered at regular intervals with trays of food. She barely ate. Kher's heart went out to the child he saw lying so still, her face averted and white.
Luton wasn't at all cruel, his technique skilled. He was merely mechanical. At first, when Soji tried to reason with him and struggled, Luton quietly held her down, not ungently, but with enough strength to make her yield. When she failed to reach him, she acquiesced in the same way he did, responding because she was forced to, just as he was, and, finally, like him, detached and without conscious will. As did Luton, she said little, if anything.
The first night, she spoke hesitantly, having not spoken since their meeting. Luton refused to communicate other than in clear body language. Her voice cracked a little.
"Why will you not let me go, Luton?"
Luton lay beside her on the bed, but he sat up at her question and placed his hands at her temples. For the first time she heard his cool, velvety voice in her mind, surprised it was so deep because the youth wasn't physically large-built like her family.
"You haven't yet conceived."
Shock held her speechless. She swallowed with difficulty, staring up into the empty, dark eyes that looked directly down at her.
"Gods," she managed to whisper. "Is that your only reason for being here?"
"That's why the master sent me sout
h, yes."
"So you will keep me with you, like this, until I do?"
"Yes, that's so."
"What if I do not?"
"You will. My master doesn't fail." Soji continued to stare into the sculpted face.
"Are you now a sorcerer, too?"
"No. I'm a slave and I belong to Blach. I must do his bidding in all things."
"And if you do not?"
"I merit severe punishment. It's such I don't court it. I obey in all ways." Soji swallowed hard again, mesmerised by the large black eyes.
"Have you no feelings, Luton, about what you do?"
"No."
"Do you experience anything at all?"
"No."
"Even as you lie with me?"
"I get nothing from our mating." Soji blinked back tears.
"Why does your master want our child?"
"I don't know. A slave isn't told such things."
"Our people enslaved you, Luton, did they not?" Luton's hands moved slightly.
"I'm from the Keep. I know nothing else."
"Can you not try to care a little for me?" came the sad, desperate plea.
"I don't understand what you ask," responded Luton, taking his hands from her temples and hauling himself upright. Soji understood his body language as if she'd been with him for cycles and knew what he wanted. She closed her eyes. They did not communicate again.
The next morning Soji awoke from a restless, tormented doze and turned her head, expecting to see Luton lounge beside her. Instead, she saw him stand tall and dark, remote as ever, at the window, fully clad. Soji felt tears slide down her face. She made no effort to brush them away.
"Is it done then, Luton?"
Luton turned, his dark eyes scanning her. He sat beside her and when he placed his hands on her head, she noticed they trembled and the young face close to hers was wan and very strained.
"It's done. You'll have a daughter." Luton touched her cheek, his finger licking the moisture. "What's this?"
"I am crying," whispered Soji. "We cry when we are hurt or in pain."
"Are you in pain? Are you hurt?" Soji tried to turn her head, but Luton's hands kept her still. When the questions were repeated, she stared up at Luton sadly.
"Yes."
"Have I caused this hurt and pain?"
"Yes, Luton, you have."