Chapter One_Such Defiant Eyes
Four figures moved steadily forward, in the desert.
One in front, three flanking the first from behind.
Their horses bore their weights with precision, even as they thumped the desert sand.
The air was arid, and the wind blusteringly hot. Sweat dripped from the pores of the desert travellers.
Prince Huvere, Crown Prince of the Rynand Dynasty, rulers of the Passinam Kingdom, and his Generals, Ferosa, Vasim, and Adin, were the desert travellers.
Their eyes darted round wildly in alert, seeking for pasture to refresh their weary bodies.
A man who had been spying on them from afar, brought down his looking glass, and hurried down from his sandbag post.
"It's Crown Prince Huvere and his Generals!" He called out to his people, rushing forward to them.
"Let Jalan and Biman ride out to welcome them." Their leader commanded.
"Yes Master," Ratush bowed, pushed the looking glass into his billowing garments, then ran further down to summon the two men to their tasks.
***
Jalan and Biman quickly rode out to greet, and respectfully welcome Prince Huvere and his companions.
The two horsemen rode in front, while the Crown Prince and his Generals trooped steadily behind them.
The gates of the settlement were thrown wide open, even before they came close.
"Welcome, my honoured Prince, and fearsome Generals," Master Kulak raised his voice, greeting effusively.
He bowed low from his waist, and remained like that, till the Crown Prince and his Generals had finished disembarking from their horses.
"How has trade been?" Prince Huvere asked the smiling man, who was trying to greet them reverently.
His Generals formed a light guard around him, as they were led by Master Kulak and some male elders of the settlement, to a large and well-furnished tent.
"Splendid, my Prince," Master Kulak enthused, "But could be better," he added, holding apart one side of the tent curtains, so that Prince Huvere and his companions could get in.
"What do you mean?" Prince Huvere asked, as he moved towards a plush cushion, respectfully indicated to him by one of Master Kulak's men.
"Not to complain, my Prince," Master Kulak began, drawing nearer but not so close, to kneel before the now seated Crown Prince.
"The high taxes imposed on us by your father, my King, is affecting our trade negatively." He stated.
"How so?" Prince Huvere asked him, flicking his eyes towards him for a moment, before taking his gaze away to stare at the expensive ornaments used to decorate the tent, pretending to be interested in them.
Master Kulak quaked a little, but he steeled himself and continued.
"We had agreed to pay whatever your father demanded of us, but my Prince…," he faltered a little, "The high taxes are making it almost impossible for us to make sales."
"The profit for our trade should be derived from the monies our customers give us, but that is not the case, instead, we are running losses." Master Kulak concluded, wringing his hands anxiously.
"And?" Prince Huvere asked him pointedly, indicating that he should put an end to his ramblings.
"People are refusing to buy our goods, or trade with us, my Prince.
"And if this continues, we might not be able to continue remitting that same amount of money…, but we do not want to leave this place, neither do we want to incur the royal wrath of my King, your father." Master Kulak implored, earnestness written on his face, as he bowed very low to the ground.
"So, what do you want exactly?" The Crown Prince inquired, bidding the snivelling man to raise his head.
"My Prince, you are indeed most generous," Master Kulak praised.
"We want you to appeal to my King, your father, to graciously reduce the taxes we pay, so that our business can flourish a little.
"We in turn pledge to remain loyal to the Passinam Kingdom, and Throne.
"Graciously heed us, my Prince," Master Kulak begged, knocking his forehead firmly on the carpeted floor of the luxurious tent, his attendants dutifully joining him.
Prince Huvere waited for a moment, seeming to be enjoying the sounds of banging skulls on the floor, before he raised his hand.
"You may rise." He commanded them.
"I will communicate your wishes to my Father." He assured them.
"We are most grateful, my Prince," Master Kulak beamed.
"We indeed thank the heavens, for gracing us with your presence today," he gushed further, indicating with his hands for the servant beside Prince Huvere to fan him more diligently.
