Gifted To The Dragon King

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Gifted To The Dragon King Page 3

by Hollie Hutchins


  The Dragon King's Palace.

  Day One.

  I have been gifted, as a concubine, to the local leader, known as the Dragon King. He is the king of what seems to be quite a multicultural kingdom. What's interesting is that he also apparently wants me to fill the role of some kind of ambassador. He told me about some people called 'Onoatiga' who are meant to pick a wife for his arranged marriage. He says it's to keep his bloodline pure..."

  Chapter 3: Ambassador

  Ria woke with the shock of her ankle bracelet against her skin. The chaotic disarray of the bedcovers told her she had physically responded to the nightmares she had suffered that night, as did the ache in her neck.

  A voice filtered through the intercom to her still sleep-fogged brain. "Breakfast is served in the Concubine's Garden, my lady." The soporific tones of the butler did little to promote mental alertness. Ria wished they had given the place a different name. She didn't want to be constantly reminded of her less than glamorous job description.

  "Am I going to be able to lose this horrible tracking bracelet any time soon?" Ria grumbled and then inwardly cursed her thoughtlessness. What if that was seen as a sign of a 'rebellious concubine'?

  "Once you have proved your loyalty, my lady, you shall be relieved of the tracking bracelet. I have orders to show you around the palace before lunch. Your cooperation shall be greatly appreciated."

  Ria shot out of the bed like a rocket. A guided tour of the palace? Jumping Jiminy Cricket! Just what she needed to plan her escape!

  "I'll be at that breakfast table before you can say NASA!"

  "I beg your pardon, my lady? I'm not sure I under—"

  "Nevermind, it's just a saying from my planet. I'll be ready in a few minutes. Thank you!"

  She heard the swish of his tail on the igneous floor as the butler moved off to his next tedious job.

  By the time she reached the breakfast table, it was almost cleared, and the other concubines had wandered off to while away their idle hours. The Matron who had called her to be stripped and scrubbed stood at the head of the long, low table, looking at her with an I'm-waiting-because-of-you expression, but she decided to ignore it.

  Now was the moment to test out those brain implants that were supposed to help her body deal with the foreign food. It seemed unlikely to her that the electronic could influence the physiological to such an extent, but it was kind of exciting being the guinea pig in the experiment. She only wished there was someone there to share it with her, someone who would understand the physiological and scientific ins and outs of the whole situation.

  Sarah would have loved this. She could imagine her inspecting all the unnatural looking wares and closing her eyes to better sense their effect on her digestive system. Ria picked up something that looked like a cinnamon bun, about the only thing there that resembled anything earthly. She sniffed at it, but it didn't have much of a fragrance, so she gingerly bit into it, distrusting, but driven by hunger. She had refused food the previous night, pleading nausea as a result of her implants.

  At first, the taste was bitter, almost sour, and she had to stop herself from gagging and spitting the mouthful out. She felt the eyes of the watchful Matron boring into her.

  Then the taste of something like mango began to fill her mouth. Perhaps the chips were syncing with her brainwaves and translating the information from her taste buds to make it a pleasant experience. She swallowed and took another bite. There was no bitter taste at all this time. Ria poured a cup of lukewarm spice tea that smelled remarkably like the stuff they had bathed her in.

  Again, it was bitter rancid to her taste but then turned to a delicious honey chai flavour before she had drank half the cup. These aliens were onto something, she thought, imagining similar technology that could make Brussels sprouts taste good to babies on Earth. She would make a killing with a patent like that!

  Deciding not to consume too many different delicacies and put her new-fangled software under too much pressure, she tried only one more dish which tasted like bacon but looked like green scrambled eggs. She couldn't help wondering if Dr Seuss had been a secret space traveller.

  "B5279, the butler awaits," the curt voice of the Matron cut into her musings.

  Sure enough, the lizard man stood just outside the doorway, his five-cornered hat perked rakishly on his head, his deadpan expression becoming almost a beloved familiarity to Ria.

