4

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 upon all Baryns. They clung to each other tearfully, eyeing with weariness the soldiers who stood ready waiting for the king’s command to begin to slaughter.

Up in the castle front, where a bare stone oval window overlooked the inner bailey stood two tall figures; one a golden-haired boy of a score years and the other a golden-haired girl of ten and 6 both dressed in white royal robes trimmed at the edges with gold. Their faces impassive as they watched the happenings below. 

“He will ruin his kingdom,” the boy said. His voice carried the weight of his disapproval of the king’s decision.

The girl who had been leaning over the stone edge to hear better drew back a little to eye her brother from the side of her eyes. His face gave nothing away but that did not stop her from suspiciously narrowing her eyes.

“Where does your loyalty lie, Perci?” she asked.

He glared at her as if she had just asked the most stupid question. “My loyalty lies with Arlankis as you well know.” The weight of his loyalty was deeply etched on his back as a reminder. Even now, the skin of his back was drawn taut.

The girl looked at him fully as if she recognized the direction of his thoughts. Blue eyes hard as ice she said, “Do not forget that.”

The boy wanted to say something in return but just then a firm small voice cut through the wails and tension in the air.

“Your actions, Vallezarii, only belies your fear.” Mare’s head was bowed beneath her cloak but her voice rang firm and clear. “You fear that one day the prophecy will come true and you will kill us now to prevent it. I am born of dragon blood…”

Vallezarii bellowed louder so much that his voice reverberated off the gold throne. “Your prophecy is a sad sodden tale to give hope to you downtrodden worms! There never was a prophecy and there never would be a day when Baryns will triumph over Arlankis."

Mare went on as if he hadn’t interrupted her, as if she hadn’t heard his words. “I do not care what gods you bow to, but I promise you, it may not happen in my day but soon your head will roll and your blood will flow. Then, who will sit on that throne that gives you so much power? That throne that makes you a god?”

The silence that reigned was so loud the courtyard fairly shook with it. Even the Baryns had stopped wailing as they strained to see the fool who continued to contend with the king. Every important House member and member of the court shifted uncomfortably on the edge of their seats. Beside her, Llod cursed her stubbornness under his breath.

And for good reason too. They knew the murderous temper of Vallezarii. It was what earned him the name Vallezarii the Fearsome during his rebellion against his father and brothers when he seized the throne and in the nations and cities he conquered.

Even the boy by the window gripped the ledge of the window right until his knuckles whitened.

When Vallezarii finally spoke his voice was low and dangerous. “Take the cloak off that maggot!”

Before Mare could move a soldier tore the cloak off her shoulders. A collective gasp rang through the castle as her raven-black locks fell free.

Upstairs by the window, the girl leaned even closer and suddenly laughed with her eyes wide open. “That is an interesting one,” she laughed.

Mare cringed as she felt her heavy tresses fall past her shoulders to her hips well hidden by the male tunic and trousers she wore.

Vallezarii paused and still speaking low and dangerously said, “Take the clothes off.”

She was pushed roughly to her feet and her clothes stripped from her. She wanted to cry but she bit her lips as the sun warmed her bare flesh marred by grim and dirt. She had come all this way, she would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry. Squaring her shoulders she looked up defiantly and groaned inwardly when she saw the look on Vallezarii’s face as he beheld her.

He suddenly laughed. “How many more surprises can the gods bestow on me on this day? My contender is a woman?” he laughed again. "How old are you?"

She squared her shoulders against the embarrassment she felt. "Ten and seven."

His smile was leery then his eyes drifted to Veren and Llod. “Take the clothes off those two.”

The soldiers did as he commanded. Llod’s protests were weak against the strength of the men.

Mare glanced at them sorrowfully, sorry that she was the reason for everything they were going through. Veren’s eyes never accused her of anything, they were a warm brown that always held that quiet calm in them but Llod accused her without words.

Everyone in the inner bailey now focused on them. Mare, Veren, and Llod shared the exotic beauty that was characteristic of the Baryn. Mare was more than an exotic beauty, her brown eyes slanted at the top giving her the look of a sultry courtesan. Her body was that of a full-grown woman, her hair only served to heighten the tan of her skin and the sinewy grace of her body. Veren and Llod were not left out of the beauty and it seemed that all the women of the Houses were trying desperately not to be caught staring at them. Llod for all his cowardice shared lithe grace and beauty.

They shivered even though the air was anything but cold.

“I see,” the king said with a leer in his tone. “We have not just overlooked the insolence of Baryns, we may have also overlooked their beauty.” Turning to the noble families seated there he said. “Take concubines for yourselves, please your body with the beauty of the Baryns. But,” he pointed at Mare and she cringed inwardly again. “This one is mine.”

In the commotion that resulted as nobles began to rise from their seats reaching for terrified Baryns, some of whom hid their toddlers behind them, Vallezarii raised his hands to calm the discordance.

When everything was relatively calm he sent for a soldier to bring Mare to him. She fought as best as she could but she was no match for him.

“Choose when you wish,” Vallezarii said, “but these three are not common options. Dymas Milelot?” he said to the Commander. “Take your pick.”

Dymas looked at Veren from the tip of his head to his toes, his face impassive as he watched him. “Come with me,” he said gruffly.

To Mare’s surprise, House Angrip chose a tearful Llod. And so, just like that they were shared as slaves but not just any slave…honored slaves among their kinds.