Abased - The Exiled Warrior

Chapter 9.1 - Duties

The clan cook held out a large tray of venison for Shaleh to take.

“Don’t drop it.”

“How can I carry it when my arms and feet are shackeled?” Shaleh asked.

“By being very careful.”

The cook and other Astaevka clanspeople, carrying bowls and platters of food, started walking towards the chieftain’s tent. Shaleh slowly followed them, pivoting back and forth. All the other kitchen helpers had deposited their food in the tent and left by the time Shaleh reached it. Even then the tent guards had to hold the tray for her while she attempted to step through the tent flap without falling.

Inside, people had already started eating. As she shuffled over to the nearest table to deposit the meat she looked around carefully. The twenty people or so people were tearing piece of bread and grabbing slices of meat. Rustam and Taisha sat at the head of the tables. To their right, in the seat of honour, sat Leige Marext. Beside him was Gretch, behind him was the slave boy. The others around the low tables were mostly unknown to her. Some she recognised from Clanmeet, but she did not know any of them well. They looked like elders and key warriors of the clan.

She placed the tray of meat next to an elderly woman and turned to leave.

“Slave!” Rustam’s voice erupted. “Pour us water.”

The boy behind Liege Marext stepped forward to fulfil the instruction.

“No, not you,” Rustam said to the boy before turning to Liege Marext. “My apologies Liege, I meant her,” he pointed at Shaleh, “not your slave boy.”

Liege Marext bowed his head to indicate acceptance of the apology.

“Now!” Rustam roared when Shaleh did not move instantly.

She clenched her jaw and pivoted over to a nearby earthen jug that held water.

“My respected clanspeople,” Rustam addressed the tent. “Liege Marext and I have made a deal that will make our clan safe and give us so much wealth that we will become the most powerful clan on The Plains. The days of us bowing before others is over.”

Shaleh carefully poured water into a big bearded man’s cup. Only a few drops fell on the table. He gave no indication that she existed.

“What are the details of this deal?” the old woman Shaleh had put the meat in front of asked.

“Our warriors, with me at the head, will join Liege Marext’s forces on the the other side of the mountain pass and will help them for one year.”

“In exchange,” Liege Marext added in his strange accent, “I will give you more gold than you have seen in your lives, plus I will grant your warriors a double share of plundering rights.”

He looked back at the boy behind him and nodded. The boy silently removed a leather bag from his belt. As he walked around the table he reached into the bag and placed a fingernail sized jewel in front of each Astaevka clansperson. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, opals, diamonds glinted in the dancing firelight.

“These are merely a start of the riches that our partnership will bring,” Liege Marext concluded.

Around the table people held up the jewels to see how the light from the central fire glinted on their surfaces.

“How many warriors would we send?” asked a senior warrior sitting near Gretch.

“Eight out of ten, plus a large number of support people like blacksmiths, ostlers, and cooks to make sure that all goes well,” Rustam answered.