Prince Huvere just nodded his head.
"Refreshments!!" Master Kulak happily called out to his servants, to attend to the Crown Prince and his Generals.
"We are at your service, my Prince," He bowed low, then straightened, as some servants presented heavily-laden trays of fresh fruits, fragrant wine in gourds and goblets, seasoned meat, and other delicacies that the desert had to offer.
One of the attending women siddled close to Prince Huvere, and made to dab away the sweat dripping from his face, but General Adin, in a flash, gripped her hand hard, and bodily prevented her from getting close to the calm Prince.
He tossed her away, then resumed his silent seating behind Prince Huvere, where Generals Ferosa and Vasim were also seated, eyes alert, and right hands laid on their glinting weapons.
Terrified at what he presumed was a blatant rejection of his hospitality, Master Kulak began to kneel in order to apologise, but Prince Huvere stopped him.
"You have nothing to be afraid of," he reassured the quaking man, "You may leave." He ordered him.
"Yes, yes my Prince," Master Kulak readily obeyed, bowed, and disappeared with his servants.
***
Evening came, and Master Kulak arranged some entertainment for Prince Huvere, and his Generals.
The singing and dancing girls of the settlement twisted their waists seductively, enrapturing the audience with their sensuality, and sonorous voices.
Their lead singer whirled acrobatically before Prince Huvere, giving him come-hither looks beneath her long, dark, heavily-painted eyelashes.
She beckoned at him hauntingly with her hands, and her dancing figure showed she desired him.
Prince Huvere smiled at her antics, and turning his head sideways, whispered to Master Kulak, who was seated respectfully beside him.
Master Kulak nodded, having received his instructions, a wide smile spreading across his face.
Then he beckoned to one of his servants.
Prince Huvere meanwhile had resumed his watching of the interesting dancer, and her twisting companions.
Master Kulak's servant nodded firmly to what his Master had told him, then moved to the side of the enthusiastic drummers, and collected a small silver bowl from them.
Returning to his Master, he respectfully passed him the silver bowl, and Master Kulak in turn, reverently presented it to the Crown Prince seated beside him.
Prince Huvere received the bowl and poured in gold coins generously, from one of the small cloth bags tied round his waist, within his garments.
Noting this, the drummers increased the frenzy of their drumming, and the singers raised their voices up another notch, even as they exerted themselves more than before.
Master Kulak took the filled bowl, and gave it to his servant, who returned it to the drummers.
The lead singer wriggled her body as she clasped her hands before her face, and kowtowed lowly before Prince Huvere in deep thanks, her forehead resting on her clasped hands.
Prince Huvere smiled and bade her rise, which she did, then resumed her frenzied dancing with her troupe.
***
Eventually, the whirling party sang their last song, then made their royal excuses, after thanking the Crown Prince profusely.
"Now, for the grand entertainment, my Prince," Master Kulak whispered to Prince Huvere, his eyes twinkling with sadistic mirth.
There were shrill boos and jeers, as some armed guards of the settlement led a string of scantily-clad women, to the open space, a few distance from Prince Huvere.
The women were whipped furiously with horse whips, again and again, whenever they slowed in their staggering walk.
Two of the women fell down from the sting, and pressure of the horse whips, but were callously booted up, and kicked roundly.
The ropes tied round their necks joined them to each other in a single file.
Their hands were tied tightly in front of them, and only their legs were free.
But looking at them, the running, putrid sores on their feet made it look like, they had been dipping them in continuous fires.
Prince Huvere was thoroughly shocked, but hid it well.
His companions observed the scene before them with dull, hooded eyes, not revealing the thoughts of their hearts at all.
"Who are these women?" Prince Huvere asked Master Kulak with quiet interest.
"Our trophies from one of our raids, my Prince.
Your father, my King, will be especially pleased with these…," he trailed off, fanning himself leisurely with a wide fan, as his eyes glided over the women like hot articles of trade.
