Fantasyland 02 The Golden Dynasty (4 page)

And I felt something else, something so
hideous I refused to feel it.

So I didn’t. I blanked out everything as I
watched the lights, fires and tents of the Daxshee get ever closer
and I concentrated on whatever horrors that were next for me.

He was going to parade me naked through
his village, through his people, through his warriors, through
those awful
spectators
,
hunted, beaten, shamed and naked.

I closed my eyes.

How was I going to bear it?

The long way back his horse had walked, not
trotted, not cantered, not galloped. Walked.

It took forever and he’d said not a word. He
also didn’t hold me with tenderness or with triumph. It was like I
was a bundle he had to deliver safely. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

I was his wife now.

Jeez.
His wife.

Oh God.

I needed to get home.

The horse slowed then stopped.

My eyes opened and my body started.

Five women were rushing to us carrying a
variety of things I couldn’t really make out in the dark. I looked
beyond them to see we were well outside the outskirts of the
Daxshee. It was visible but still a ways away.

Why were we stopped?

He dismounted and then his hands came up,
closed around my waist and he pulled me off the horse.

I tried to hold it back but I couldn’t
stifle the moan of pain. He set me in front of him but did not let
go of my waist or move away.

I looked up into his painted eyes to see he
was observing me like a specimen under glass. There wasn’t a lot of
light but I could see his face and it was blank and
uninterested.

God, I hated him.

Then his hand lifted, he unhooked the chain
from my necklace, he turned his head and barked something at the
women then he stepped away from me. The minute he did, one of them
rushed forward. Gently taking my hand, she guided me away from the
horse to the other women.

And that’s when, weirdness of all weird,
they fawned and cooed over me, talking in their foreign tongue in
gentle voices as they wet rags from big jugs and carefully,
soothingly, wiped away the blood and dirt on my body. While they
were doing this, one of them divested me of the silver ring around
my neck.

What on earth?

I started to move away, not thinking to run,
that monster would catch me, but to get away from the women. My
body was twisting this way and that as their soft rags worked at me
but one woman stayed close and held me firmly but kindly while the
others cleansed me. The whole time the woman who held me murmured
gently in my ear.

Once I was washed head-to-toe, the woman
holding me said something softly, the others nodded, rushed away,
bent to some trunk that was about five feet away and then they
rushed back carrying things that sparkled in the moonlight.

Oh please, God, let it be clothes.

My prayers were answered, sort of.

First came what looked like gold chain
links. Tinkling over my head, they pulled it down, fastened it and
I saw it was a halter top exposing as much as it covered.

Not great but at least not nothing.

A short skirt of the same links was wrapped
low around my hips.

Okay, still not great but not nothing.

Then a wide, low hanging, very heavy,
battered gold necklace was pulled over my head. It was so wide and
hung so low, it covered my breasts almost completely, just some
flesh at the sides and bottoms showing.

All right, this was getting better.

Then a
very
heavy, very wide belt made entirely of gold disks, more
dangling from the bottom, was attached around my hips, hiding my
sex but, I could feel, not entirely covering the cheeks of my
ass.

It wasn’t enough, it didn’t make me
comfortable, all that gold was damned heavy but I was not going to
quibble.

Then gold bands were pushed up my arms to my
biceps on both sides, the same with very wide cuffs wrapped around
that nearly covered me from wrists to elbows.

Well, I would have preferred that amount of
coverage elsewhere but again, I was not going to complain.

And then, a thin band of golden feathers, so
golden, they glinted in the moonlight like they had glitter on them
was wrapped around my head at my forehead and tied at the back.

Finally, moving quickly, they coated my body
in a thin layer of oil so that it glistened.

Totally weird.

This was, clearly, the finishing touch for
the minute they were done with the oil, they all moved, stepping
backward and bowing while the woman who held me murmured something
to the Dax.

Before I knew it, me and all my heavy gold
were swooped up in a powerful arm and planted on the horse. The
second my ass hit the horse, the Dax swung up behind me.

But we didn’t move and one of the women
rushed forward. She took one of my ankles in her hand, pushed up
and made as if to swing my leg around the beast’s neck.

She was telling me I was meant to ride
straddling, not as I had been, side saddle.

I didn’t demur. I didn’t have it in me to
demur. Any demurring was left on a stone some ways back. So I swung
my leg around. She nodded in approval, smiled at me and started to
step back, bowing.

The Dax made a noise of tongue against teeth
and the horse moved forward even before the woman fully cleared the
animal.

Okay, so, the bad news was, I was in
another world, I had no idea how I got there and that other world
was absolutely no way a place I wanted to be. I’d been paraded
before warriors and hunted. I watched a man die for me, a man who
did not even know me. I’d been pursued through a wasteland and
forced to receive the attentions of a savage king. Then I’d endured
the humiliating ride back wearing nothing but a necklace, chained
to a brute. I had no way of knowing when this would end,
if
it would end and if I would
ever get back home.

But, at least I wasn’t going to be paraded
through a primitive village naked. The gold was heavy, the chain
links weren’t exactly the finest silk, the whole ensemble didn’t
entirely cover me.

But I decided I’d look on that as the good
news.

People started flooding toward us as the
horse became visible outside the Daxshee and the Dax changed our
positions on the horse. This change was minute but significant. His
arm around my waist slid up so the swells of my breasts rested on
it and it tightened so I was held snug to his big body. This said I
was not a bundle to be delivered safely. This was more intimate.
This said I was claimed.

Then his mouth came to my ear and he said
the first words since he took me.

