Abased - The Exiled Warrior

Chapter 9.2 - Duties

Shaleh did not sleep well. Even though the shackles had been removed for the night, the blanket was thin. No matter how tight she curled up she could not get her feet to warm up. Her mind was also unable to rest. It wandered around and around between worry about Nurlan's injuries, uncertainty about Taisha's sincerity, practicing what she would say to her warriors in the morning, and trying to think of ways to escape being a slave.

Once she heard the first stirring in the camp she gave up trying to sleep. It was still dark - the days were getting shorter - but she opened her eyes and steeled herself to be strong. She placed her hand on her belly and rubbed it.

"How are you this morning?" She whispered to the new life within. "More comfortable than I am, I hope. We have an important day ahead of us, and we'll have to be strong. We can't show Rustam, or anyone else, any weakness. No fear. No tears. Daughters of the Empa clan are hard and cold as iron when we have to be. And you will be too... If you're a girl. I hope you are. I don't know the first thing about raising boys."

"Who are you talking to?" Yaomuthan, the cook, grumped from a bed on the opposite side of the tent.

Shaleh had been given to Yaomuthan to look after. It was an arrangement that neither of them liked.

"No-one, just talking to myself," Shaleh quietly answered.

"Well don't," Yaomuthan said. "If you wake up my husband, he and I will both be mad."

Shaleh closed her mouth, closed her eyes, and pulled the blanket over her head. Her hand rubbed a circle on her belly.

"I do hope you're a girl," she whispered in the quietest voice.

An hour later, when the sun's weak rays were creating the first, long shadows of the day, but had not yet given any warmth to the air, Taisha entered the cooking tent where Shaleh, Yaomuthan and the other cooks were preparing the chief's morning meal.

"You! Slave! Come with me," she barked, turned, and left the tent.

Shaleh dipped her head and tried to keep up. The shackles hurt even more than they had the previous day as she pivoted back and forth, struggling to keep up.

Rustam and more than two hundred warriors were armed and waiting for them on horses in front of the chief's tent. Liege Marext, Gretch and Liege Marext's slave boy also watched her approach from horseback.

"Walk," Rustam instructed Shalah. He pointed ahead. "It is time for you to talk to the Empa warriors."

Without nodding, Shaleh turned in the direction he pointed and moved forward. Their pace was slow, but Shaleh was happy to hold them up. She held her chin up, as befitted a chieftain's daughter, and pivoted back and forth.

After slow, painful minutes she cleared the edge of the tents. The one hundred combined Empa and Khashbal warriors sat on their horses in a line, waiting. The sun glinted on spears and helmets. Behind her the Astaevka warriors fanned out in a line. The horses on both lines were nervous, flicking their heads and stamping their hooves. In the centre of the combined Empa and Khashbah warrior Serik sat with an arrow fitted to his bow.

"Come," Rustam said to Shaleh.

He, two senior warriors, Liege Marext and Gretch walked their horses towards the line of Empa and Khashbal spears. Rustam indicated for all the other warriors to hang back. Serik, and a handful of warriors from the other line mirrored them and stepped forward.

"Tell them," Rustam barked at Shaleh once the two groups had reached parley distance.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She swallowed and rested her hands against her thighs to conceal how they were shaking with nerves.

"Serik," she projected so that all would hear her. "Tell the warriors that they are to return to the Empa Clan for the winter. This message is from both Lord Nurlan and myself."

"Offer them the alternative of joining my clan," Rustam growled so that Serik could not hear.

She ignored him.

"Is Nurlan alive?" Serik asked without emotion.

"Yes, Lord Nurlan is recovering from his injuries. He is weak, but alive."

"What of you?" he asked. "Why are you in shackles?"

"They are trying to make me a slave. Have no fear for me, for I have no fear of them. They say that if you do not withdraw our warriors from the Astaevka land, Lord Nurlan and myself will be instantly killed. This does not frighten us, we are both prepared to die. We ask you to withdraw purely so that the warriors and their families may have one final winter of peace before the gathering storm of war engulfs all the clans of the Plains next year."

"I offer you and your warriors an alternative," Rustam spoke out. "One that will bring you glory and riches!"

Serik did not even make eye contact with him.

"Is this what you truly wish?" Serik asked Shaleh.

"Listen to me!" Rustam shouted. "I am the chief here!"

"Yes, it is my wish, and Lord Nurlan's. Go home, rest, spend time with your families..."

"I am the chief!" Rustam bellowed again.

"And Serik?" Shaleh said as she locked her eyes onto Serik's. "Lord Nurlan, knowing how much you love to hunt, asked me to give you an individual message. He said 'Tell Serik to hunt.'"

"That would bring me joy," Serik replied with a blank face. "There is no better way to pass the winter."

"Then farewell, Serik." Shaleh lifted her head and projected even louder. "Farewell Empa and Khashbal warriors! I hope to see you again someday!"

She bowed respectfully to them, turned, and with chin held high pivoted back and forth towards the Astaevka camp. She did not see Serik bow to her in response, or how every one of the Empa and Khashbal warriors followed his example.

"There is another option I present you!" Rustam shouted.

Serik did not wait to hear him, or even acknowledge him. He pulled on the reins and turned his horse around.

"Those of you who wish for gold and glory may join my warriors!" Rustam continued. He held up an leather bag, plunged his hand in it and scattered a handful of silver coins towards the facing Empa and Khashbal warriors. None moved.

"Ride!" Serik shouted.

As one, his warriors turned and dug their heels into their horses' flanks. They raced forward, heading south towards the Empa lands.

Rustam jumped off his horse and stormed up to Shaleh. He grabbed her hair from behind and yanked down.

She could not stop the cry of pain from escaping her lips.

"Don't you ever try to humiliate me again!" He seethed at her. "I may be keeping you alive for now, but there is still a lot I can do to you."

He grabbed her left hand and pulled back her little finger. It popped like a twig.

"Ahh" she cried.

"I am just getting started," he growled. "You have nine other fingers as well as a tongue, ears, and eyes that you don't need to bear me that baby in your belly."

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Stars and comments are very welcome.

-Y. V. Qualls