"Kneel before your Master!!" One of the guards herding the women barked, and whipped them thoroughly again, before kicking them down to their knees.
The women clambered down, the ropes straining their necks hard.
"Raise your faces, witches!" Master Kulak shouted at them, before spitting hard at their leader, the woman in front.
Prince Huvere glanced sideways at him, the expression on his face unreadable.
"My Prince," Master Kulak started, shifting a bit, "But these women are from one of the places your father, my King, hates so much.
"The Mahlinian Tribe.
"We captured some of them in one of our raids, the rest we got when they came to free their comrades," Master Kulak explained, his eyes darting here and there.
"For how long have they been here?" Prince Huvere asked, silently noting the condition of the women.
"Six months, my Prince," Master Kulak answered, now fanning himself slowly.
"At first, we thought of sending them to your father, my King, as presents.
But we decided to give him something else.
"Hence we kept them here for our daily evening entertainment." He smiled, glancing round at the settlement members, and receiving strong approval from their gazes.
Suddenly he moved forward, pushed a cup of wine into the first woman's bound hands, and dragged her towards Prince Huvere.
"Acknowledge your defeat! Bow before your Master!!" He shouted at her in disgust.
The young woman lurched forward as Master Kulak's dragging strained her neck muscles, which caused the other captives lined up behind her to crash into each other harshly.
The cup of wine flew from her hands, straight into Prince Huvere's bosom, and spilled copiously on his royal robes.
He just sat still.
"Twipe! Twipe!! Twipe!!!" Went the horse whips round about on the young women, even as they twisted in vain to shield their bodies.
After enduring another round of abuse, the captive women slowly rose up to their feet, stoically refusing to utter a sound of pain to gratify their tormentors.
However, the settlement crowd cheered wildly, as blood oozed from the wounds on the bodies of the captives.
Tuning out the clamour around him, Prince Huvere resolutely fixed his gaze on the young woman, that spilled the cup of wine on him, and she, as if being drawn to his gaze by an invisible thread, raised her face to stare back at him.
"Such defiant eyes…," Prince Huvere murmured, then he beckoned with his fingers to Master Kulak, who inclined his head much closer to him.
"I want this woman for the night," he commanded him, pointing at the young woman.
"Ah my Prince, your wish is my command," Master Kulak bowed, smiling mischievously.
"You can have all of them for the night, if you so wish, my Prince," he prodded.
"No, one is enough for the night," Prince Huvere declined, still calmly observing the female captive with regal airs, standing before him.
Master Kulak smiled snidely, then waved some of his attendants closer.
"Go, prepare the tents for our honourable Prince, and his esteemed companions.
They will soon go in for the night," he whispered to them.
"And make extra preparations for our Prince, he will be having the stubborn one tonight." He instructed, eyeing the captives with deep malice, especially the one standing in front.
***
After Prince Huvere and his Generals made their exit, the captives were thoroughly whipped, hoarded, and pushed back into one of the large tents that had been converted to a settlement prison for them.
Some well-armed guards stood in front of the prison, while more camped round about it, on high alert.
The ropes were loosed from the neck, and hands of the leader of the captives, after which she was half-pulled, and half-dragged out of the tent, towards that of the Crown Prince.
The guards hurled derisive laughter at her, as they threw her inside the tent, then drew the curtains close, and briskly walked away.
No one was present inside the tent, as Prince Huvere was having a meeting with Master Kulak, and some elders of the settlement, in one of the larger tents.
Getting up from where she was thrown, the young woman captive rearranged her tattered clothes, then moved slowly round in the tent, calmly surveying its plush interior.
She fingered the thick, expensive curtains of the tent, her face scrunched up with disgust.
"What a waste of valuable goods," she muttered, "Like gold used to decorate a pigsty."
Next she moved towards the wooden bed, and espying the knife lying on the tray of fresh fruits on a low stand beside the bed, she quickly grabbed it, and hid it inside her tattered gown.
Glancing at the fruits again, her stomach rumbled loudly.