  She bounded down the pebbled pathway to join her tour guide, suddenly overcome with exuberance. She knew it had to do with the fact that she was about to go on her most unusual reconnaissance mission ever, in the most outrageous camouflage ever.

  The butler remained unmoved by her boisterous spirits, in fact, they didn't even make a dent in his sombre visage. He inclined his head, and then led her along the first of the labyrinth of passages, showing her into each room.

  "Here is the ballroom," he said," as a larger than usual door opened up into a breathtakingly beautiful hall.

  The walls were hanging gardens and misty waterfalls caressed by streams of sunlight coming in from what appeared to be an open roof. Ria could see two suns shining in the lavender coloured sky, the one half the size of the other.

  So, dancing was part of the Dragon King's culture? Ria was struck by how this race's technology and cultural sophistication was so vastly different from their manners and physical treatment of strangers.

  "Why did you stop calling me concubine and start calling me, 'My lady'?" she asked the butler abruptly.

  "Because the king has accepted you not only for harem purposes but also for diplomatic purposes, my lady." His response was matter-of-fact.

  "But how did you know that so quickly? " she said, thinking that he had in fact overheard her conversation with the king.

  "The king gave me the signal to that effect when you left his chambers. Now we must proceed." These lizards were a race of few words.

  There was a dizzying array of rooms and levels, each one with its specific purpose and function, but the one Ria enjoyed the most was the Royal Laboratory, as the butler called it, informing her that it would be the last stop of her private tour. Staring around her, her mind both reeled and rejoiced at the seemingly endless variety of gadgets, equipment and alien substances undergoing tests in glass-like cases.

  There were three scientists working in the vast area that seemed to cover one entire floor of the palace. Ria could hardly contain her excitement as she rushed from one display cabinet to the next, gawking at unfamiliar tech, and trying to figure out its function. She was in NASA heaven and she hoped there was a chance she would be able to come back here at some point. There was no way she was going to be able to remember and document all that her eyes were taking in.

  The three scientists seemed very focused on their work, but one of them noticed Ria's feverish enthusiasm and she walked over to her. She looked the same as the Matron, except her scales seemed a deeper orange than the Matron's, as were her two fellow scientists'.

  "You're very excited about all this," she said, "What's your interest?" Her tone was as curt as the Matron's but something in her eyes made Ria feel like this dragon shapeshifter was more approachable. She decided to introduce herself.

  "Hi! I'm B5279!" she said, holding out her hand and beaming. The scientist ignored her outstretched hand.

  "I am Nirda, and I'm sure B5279 isn't your name. That's your prisoner number, which I am already familiar with. So, what is your name? Or are you worried we won't like you because of what planet you come from?"

  The alien's forthrightness caught Ria off guard, but at the same time served to kick in her information gathering instincts.

  "You have racism here, too?" she asked, avoiding the question regarding her name.

  "I believe it's a universal problem in every sense of the word," the scientist named Nirda turned away, going back to her work. Ria tagged along behind her, bursting to know more and relishing the fact that she had found a mind she could converse with.

  "S
o, B5279, since you refuse to tell me your name, I am forced to address you by your prisoner number. Though I do suggest you give the king some other name to call you by, even if it's made up. He generally doesn't like to refer to his bed mates as numbers."

  Ria felt a slight sting of contempt in Nirda's words but decided to ignore it. This was a blossoming friendship she would take any abuse in, if it meant she could have frequent access to this wonderful room.

  "You will now have two more chips implanted that will give you access to memories you do not currently have. When you look at a certain race, your brain will automatically access the memories pertaining to that specific race regarding their history and culture."

  Ria's jaw hung open. It felt like a dream come true and she forgot herself a little, which was becoming a worrying habit, "Are you serious? This is amazingly, stupendously the best thing ever!"