I didn’t understand a one of them but I
recognized the last one and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t forget it.
The last word he said in his deep, scary, rough voice was a
forceful, “
Lahnahsahna.
”

Okay, whatever the hell that meant, it meant
something to him. Therefore, I needed to find out what it meant.
And I was figuring I needed to find that out fast.

With the old-fashioned attired men holding
back but their eyes still on us, his native people rushed the
horse, took one look at me in my golden outfit and started
cheering, smiling, laughing, jumping in joy, holding their hands up
and waving them, some of them chanting as we rode through them.
Then flowers were thrown, just petals but the deeper we got into
the Daxshee, the more people there were, the more petals drifted
around us until they were all I could see.

It sucked but I had to admit their
softness felt nice floating and gliding against my hot, scraped,
aching flesh. And, if this was a joyous occasion, like a real
wedding of people uniting in love (which it was
not
) those light petals drifting through the torchlit
night would be beautiful.

The Dax said not a word as he rode through
the crowd and his horse didn’t miss a beat but kept his slow,
steady walk through the throng.

The people and their petal throwing stopped
when we reached the dais area. They hung back but their cheers and
chants carried on as the horse took us to the center of a wide
semi-circle of stone that bowed out from the dais. This semi-circle
was created by warriors astride horses, their claimed women in
front of them on the horse, straddling it, wearing nothing but
their necklaces with the warrior’s chain hooked to it.

At this, I was realizing it might be good to
be queen.

None of them, including, I looked and found
Narinda, had a stitch of clothing on.

When I caught her eyes, I tipped my head to
the side and gave her what I knew had to be a small, weird
smile.

Her face grew soft and she returned it.

Then I looked at the other warriors and
their women. Some women looked thrilled beyond belief. Some looked
disappointed. Some looked frightened (and these were even the
native women, apparently having men fight to the death for you then
being raped in a barren wasteland was not all it was cracked up to
be).

The Dax stopped us at the foot of the steps
to the dais and didn’t hesitate in dismounting or pulling me off
the horse.

I tried (and failed) not to think of my ass
cheeks showing as he took my hand and walked up the dais toward the
thrones at the top.

Yes,
thrones
.

Now there were two of them. The massive
black one was now accompanied by another, smaller one. The same
style but the horns were white and the feet were not elephant feet
but some other animal’s feet. Maybe deer. Maybe gazelles.

Serious gross.

The black throne had no pad, as it had none
before and obviously this was meant to show that seasoned, badass
warriors didn’t need sissy things like cushions for their asses.
But the white throne had a fluffy, gold silk covered pad on the
seat and another one on its end resting against the back.

Okay, more good news. I got pads. I could
use pads. My ass was freaking
killing
me.

We made it to the top and he turned us to
the crowd. I could see beyond the large, wide arc of what had to be
at least a hundred warriors, it could actually be more, their
brides and their horses, the crowd had closed in.

The Dax stood there, holding my hand, his
eyes moving over the gathering. Someone had taken his horse away so
at the immediate bottom of the dais there was nothing but a vast
open space, torchlight dancing on the smooth, cream stone.

He did not speak; he just surveyed the crowd
with his frightening, painted eyes. They did not cheer or chant;
they just stayed silent and watched us.

This, by the way, was not fun but I’d had
less fun that night so I just took it and stood there.

Then he started shouting, so suddenly, my
body jerked. I had no clue what he was saying but whatever it was,
he
meant
it,
like,
a
lot.
And this was proved
to be true when, twice, he banged his mighty fist on his muscled,
painted chest.

He shouted for awhile then suddenly he
tugged my hand, bent as my body fell into his, his other arm tagged
me behind the knees, he let my hand go, his arm going around my
waist, he swung me up with such force, my legs went flying and my
arms automatically circled his neck so I wouldn’t be sent soaring
through the air and he roared, “
Kah Lahnahsahna!
”

A deafening cheer tore through the crowd, so
fierce; the wall of sound hit me like a physical thing.

But he didn’t bask in whatever glory he was
receiving. He turned toward the chairs and when he did, my eyes
tipped to his just as his bearded chin (he had a full, black beard,
it was long at the chin and held at the point with a gold band) and
his eyes locked with mine.

Then his arms squeezed me so tight, I
thought he’d break bones.

Then he whispered fiercely,
“
Kah
Lahnahsahna.”

Before I could say a word, he deposited me
on my throne and then sat in his.

Okay, I
seriously
needed to find out what that meant.

I looked over at him to see him tip his head
at the first warrior in the arc. More drums started sounding, not
the booming sound, these were smaller, made less noise but it
wasn’t music. It was just a beat and the wedding rite, I guessed,
started.

Each warrior rode his horse right before us
to the foot of the steps to the dais, stopped, dismounted, pulled
down his bride and walked her up the steps to us. This happened one
after another. All of the men jerked their chin up to the Dax then
their eyes came to me and they bowed their head slightly. Some of
the women bowed to the king and to me.

After the jerking chin, bowing thing, one of
the warriors pulled his bride in front of him, wrapped his arms
around her, one at her chest so he could lift his hand to cup her
jaw and he grinned at his king.

Clearly, he was pretty pleased with his
bride and, in spite of myself, I had to admit, it was kind of cute.
And I allowed myself to admit this mainly because the girl looked a
little tentative but also a little pleased too.

I looked at the Dax who had no visible
response. He might have thought it was cute or he might have been
fighting a roll of his eyes. But his face gave away nothing.

Still smiling, that warrior walked away with
his arm around his naked bride’s shoulders.

A few couples later, Narinda came up with
her warrior. She had blood on her too. Clearly, he’d fought for her
because he had a minor wound at his shoulder. The chin jerks and
bows went on then I leaned forward and caught her eyes.