Disregarding whatever consequences that might arise from her actions, she fell to quickly munching and crunching the fruits, swallowing them with force.
Approaching footsteps from outside the tent made her slow her actions, and look towards the entrance with apprehension.
Prince Huvere threw aside the tent curtains, and grandly stepped inside the tent.
His eyes attuned to the flickering light from the oil lamp, and he noticed the shadowy figure standing by the side of the bed.
Outside the tent, and that of his Generals, some armed guards of the settlement were keeping watch.
Not that Prince Huvere's Generals were incapable of protecting themselves, but Master Kulak had insisted in offering the protection.
He did not want his royal guests to be displeased in any way.
"Sit down." Prince Huvere commanded the silent figure eyeing him, with undisguised malice in her eyes.
The command fell on deaf ears.
Glancing round the tent, Prince Huvere noted the various items that were dropped there, including the half-eaten fruits in the tray.
A smile grew in his mind.
Walking towards the bed in slow, measured steps, he began to undress himself.
He loosed the wide gold-crafted belt from his lean waist, and threw it on the carpeted floor.
Next he removed his bejeweled forehead band, and flung it somewhere in the tent, causing his entrapped hair to tumble in smooth, silky waves down his muscular back.
The young captive woman gasped, and her eyes widened a fraction, at the sight before her.
But Prince Huvere ignored her, treating her presence like air, as he flicked his head from side to side, getting rid of the kinks that had accumulated in his neck during the day.
Feeling relieved a little, he blatantly began to peel off his clothings, leaving only his taut undergarments on.
The young woman captive's eyes honed in on the bulge straining through his tight undergarments, down to his thick, well-developed thighs, and further down to his sturdy long legs, and shapely feet.
"The Crown Prince of the Passinam Kingdom…
"No wonder he is called 'The Bewitching Beauty of a Thousand Suns'…, 'The Desire of countless maidens' horny dreams…," the young captive woman mused in her heart, her stubborn, yet greedy eyes taking in the unashamed masculine loveliness before her.
As if understanding her thoughts, Prince Huvere smirked, then turned his back to her, inadvertently giving her a full show of his muscular back, well-formed butt, shapely lean waist, thick thighs, and long, fair legs.
He smiled to himself, as he began to perform his routine of refined stretches, and brute movements, getting his body ready for bed.
He was sure he heard a moan, or something like that, as he increased the intensity of his workout, his muscles flexing here and there.
Satisfied that his body was now in tune, he slowed down his movements, exhaled from deep within, then walked steadily to the wooden bed, and sat down.
The young captive's eyes that had been glued on him, slithered over him like that of a hungry serpent, taking in the small rivulets of sweat that were dripping over his delectable body.
The fairness of his fresh skin, could not be dampened by the dimming light in the tent.
If anything, the light added exotic hues, to the handsomeness of the extremely attractive man.
Prince Huvere's long, flowing dark hair swayed a bit, as he properly adjusted his sitting position on the bed.
Then without warning, he focused those dark pools of hot oil he had as eyes, on the young captive woman.
Instantly, her alert levels increased.
"My command was for you to be seated, on this bed." He reminded his wary offering for the night.
"You can only have me over my dead body!" The young captive woman swore hotly, before swiftly pulling out the knife she had hidden in her tattered clothes.
Prince Huvere noted her expert handling of the knife, his mind moving in deep calculations.
He got up from the bed and advanced towards her slowly, his quick eyes noting the way her body stance changed, and readjusted itself.
Then a strange dance ensued.
He moved forward, she moved backward.
He moved left, she moved right.
They waltzed round for a while, circling each other like hunters engrossed in a dance of death.
Suddenly, Prince Huvere struck out with the edge of his right hand, attempting to knock out the knife from her hand, but she with the same momentum, slashed forward, and almost gave him a nasty gash on his right hand, had he not taken it back speedily.
"Dangerous." Prince Huvere thought, observing her movements steadily, trying to predict her next move, their mad dance not pausing for a second.
