Chapter 36

Ishar's violet eyes were on Niada, the fact that she'd decided to stare straight ahead or anywhere other than at him didn't deter the shepherd one bit. He liked how she looked, he liked how her hair got pulled by the wind, he liked the tiny shape of her nose, the long slender arc of her neck, her full lips that seemed to part ever so slightly. She would occasionally turn her almond shaped green eyes to him, to see if the weird guy still gawked at her and she would look away quickly when their eyes met.

Ishar was tired of the game of espionage he played when it came to Niada. Always hiding under the crest of a hill, slithering on his tummy and trying his best not to make a sound for fear of being noticed. As he stared at her he became increasingly aware of how little time they both had, how little time everyone had. Death was the blow that destroyed the lute of life, killing away its music and bringing about a silence that was synonymous with loneliness. How he ached to escape that silence only to hear her breath, only to hear her speak.

He'd never spoken to her and the shout he'd directed at her in order to get her to stop praying to Meena had come abruptly, out of the blue without much thought to it. Meena didn't deserve worship from Niada or the Talisi for that matter. The Red priests dotting the land were a stain upon the realm, trying to channel and shape people's beliefs to suit the Binorian Goddess. A Goddess who'd enslaved the realm and wiped out Ishar's race simply because they rejected the notion of forsaking their Gods.

Ishar hated Binoria, he could feel the hate surge with the emotions brought about by seeing Niada. She was beautiful with a sublime innocence that was all too delicate to be destroyed. Yet according to the God Ovek she was to meet her end in a brothel, killed by a man who derived pleasure from causing pain. She was the reason Ishar stood upon the Ganidan plain dressed in red, she was the reason he had to do something to prevent her doomed fate from coming to be.

Ishar turned his eyes and took in the other women around Niada and beside himself. They shared the same fate as her. How many of them were daughters? Sisters? Lovers? Taken from their homes and fated to suffer in the hands of a foreign nation for the rest of their lives. What about the next gift giving? Will more women meet the same end? Ishar wondered. He had to do something. He had to stop this from happening.

Suddenly, everyone around Ishar went down on their knees, bowing low until some of their heads touched the ground. From the women to the soldiers, everyone prostrated themselves. Ishar turned around to see King Gans down on his knee with his head bowed, the Princess beside him whom he'd indulged earlier on in the day had gone down on both knees too before a figure dressed in golden armor. The figure tilted his head back and laughed, his voice carried to Ishar's ear and it struck a cord within him that locked his knees in place, preventing them from bending and painting a picture of servitude.

"Please bow sir." Begged a Talisi woman to Ishar's left whose bosom brushed a Centala flower sprouting from the ground in her effort to emulate her King. "Please bow, or you'll endanger the King."

The man in golden armor flexed the hand wielding a sword and walked to King Gans, his mouth moving and making inaudible sounds that Ishar could barely pick up. "I bow before no one." Ishar replied and started walking towards King Gans and the Golden armored man.

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"I am afraid, Talisi King, that you've failed to meet the required yearly quota." Desan said while his gold plated boots crunched Centala flowers on his way towards the kneeling King Gans. "The Gift giving is more than just a ceremony to ensure the peace between our Kingdoms remains, no, it's more than that. It's an act of providence ensuring your continued salvation before the Goddess Meena who chose Binoria to be a symbol of her power and mercy."

"But the women, surely, adding them to the gifts ensures the quota is met!" King Gans spoke, the calm of his voice was interrupted by a shaky intonation of certain words. The King's confidence had faltered before the arrogance and bloodlust of Desan Vigon.

"I admit, they have ensured the quota is almost met... Almost." Desan said while bringing his sword to rest on King Gans's shoulder.

"Desan." Rehny said, his eyes not on the Prince of Binoria but on an oncoming character. The guy approaching from the Talisi horde was a few inches short of six feet. He had reddish brown skin with dark hair and was otherwise naked if not for the red robes haphazardly wrapped around him. His barefooted steps made little to no sound making him otherwise undetectable to the unobservant eye such as Desan's.

"Shut up Commander!" Desan bellowed with his eyes still on King Gans. "I am in command here and I order you not to interfere or I shall have your head instead."

Rehny had wanted to point out the approaching Kolotian. It was his duty to do so but Desan's orders superseded his sense of duty. Rehny kept his mouth shut and watched as the Kolotian drew near, his pace quickening.

"King Gans, I'm afraid in order to meet the quota I'm going to have to add one more thing from the Talisi." Desan said, flat of the sword still resting on King Gans's shoulder with its blade inches away from the King's stout neck. Rehny watched as the Kolotian's pace quickened, evolving into a jog. Rehny turned his head to Dahli and found her observing the same thing he was but her silence held a curiosity to it.

"What would you desire Prince Desan?" King Gans asked, his face looking up at the Prince who was about to determine his fate. The Kolotian's jog turned into a full on sprint that was so fast the Centala flowers got flung into the air in his wake.

"I would desire your head." Desan said and lifted his sword just as the Kolotian hurled himself through the air, over King Gans's head and landed a kick on Desan's breastplate. The sword Desan held tumbled to the ground as he went flying across level ground from the force of the barefooted kick. Desan flew between Dahli and Rehny, past the standing horses to hit the ground ten feet from where he'd stood, rolled several times and came to a stop next to the first cohort of the Thirty Seventh Legion. A shocked silence enveloped the Ganidan plain.

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