  Nirda looked at her curiously and Ria wasn't sure if it was because she had gushed about what was evidently a routine procedure in this multi-cultural, high-tech society, or if she pitied her for never having been exposed to such technology. The scientist dragon went back to preparing the syringe gun-like contraption that Ria had come to recognise as the implant device.

  "Take it easy on the memory retrieval, to begin with," Nirda went on, "Since you are an inferior race, you will need to wait at least four months before considering adding any more cerebral chips, and it may take your brain some time to adjust to this new tech. We don't want it going into overload and meltdown. One silly concubine went around looking for as many different races as she could to access their memories and ended up frying her circuits and giving herself an aneurysm."

  "Wow..." Ria wondered if it was true or just a scare tactic. She wasn't about to find out the hard way, though.

  Nirda grabbed Ria's head, without warning, as was Draconian custom, and exposed the base of her skull, pressing the gun against it. She shifted it a few times as if checking for the best place to insert the hardware, and Ria braced herself for the stinging, searing pain.

  It did not disappoint. She bit on her lip, not wanting to further diminish her alien counterpart's impression of her and her 'inferior race'. The pain seemed to travel through her entire body for a few seconds, and then, as quickly as it came, it left. She took a deep breath and stood erect again as Nirda released her.

  "My lady, we must return to the Concubine's Garden. The king will be taking lunch with his harem to welcome you," the butler's voice emanated from the doorway where he had been watching the whole encounter.

  "Sure," Ria suddenly wanted to get away. She needed to process everything she had just experienced, literally and figuratively. She just had one more question for her alien counterpart, "Have you had others of my race here before?"

  Nirda's face almost seemed to crack into a smile. "No, but we have been watching your planet for millennia. You are fairly technologically advanced and have been making great strides recently. But you are an impetuous, emotional, selfish race, and we have refrained from interaction with you for that reason. You have polluted your own planet almost to death. What's to stop you from polluting ours?"

  Ria stared at her, wanting to contradict her, but knowing that what she said was painfully true of too many of her race of Earthlings. The state of their planet was testament enough of that. The very reason she had ended up here was that her race had steadily and thoughtlessly made their own planet uninhabitable.

  The butler heaved a sigh from the doorway, "My lady? Please? The king does not take kindly to tardiness."

  "He's right," Nirda nodded towards the doorway and the waiting butler. "Best be off with you."

  Ria moved towards the door, a dull headache and that strange itchiness reminding her of her fresh implants. "Oh, and B5279," Nirda said, just as Ria reached the doorway, "try not to get hit by lightning."

  "Thanks," Ria shot back, "I'll be sure not to wear my lightning rod headdress while I'm here." She winked.

  "Oh, and by the way," throwing caution to the wind, she left one last parting remark before she disappeared down the hallway, "The name's Ria. Ria Gallagher. Lieutenant Astronaut, Mars Mission Alpha Zero, NASA."

  * * *

  Ria sat with her eyes downcast, trying not to look at the other concubines too closely. Nirda's warning of the concubine who had caused her own aneurysm was still echoing in her mind. From the cursory glances that she gave them out of pure respect, it was plain to see they were all a little jaded.

  Apparently, life as a concubine to the Dragon King was not as idyllic as some fantasy gorging, Earthling movie buffs might like to imagine. Although their outward appearances differed vastly and seemed to incorporate every possible contortion of humanoid anatomy one could think of, they all housed the same set of emotions and basic psychological needs as she did.

  "Welcome, Ria! I hope you will be happy here. Let me know if there is anything I can help you with," a soft voice next to her piped up as she sat down after introducing herself to the group at the king's prompting. Ria looked at the owner of the voice and her heart went out to her.

  She was a strange octopus-like being, with a humanoid torso and bulbous head, and multiple tentacles where there would usually have been arms and legs.

  Ria remembered her mother wishing she had more sets of arms, and made a mental note to tell her to scratch that off her wish list when she got back to Earth one day.

  "Why, thank you, uhhmm..."