The young captive woman smoothly passed the knife from her right hand, to her left hand, then back to her right hand, her movements happening in a heartbeat.
"I will gut you either way," she seems to be saying, her eyes flashing wildly like that of a tiger.
Smirking as a sudden thought came into his mind, Prince Huvere swiftly weaved some hand signs with his right hand, then pointed his fingers resolutely towards the flickering light in the room.
Instantly, a sharp gust of wind swooshed it off, effectively throwing the tent into darkness.
What followed next was a mad dash of movements, as punches, blows, and kicks rang out in the darkened tent, its occupants engaging in a fight, like that of life and death.
Something tripped the young captive woman, and she fell down hard, hitting her head at the foot of the bed.
She saw stars for a moment, but rapidly shook it off.
However, as she turned her body to get up, gripping her knife, a foot kicked it out of her hand, and stepped mercilessly on her wrist.
She bit down her lips to stifle the scream of pain, that threatened to erupt from her throat.
The owner of the foot sadistically increased its pressure on her wrist for some time, almost crushing her bones, then lifted it.
The young captive woman painfully sat up, clutching her wrist that was aching in a thousand ways.
But she got no respite as her dirty hair was gripped, hard, and her face brought closer to that of the architect of her pain.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way," Prince Huvere threatened her in low tones.
"But either way, I win." He reminded her, giving her no real options.
"So, do not let me choose for you." He finished, tightening his harsh hold on her slimy, long hair.
Panting hard, her face flushing, with sweat dripping down her brows, the young captive woman twisted her head side to side, trying to loosen his hold on her hair by an inch, but Prince Huvere did not budge.
After a moment, she nodded her head, indicating that she agreed with his words.
Smiling like a victor, Prince Huvere released his hold on her hair, but dragged her up by the front of her tattered gown, causing further tears to appear on it, then flung her on the bed.
***
The light flickered again in the large tent, and this time, its occupants were more quiet.
A lot of broken things lay on the floor, as a result of the battle between the two people, but Prince Huvere didn't seem to be bothered by them.
He picked his way carefully through a lot of sharp-edges items, and got himself a small bowl, into which he poured some water from a pitcher, and added a generous amount of honey, from one of the bottles in his small waist bags.
He took the wash cloth provided for him by Master Kulak's servants, then approached the strangely silent figure, that was sitting on the bed, clutching her right wrist.
"Take off your clothes." Were the next words that left his lips.
The young captive woman eyed him derisively, and shifted further into the bed.
Without giving her time for further reaction, Prince Huvere dropped the items he was holding, safely on the floor, and dragged her forcefully to himself.
With one hand, he twisted her arms painfully behind her back, and viciously tore off the tattered clothes from off her body, with the other hand.
Her supple, perky breasts were instantly revealed.
The young captive woman wanted to die in shame, as Prince Huvere's dark, limpid eyes roved over her twin towers with unashamed interest.
She even felt her nipples harden, as the cool air in the plush tent ghosted over them.
While staring at what he could not deny was a feast for his eyes, Prince Huvere noted the stark contrast between the chest area of the young captive woman, and the other parts of her body.
There were a lot of wounds, and crisscrossed whip marks decorating her flesh, all over her body, except for her chest.
The sores on her legs and feet were already festering.
"Do not tell me that the Crown Prince of the Passinam Kingdom, is a lecher!" The young captive woman spat out with much venom, as she could muster.
At her words, Prince Huvere lifted his dark eyes to stare at her face.
She was definitely a beauty, if one would look past the grimy, slimy, discolored marks on her face and skin.
She also didn't smell nice, at all, and her predicament was not helped by the fact that, whenever she opens her mouth, one would feel like bitchslapping her into oblivion.
Smiling with deep meaning in his eyes, Prince Huvere replied her; "I will take full responsibility for my lechery."
