exchanged.
Diandra interpreted.
“I care nothing of women singing.” That was Dortak.
“You care nothing of women.” That was Bohtan with a jerk of his head to Dortak’s wife.
“Caution, Bohtan,” some other warrior said.
“Yes, caution, Bohtan. My wife is not your concern,” Dortak warned.
“You’re right. Your wife wouldn’t be my concern. But I’m not talking about your wife. I’m talking about your dog. You’ve made your wife your pet. Do you like to thrust your cock into animals, Dortak?” Bohtan returned and I pressed my lips together because those were fighting words in my world so I was guessing amongst The Horde they were serious fighting words.
Bohtan went on. “Do not answer that, I know you do. This could not be missed considering you rarely miss an opportunity to show us what a warrior you are by thrusting your cock into in any hole your animal provides.”
“My bride is none of your concern!” Dortak shouted, yanking on her chain again.
“But she isn’t your bride!” Bohtan shot back, having made it to Dortak, he leaned in dangerously. “She’s nothing but an animal you’ve brought to heel. You sully The Horde with your actions, thrusting into her face at the games, challenging our Dax while armed, disrespecting our queen in front of our king.”
Diandra gasped at Dortak’s reply and I knew not only by her gasp but the fact the air went still that something very, very bad had happened.
A glance showed she’d gone pale and I whispered urgently, “What?”
She didn’t tear her eyes off what was happening when she whispered back. “Dortak said, ‘I care not for our queen or a king whose new wife rides so soon after the claiming. The yellow one has had his cock two weeks and she’s leading him around by it. Our king is the one who has come to heel.’” Her eyes slid to Lahn and she finished, “That is a challenge.”
Oh shit.
My eyes moved to Lahn too. He was surveying the scene with his arms crossed on his chest and an expression on his face that stated clearly he found it mildly interesting. But only mildly.
“You challenge the Dax?” Diandra interpreted what a warrior standing with Lahn called to Dortak.
“What Dax?” Dortak spit the words then he spit into the ground in Lahn’s direction. “I see no Dax.”
Finally, Lahn spoke and he did this mildly too.
“I advise you stop taking your fists and your cock to your bride, Dortak, so you can heal. I want you fit before I bring you to your knees and take your head.”
“I claim the Dax,” Dortak shot back, “the first thing I do is thrust my cock into the yellow one, spilling my seed until it leaks out of every orifice in her body.”
I sucked in breath but Lahn grinned and I stared at his reaction in shock.
Then Diandra gasped again but quickly translated Lahn’s words, “You take my head, the Gods would weep because the world is falling from the sky. You get near my tigress, she’ll sink her claws in you and you’ll be looking at your innards spilling out before your last breath escapes your body.” Diandra looked at me. “This is a grave insult to any warrior, my dear, to infer a woman could best him.”
It would be a grave insult to anyone. Still, it was a pretty awesome comeback.
Diandra started translating again as Dortak spat, “The yellow one owns your cock!”
To this, Lahn returned, “You speak truth and I’m glad of it, she knows what to do with it and she likes what she knows how to do. While I was driving it inside her last night, my queen gasped that she loved my cock right before I planted my seed in her womb, seed that might make a warrior, seed that’s already more warrior than you.”
“Holy crap,” I whispered. That was a good comeback too, perhaps a little on the personal side, but a good one.
“I don’t even know what that means and I’ll say you can say that again,” Narinda whispered.
Diandra translated Dortak shouting, “I take your head tomorrow!”
To which Lahn replied, “No, I want you fit before we toss your headless carcass on the pyre. You’ve got two weeks, Dortak. Then our steel clashes.”
Dortak glared at Lahn a second before he swung his angry gaze to Bohtan who was still close.
Diandra interpreted. “Before I claim the Dax, you,” and he jerked a finger at Bohtan, “watch yourself and keep your mind off my bride.”
“You,” Bohtan returned, “treat her like a bride and I will. You keep treating her like a dog I’ll be forced to put her down like one to put her out of her misery.”
I pulled in breath at Bohtan’s words (words I hoped he didn’t mean) as Dortak’s face got so red I thought his head would explode then Lahn entered the conversation.
“Bohtan, enough, your point is made.”
The king spoke so Bohtan took a step back but his eyes didn’t unlock from Dortak.
Then Diandra translated Bohtan saying, “After the Dax cuts your tail from your lifeless head and it falls from his saddle, I will be the first to seize it and present it to your bride as my wedding gift.”
Then he turned and walked away, his eyes coming to me briefly before he bowed his head for a second and then he stormed out of sight.
“What’s a tail?” Narinda asked softly while I tried to catch my breath but instead caught my husband’s eyes.
“It is their hair.” I heard Diandra answer. “After a challenge, the victor ties the head of the vanquished to his saddle and rides through the Daxshee. When he’s done celebrating, however long that takes, he releases the head from his saddle by slicing it off at their tail. After that, the head is at the mercy of whoever grabs it, they can do whatever they wish with it and the warrior’s body is burned headless on his pyre. It is important to anyone to have their pyre so their ashes can drift to the heavens, body joining spirit. The Korwahk, Maroo, any person from the Southlands has this same belief and any body not fired is thought to roam this realm as an unseen, unheard, powerless phantom. Not burning the head is a final indignity for a warrior’s defeat for they will wander eternity headless, a reminder of their humiliation.”
I was listening but I was also, weirdly, communicating with my husband. As Diandra talked, his eyes stayed on mine then he jerked his chin up, slightly, once. I knew he meant to ask if I was all right so I nodded. Once I did, he turned away.
And that was when I remembered I had the boy’s instrument, my body jerked and then I turned to him and smiled, offering it up to him and saying, “Shahsha.” Boy and mother were both clearly shaken by the events that took place and he swiftly took it back as I asked Diandra to tell him to come see me again, with his instrument, so we could play and sing together. The mother’s face beamed but the boy looked like he wanted to do this about as much as he wanted to be forced to run naked through the Daxshee with his hair on fire. So I decided when he came, I would play and he could take off and have fun with his friends.
They wandered away as Narinda asked, “Do these… erm, confrontations amongst warriors happen often?”
“No, sweet Narinda, it happens, they are men, so it is bound to. But it isn’t frequent. Though Dortak is not a favorite of anyone and I have seen warriors get impatient with him or he says things that force them to have words. Bohtan is a good man, a good father, Seerim says he is a good warrior. He and Nahka didn’t leave their cham for nearly two weeks after her claiming; he was that taken with her. The Horde rode after the selection, leaving them behind. He is a good husband and cares for his wife.” Diandra smiled gently at Narinda, a smile that spoke volumes about the warrior who had claimed her. “There are some men, no matter what blood flows in their veins or what teachings were drilled in their heads, who are just good men.”
Narinda smiled back and there was nothing small or weird about it.
Gaal came forward and set a plate of candied fruits on our hides. I smiled at her and she smiled back then scuttled away.
I watched her go thinking that Teetru was a little distant because she was older, she seemed to take her duties very seriously and I’d learned yesterday that part of her duties were keeping an eye on me. But Jacanda, Beetus and Packa were younger, friendlier and more talkative. As the days passed, even Packa was coming out of her timidity and becoming more outgoing. Our conversation was halting but, even with Teetru, I felt like we were
