The Northern Tribes

4

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When we enter the city, we head straight towards the large building on the hill. The outskirts of the city are filled with people lurking in the shadows between run-down huts, and they don't approach us. But once we are well into the heart of the metropolis, the tribespeople stare and whisper among themselves. Some even approach the cart and make quick conversation with our captors.

At one point our leader jumps from the cart and kisses a tribeswoman heartily, before she slaps him across the face and he laughs in response. They exchange words and when she glances towards the cart, she eyes us with suspicion and contempt. I hear him mention Cencith, the name of our homeland and the names of our villages. She approaches the cart, eyeing the captive despondent tribesman, she spits on him and says things I can't understand. But I do understand her biting tone.

It's her words, though, that get the man to look up at her. He stares at her with a look of shame and fear. She says something else to the leader and he nods towards me. She looks at me as well and lets out a nasty chuckle, saying something to the shamed tribesman again before backing away. The leader speaks to her briefly before jumping back on the cart and continuing our journey. The woman he was with watches us for long moments before ducking back into a building nearby.

When we get to the large building, it looks even more significant up close. It has many more architectural features than the other buildings of the city, and it seems that the tribesmen don't have an architectural style of their own. This building is decorated with features I learned about from my father, features collected by travellers and described in foreign stories. The building is adorned with what seems to be a culmination of different foreign styles. It is guarded with tribesmen that have what appears to be an equal amount of tattoos as our leader. They greet our leader with familiarity and almost as soon as the cart has stopped, there is an explosion of activity.

The captive tribesman jumps from the cart and runs towards one of the guards, yelling a warcry. It's the same sound I hear on the night that changed my life. Only, that night- mere days ago, the cry was on a much larger scale. I get a chill up my spine nonetheless and we all watch as the tribesman attempts to attack the guard.

They try to stop him but he has his teeth ready, and he lunges for the guard's throat. The guard is caught by surprise and doesn't raise a hand to stop him. But the next moment, the man is impaled on our leader's weapon. It is sticking out of his back and our leader drops his hand. It takes me long moments to realize he threw his sword through the captive tribesman, who looks back with gratitude as blood pours from his mouth. He falls to his knees and over on his side and is still.

Our leader, however, seems to be quite upset with this development and walks over to retrieve his sword in sullen silence. The large, stone carved doors swing open and an entourage of about ten tribesmen are now standing before us. In front is a heavily-tattooed, beautiful woman. She looks at the recently-deceased man on the ground, and up at the rest of us. Our leader begins to speak to her but she holds up a hand to him. He falls silent.

She speaks, strutting forwards confidently, her eyes sweeping over us. I hear her mention Cencith and he nods in response. Her eyes are light brown and her long blond hair is littered with dreadlocks and polished beads. She wears clothes that appear to be good quality, her body shapely and refined. She is very beautiful and for a moment I'm captivated. All the tribespeople I've encountered thus far have been dirty and battle-worn. They have had missing teeth and poor hygiene.

But not this woman. She is simply stunning.

"So you are the pickings," she says to us in our language without the horribly heavy accent the others have. Her accent sounds somehow elegant. I glance at the five other girls around me and they seem similarly entranced.

"How pathetic," she says to us harshly, glancing at our leader. He says nothing in response. "Well, I have to present you anyway, just in case. Get out," she says, beckoning us out of the cart. We all climb out promptly. The other tribesmen standing in the doorway watch silently, although they are also well-clad. It seems we have reached the high society of the Tribeslands.

"Follow me," the woman says, glancing over us again with disgust. Then she turns and walks briskly into the building. The others part for her to walk through and we follow quickly. The others fall in behind us and the doors close.

Inside the building is just as decorated as the outside architecturally. But the inside also has tons of other decorations as well. It seems that many of the items inside are also from other nations and civilizations. But there are also what seem to be local furs and goods adorning the hallway as well. There are aged weapons hanging on the walls between the torches and large colored-glass pieces hanging from the high ceiling. We hurry down the hall, looking around in wonder.

We turn down a few more corridors that are similarly decorated and she stops in front of another pair of large, carved doors. But these doors are dark wood with large brass designs inlaid. She turns on us without warning and we fall into each other to stop from running into her.

"Listen to me very carefully. You are about to be presented to our Reth, who is the leader of our nation. You will be very respectful. You make one wrong move and I will kill you myself, do you understand?" she asks us. We nod.

"Answer with words," she snaps.

"Yes, ma'am," we say.

"If he speaks to you, answer promptly and truthfully. He speaks your language as well as I do so don't get any ideas. Follow my instructions when we are in his presence. Do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," we mutter. She glares at us for a few moments longer before turning to the door and opening it. She glances at us.

"Wait here." And then she disappears for a brief moment. When she pokes her head out again she looks at us sternly.

"Follow me."

And we enter.