If looks could kill, Prince Huvere would have been a dead man, with the way the young captive woman glared at him, her hatred for him shinning undisguised in her eyes.
Releasing his painful hold on her arms, Prince Huvere pushed the naked woman to lay flat on the bed, with her back to him, then began to tend to her wound-ridden body.
The young captive woman was stricken with surprise, as she realized that this might have been the Crown Prince's intentions, from the beginning.
Little by little, she relaxed, as he carefully tended to her.
"What is your name?" Prince Huvere asked her, trying to start a conversation between them.
She kept quiet for a moment, then answered him; "My name is Zahrona.
"I am the Crown Princess of the Mahlinian Tribe."
Prince Huvere's hands on her body stilled for a moment, at the information that dropped from her lips.
"What led to your captivity in this settlement?" He asked her next, deftly resuming his ministrations on her body, as he now tended to the soles of her feet.
Princess Zahrona exhaled deeply, both in relaxation and pain.
"There was a raid by the Huldad settlers against my Tribe," she started, "And in the ensuing warfare, two of my sisters were captured."
"I led a team of three to find them, and free them. But on getting here, we ran into an ambush of aphrodisiac weapons, hence we lost the mission." She muttered ruefully.
"Your Father harbours these slave drivers, and keeps supplying them with weapons, thereby encouraging them in their harmful activities." She berated Prince Huvere in anger.
"I'm very sure that those evil things came from the Passinam armory! " She contended, attempting to get up from the bed, and face the son of the tormentor of her people.
"The Passinam Kingdom has a garrison at the borders of my Tribe, how tyrannous can your father be!" The angry Crown Princess fumed, jabbing a slender finger of her left hand, at the muscular chest of the male god before her.
"Do you not think that it is very wrong, provocative, and utterly disregarding of the Mahlinian Tribe's sovereignty and territorial powers, for your Passinam Kingdom to be acting that way?!" Princess Zahrona argued again, her chest heaving.
"The Passinam Kingdom is a Kingdom of unscrupulous beings and landgrabbers, so do not blame my Mahlinian Tribe for trying to remove vermin from our doorsteps!" She finished, her voice rising with agitation.
Prince Huvere laid his items aside, then took her injured wrist.
She winced hard as he began to massage it slowly, and carefully.
After a while of tending to her injured hand, during which he tried very hard not to stare at her exposed womanly parts, Prince Huvere replied her:
"My father has his reasons for keeping the Huldad Settlers," he began.
"Right now, a lot of people might not understand the reason for his actions, but soon, everyone, including you, Princess, will applaud the beauty of his plans." He explained to her, smiling.
Princess Zahrona just snorted.
Amused at her disbelief, Prince Huvere picked up the wash rag, soaked it in the honeyed water, and made to wipe the face of the Crown Princess, but she stopped him.
"I'll do this one myself," she hurriedly declined, taking the dripping wash cloth from his hand.
Prince Huvere let her, noting the way she moved with discomfort, due to some of her wounds, opening.
He got up from the bed, and tossed the bedcovers to her.
"Cover yourself. Keep the items near the tent entrance when you are through." He instructed her.
Princess Zahrona nodded silently, then muttered a quiet 'Thank You'.
Prince Huvere took a mat from a corner of the tent, then laid it on the floor in preparation for sleep.
"Wait," Princess Zahrona called out to him, "What are you doing?" She asked him, trying to stop his actions.
"Getting ready to sleep, my Princess." He answered her, as he smoothly lay down on the mat.
"But the bed…," Princess Zahrona faltered, "The bed is for you!" She reasoned with him, trying to dissuade him from sleeping on the floor.
"Let me sleep on the floor, while you sleep on the bed," she persuaded him.
Prince Huvere chuckled, then replied the concerned young woman; "Get some sleep for tomorrow, Princess. You will need it."
"How so?" Princess Zahrona asked him, still being her stubborn self.
"Because I have a plan." The Crown Prince of the Passinam Empire answered her, then shut his eyes in a much needed rest.