“Gods’s blood but look at these idiots smile and act like all is well when we are celebrating the day of the great dragon massacre.”
All over Arlankis was celebration and festivity as everybody, man, woman, children, and babies, excitedly got ready to celebrate the day of the Dragon, a day celebrated to mark the liberation of men from dragons. Banners and colorful clothes hung on pieces of ropes were strung high in decoration on the streets. Clothes had been cut and tied in strips to form ferocious dragons hanging off ropes strung to buildings and little children poked at the dragons with sticks. The market echoed with the sounds of the smiths’ hammers as they beat metal into swords and daggers for the knights who would participate in the week-long display of strength during the celebration, reenacting notable battles during the Great War. Surcoats, chain mails, and armour were made and old ones were repaired. It was the biggest celebration in all of Arlankis regardless of division. Well, it was the most important for the higher caliber of Arlankis but it wasn’t for the lowly slaves. And these slaves were known as Baryns.
There was another division in Arlankis known as the Sefers. They were formerly Baryns but betraying their kin earned them Sefers status. They were above the Baryns and only slightly below the Arlankis.
A chuckle rang out softly. “Mare, do we have a choice? If we do not pretend to be happy what would you have us do?”
“Kill the king,” Mare said vehemently. She was seven and ten and her brown eyes flashed gold flecks. “Take the throne and bring the new dawn.”
“If it were that easy,” her companion said.
She turned from the sight of the festivities around them to give him a cold glare. “It is possible. Tonight will see that happen. With you on our side, we will never lose, Veren.”
Veren cluck his tongue at her. “Lower your voice or the plan just might not work!”
“Leave Mare be. She is right,” another voice with them said. It was the last friend, Llod. “Tonight when the festivities begin we hatch our plan.”
Though all three friends were of the same age, Mare was the assumed leader for her hotheadedness. She was more famous than the other two as she got into a lot of trouble more than they did. But she looked up to Veren because he was the biggest among them, his shoulders were filled out, as was his chest. He was also the tallest but he spoke the least.
The third person however though tall was nowhere as handsome or wise as Veren and he went with whatever Mare did so he got into a lot of trouble too.
“I wish I had your confidence,” Veren muttered under his breath.
Mare continued to glare. “What does that mean?”
He simply shrugged and waved off her question. “Tonight we kill the king.”
In the shade in which they stayed sitting apart from the crowd, there was a sudden movement and all three friends jolted, looking back to see their worst enemy; Polen Angrip.
He wasn’t dressed in their simple thread-bare woolen tunic instead he wore a fine soft cotton tunic and a scarlet robe even though the sun was high in the sky.
With dark eyes and dark Baryn good looks, he stretched his lips into an evil smile, one that was only heightened by the faint scar running from his cheek to his neck. He was no older than the three friends. On his robe was pinned a gold seal; a dagger with thorns curving up the short blade. It was a sign that differentiated Sefers from Baryn even though they shared the same physical dark looks.
“Are slaves not supposed to be on the fields working or serving their betters?” he snared.
Mare grimaced at him as her eyes dropped to the emblem on his robe. “Are traitors not supposed to be hanging for their crimes? What do you want now Polen? Have you come to betray more of your kind?”
“You still have that mouth on you, Foal.”
It was a name he called her to insult her for her given name which was similar to a horse’s.
A knight was coming toward them with a scowl on his face as he beheld them sitting instead of working like the rest of the Baryns.
“We should join the others,” Veren said as he started to rise. Polen put a hand on his shoulder with a very pleased look on his face.
“Let me show you the power you get when you betray your kind,” he said a few moments before the knight was upon them.
“Baryns,” he sneered. “Why do you sit idle?” his hand was already reaching for the leather whip on his waist.
“Halt!” Polen ordered coming out of the shadows of the shade. “They are with me.”
The knight took one look at the seal on his robe his lips still curled in disgust but he had no choice but to nod and walk away from them.
Polen turned to the others and gave them a triumphant smile. “The power you yield when you are no longer Baryn.”
“You delude yourself, scum,” Mare said as she rose to her feet and gave a mock bow to him. “If you please, my lord, we slaves must be joining our kinds to prepare for the festivities.”