  "Octavia," the gentle voice introduced itself. Ria had to hold back a giggle at her new companion's apt name, but it wasn't too difficult. The look in the alien girl's eyes was profoundly sad. Ria wondered what such a forlorn being could possibly help her with. She looked like she needed help herself. Of the psychiatric variety.

  "I hope you're not thinking of trying to become the king's favourite," another voiced sniped from across the banqueting table, which was loaded with all the unfamiliar fare of the breakfast, and more. A belligerent glare burned into Ria as she found the speaker diagonally across from her, a furry, bear-like creature who, thankfully, had apparently had her Wolverine claws removed. Probably for the king's safety.

  "Oh, shut up, Narsia," yet another voice interjected, "The king doesn't have favourites. It's your imagination."

  Narsia hissed at the concubine who had contradicted her. She was a lizard-like being, like the butler, except her scales, held an orange and brown tinge to his green. Her forked tongue flickered in and out as she said to Ria, "Don't you worry about her, she has delusions of favouritism just to help her survive the shame of being a concubine."

  "Hush, Gordlin! The king treats us all very well! We have no need to feel ashamed!" A blubbery, pasty-faced, three-eyed woman who reminded Ria of Collector Hargoid, took control of the situation. There was no way of knowing for sure how the aliens showed aging physically, but by her manner, she appeared to be the oldest of the king's fourteen concubines.

  "I'm Goidel," she introduced herself. "My brother, Collector Hargoid, presented me as a gift to the king when our parents died. He thought it would be the safest place for me. Giving a gift to the king was also the only way he would be able to make a living in the trading world."

  Her face expressed the same sadness that hung around Octavia, but there was more of an air of jaded resignation mixed in with it.

  "I was presented as a gift to the king when my planet was conquered, and the captain of the king's forces decided I would make a nice trophy," Octavia said in her soft, sad voice. Ria wondered if she was capable of expressing emotions like anger, frustration, rebellion.

  It was also strange to her that they were all speaking so freely about their situation, within earshot of the king. She watched him, looking for a tell-tale sign of irritation, anger, anything to show that what they said bothered him, but his face was expressionless. He made small talk with the concubines who had the fortune, or misfortune, of being seated closest to him and went on enjoying his meal, ingesting huge chunks of gravy-laden, greyish coloured flesh
that Ria hoped was from an animal of some kind and not a rebellious, late, concubine.

  She picked at her food, listening to the chit chat of the women and watching two more bear-like creatures at the far end of the table. They ate in silence, not once looking up, not once smiling at Gordlin's crude jokes that Ria could only understand because of her newly implanted chips.

  She glanced at the Dragon King again, watching his detached manner and wondering if he got some kind of weird kick out of all the different anatomies he could use to satisfy his libido, or if it was simply a status symbol to have such an exotic variety of concubines. The one sitting closest to him reminded Ria of the alien that Collector Hargoid had compared to a Vargillon.

  She looked like a body-builder and had the head of an ox set on her thick, sinewy neck. In fact, she was so buff, Ria had mistaken her for a bodyguard until she introduced herself as one of the harem. Her voice had been an oxymoron of softness compared to her brawny physique. And even her eyes conveyed the same sad emptiness Ria saw in all the others'.

  Every one of these women was either morosely resigned to their fate, or bitterly kicking against the goads of their circumstances. None of them felt like they belonged or were loved, that was obvious. Ria had never spared much thought to polygamous marriages even, never mind concubines and what life must be like for a bunch of women all living under one roof and sleeping with the same man.

  Now she was in the middle of such a situation with no way of knowing how to deal with it. A wave of self-pity and despair washed over her suddenly.

  What if NASA never found her? Would she end up like all these other glorified prostitutes? Was her role as ambassador enough to save her sanity from her loveless, sex slave situation?

  The king's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Alright, we are done here. You may return to your chambers or relax in the garden for the rest of the day." The relief on the women's faces was plain to see. "Except you, B52... I mean, Ria. You will come with me. We have some business to attend to."

 

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