Before she could take a step his hand reached out to grab her arm. “Where is your gratitude?”
“Find it in the grave of the many Baryns your father and the rest of your family killed.”
He jerked her arm so that she was standing so close to him and his breath fell on her face. She raised her arm to hit him but Veren held her hand back knowing that the punishment for that would be severe. Polen gave her a triumphant smile.
“You will be my bride, Mare and you will breed me children like mere women like you are supposed to.”
She spat in his face. “Over my dead body,” she said as she jerked her hand off his grip. As she turned to go her worn veil fell off her head to reveal her long, black, glossy hair.
Polen reached out and grabbed a handful to yank her back. Pain shot through her head but she ground her teeth. She would not give him the satisfaction of letting him know how much it hurt.
While Llod cowered Veren gripped Polen’s wrist and staring into his eyes said in a low voice, “Leave her alone,” he said.
As Polen’s hand dropped to his side blood spurted out of Veren’s nose causing Mare to forget her pain for a second as she hurried to press her veil to his nose the stop the bleeding.
“I am fine,” he mumbled into her veil. Looking at Polen he said in a much softer voice, “Leave us be and go your way.” More blood spurted out of his nose turning Mare’s veil a dull shade of red.
Polen walked off with a snare, making a rude gesture at Mare as he did.
“My father will pay a huge sum to make you my bride.”
“Because no other woman will suffer your horrible presence unless they are bought,” she said under her breath. When Veren groaned she turned to him with concern. “You still bleed?” she asked.
“From time to time. Come,” he dropped her veil from his nose and placed the unsoiled part of it back to cover her hair. “Forget about me, let’s go make preparations for the night. Better to execute your plans today before the heat of the festivities prevents it.”
Night had fallen but the city was awash with lights. A large crowd poured out into the streets holding fires covered in dyed clothes so that they displayed dull red, blue, green, and yellow colors. The crowd trooped to the castle outside which was the open ground for the celebrations. Within the crowd moved a body with a black oversized cloak around its bony shoulders, covering its frayed trousers. He kept his head down and held on to the satchel on his waist as he weaved his way through the crowd. He was of average height and build, quick and light on his feet.By the time he got to the clearing where tents were pitched and different festive dances were going on around fires, he raised his hand to pull the hood of his cloak back slightly and gazed at the king’s castle with bright brown eyes. Huge, intimidating, and foreboding in sight and size. For a moment the boy knew a moment’s panic but in the next breath, he frowned, squared his shoulders, and continued to make his way. Behind t
“It’s all my fault. If I had gone alone, if I had planned all this alone I would have succeeded.” Llod drew in the fluid running down his nose in one long sniff. Wiping his grimy wrist under his nose he cast Mare an accusing glare, “Yes it is all your fault.” They sat in darkness bound in chains on the cold dungeon floor. “If I had been more careful. I should have snuck in better.” “If you had not involved me in this I would have a small sack of roasted nuts in my hands now, dancing around a fire celebrating with everyone else.” Llod could almost taste the nuts he spoke of. He sniffed again and wiped his eyes, smearing the grim from the dirty floor on his dark cheeks. “You are right, Llod,” Mare said without a hint of her usual fire. She was not defeated because she did not have the king’s head, she was defeated because the sounds of Llod’s cries as the guards beat them mercilessly still rang out in her ears. Her back hurt from the beatings, and Veren’s eyes were swollen but it wa
Silence like death came upon everyone in the inner bailey and outside the castle. Llod’s pitiful weeping broke the silence as they waited for the king’s order to have the soldiers lead them to the city gates to the blocks where they would lay their heads and be executed. “Better, stronger men - and the fucking gods have tried to strike me dead. What they could not achieve do you think three young, scrawny boys would?! You Baryns cannot grasp your place as slaves in my kingdom. Perhaps,” Vallezarii said as he hooked his thumb and index finger under his chin to assume a thinking expression. “I have been too merciful in my dealings with you. Letting you live was my mistake.” A ripple of fear went through the Baryns as every remnant of joy that had been etched in their faces while they danced just a few moments earlier was replaced with fear. “Tonight,” Vallezarii raised his hands and bellowed. “Death to all Baryns tonight.” Wails immediately rang through the air as the judgment fell
The king’s concubine.In her honored naked state, the rest of the festivities passed Mare in a blur. Every event, the flowing wine, the never-ending platter of food, the never-ending beat of the drums, and the sound of the horns. She remembered standing beside the king’s seat looking out as the days bled into days.She remembered the king’s command to his eunuchs to get her started on a beauty treatment. She remembered fighting off the courtesan beautician, a eunuch named Hegi. She remembered the feel of his flesh under her nails when she scratched his face, the warmth of his blood on her hand. She remembered the sting of the king’s hand across her cheek and the cold press of a sword on her neck for her defiance.“Break her if you must but when the beauty treatment is done I want a sublime concubine, not this wild cat!” Vallezarii commanded the eunuch who, glaring at Mare, grabbed her and shoved her roughly through the place halls to the West wing of the castle where she would be kept
Mare’s head snapped forward at the weight of the collar. Dazed and confused yet she didn't miss the line of chains that was attached to the back of the metal collar and when he pulled, her head snapped back until she was looking into his cruel face. His eyes were cruel icy blue slits, his nose broad and though the lower half of his face was half hidden by his light brown beard she could see the mean slit of his lips, lips that turned up at the corners into a cruel smile as he tugged at the chains.Rows of blunt ridges lined the inside of the collar, pressing against the delicate flesh of her neck.She coughed and choked. The metal collar was so tight she could barely breathe.Vallezarii’s hot breath fell heavily on her face as his eyes took in the sudden fear in her eyes. No matter how much she tried she couldn’t conceal the fear. She had not expected that he was going to put her in chains.He laughed. “You did not think for a moment that I would not consider your hotheadedness? These
An anguished cry tore out of her throat as pain seared the lower part of her belly. Her maidenhead gave way with a burning sensation. He is going to kill me, she thought. Hegi had taught her all that the king would do once she officially became his concubine. As someone with no experience in the matter at all, he had only informed her based on the stories he heard from the knights when they boasted about their sexual conquests. What little he could garner from the women serving as servants made him offer her conflicting lessons about the act of sexual relations. But none of the stories he told her warned her of the immense pain. Vallezarii didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. Even if he did, Mare did not delude herself into thinking that he would stop for her sake and ask if she found comfort in it. If anything he would seek to hurt her more and she would not give him that satisfaction of knowing that his intrusion into her body ached like hell's fork in her back. So she bit her b
Dymas Milelot. He pledged his loyalty to his king and for his king, he slit numerous throats. He was known for his mighty conquests before the age of thirty but before then…he couldn’t remember his less-than-stellar childhood. He chose to forget a past when he had been a weakling. All that Veren knew about his new master was that he commanded the Arlankis army with an iron fist. It was one of the reasons he was so respected and also one of the reasons he was so feared and hated by the other soldiers. Even by the king’s court. No one understood him, no one spoke to him unless absolutely necessary. He was a man of few words. Large, tall and muscled. But he had not always been so. Dymas had been born a weak, scrawny child with feminine beauty. He had a head of dark blonde hair, pale blue eyes, and the face of what his mother called an angel. She always said he should have been born a girl and so did his father but the latter was not an endearing statement. His predicament was made even
Mare stared up at the ceiling thoughtlessly.Whatever balm Hegi used was effective indeed. She could barely feel a thing in her loins. When she drew her legs close to peer at the damage done her brows furrowed at the injuries that marred the top and bottom of her thighs. The inner part of her thighs had purple bruises and stitches. Sighing she drew her legs down and covered herself with the bed covers, laying there for a few moments more until the early dawn aged into a clear, sunny day.As the rays of sun seeped through the curtains, she instinctively followed said rays with her gaze until she was looking at the doors of her chamber. It was open a crack.“Someone stood there last night,” she muttered to herself.She hadn’t expected anyone to be in the room with her but when a voice suddenly said, “Who?” she nearly jumped out of her skin.Hegi came round the side of her bed as she lifted herself on her elbow to frown at him. She had thought he left her the night before. Was he the one