Chapter Twenty

The Execution

Korwahk Queens had execution apparel.

I learned this when my clothes were taken off and new ones put on. A large, square piece of black silk, folded and tied around my br**sts, the end dangling down and coming to a point at my navel from which two gold disks were stitched and hung down, one to each point, two more hitting me, cold and heavy, from the tie at my back. A black sarong shot with gold. A black belt made of woven leather with gold chains braided through. A gold choker made of links that covered my neck from base to chin. My gold bands were pushed up to my biceps, long, wide gold loops fixed to my earlobes. Black leather sandals were tied to my feet.

My makeup of the day was gently but swiftly washed off and black kohl went around my eyes, charcoal gray eye shadow, the dusting of gold powder along my cheekbones and temples and deep berry lip tint was painted on my lips.

My hair was left as it was, hanging long in twists and curls but the pins and clips adorning it for the day were removed and Teetru slid her fingers through, shaking it and ratting it out a bit so it even felt big.

The golden band of feathers was laced through my hair and tied around my head.

The minute Diandra walked us through the tent flaps, I saw the warriors. Not one, two or four… but ten. As Diandra guided me toward the sea of chams, they fell in, four in front, one on either side, four in the rear.

The Daxshee was eerily silent and as we walked we saw not a single soul. Night had fallen and torchlight lit the vast space. I could see the open space on the rise nearly to the opposite end of the Daxshee was blazing with fire and even from a distance, I saw people gathering there and this was because there were a lot of them.

And I knew that was where we were going.

The air was wrong, as it had been when I woke up to it that morning and all day but now it was worse. It pressed in. It felt thick.

I couldn’t breathe.

“The Dax was tolerant, my dear,” Diandra whispered to me as we walked. She had, as usual, curved my hand around the inside of her elbow, pulled me close and held her other hand over mine. “It is a blessing,” she went on. “He does not punish you or his warriors, he took his time to explain his judgment to you; he did this gently, beautiful Circe. I am astounded. It is a blessing.”

I kept my eyes straight ahead as I whispered back, “I adore you, my sweet friend, but right now, I need to prepare myself for what’s going to happen so can I ask that you please be quiet?”

She removed my hand from her arm but slid hers along my waist and pulled me even closer as she murmured, “Of course, my love.”

I slid my arm around her waist and we walked through the silent, vacant Daxshee. It was a long walk but not long enough for me to prepare myself to witness the execution of a woman whose only crime was to be beautiful enough to capture the attention of a Korwahk scout.

Finally, in front of us, through the warrior guards I saw a wall of people, shoulder to shoulder. They saw us and parted slowly so we could pass. When we did, I held onto Diandra tighter, looked straight ahead and avoided all eyes. They thought I’d done wrong, many of them probably thought I should be punished, but that wasn’t why I avoided their eyes. I didn’t think I had it in me to face this and I needed to hold together what I had so I didn’t lose it, not now, not this early. Whatever brought me here, I was their queen. I needed to act like one.

Then we walked into a clearing lit relatively brightly with torches all around and firepits burning on the rise and my eyes immediately went to what was in it.

Dortak, standing, feet planted wide, arms crossed on his chest, bandage around his shoulder, back to us but his neck was twisted so he could watch us arrive.

I barely took him in before my eyes dropped to the stone to see his bride at his feet. She was on her knees, bent fully forward, forehead to her hands which were resting on the stone.

From what I could see, she was wearing a stark white gauze sarong.

My eyes went to the rise where I could see Lahn standing on a platform with our thrones side by side, firepits next to it, torches surrounding it.

He was painted.

I felt something at my side, looked there and saw Seerim was next to Diandra. He had his hand on her but suddenly looked to the rise and I followed his eyes to see Lahn shake his head once. I looked back to Seerim who was nodding. He dropped his hand to take his wife’s and even in the torchlit night I saw the firm squeeze before he moved away and disappeared.

I was to have my friend.

Thank God.

My friend was to have a front row seat at an execution.

She walked tall and her step didn’t falter nor did she leave my side.

As promised.

Damn, but I owed her huge.

I looked back to the rise and noticed that Bain and Zahnin were both standing behind my throne. As we approached, Lahn sat on his. He was in king mode, I knew this the minute his blank, painted eyes left me and he sat on his throne.

I did not dally. The guard peeled off and I walked right to my throne and sat down, Diandra standing at my side.

The drums started pounding, the small ones, but the noise thumped like a giant mallet into the night.

My hands went to the armrests of my chair, my fingers curling around and I squeezed.

Then suddenly the drums stopped and the instant they did, Lahn shouted and Diandra bent to my ear to interpret.

“We are here because the new bride of Dortak took steel to her husband!”

No one said a word. The torchlight danced, the firepits crackled. My fingers tensed into my throne.

Lahn spoke. “Now, she must receive my judgment!”

I swallowed and my eyes dropped to the woman who was still bowed low to her king.

Then a whisper went through the air, I looked up and saw a warrior push through the crowd. He strode into the small clearing that was nowhere near the vast space of the ceremonial clearing of the other encampment and stopped.

It was Bohtan.

He shouted and Diandra translated, “I wish to speak, my king!”

“You will be heard!” Lahn shouted back.

Bohtan didn’t delay. “Our golden warrior queen has championed Dortak’s bride. She has a bond with the wife of Dortak and she has a bond with my wife Nahka. My wife Nahka has felt this bond constrict, linking her through our true golden queen to Dortak’s bride and, should it be your command to spare her life, she wishes to assist our queen in resurrecting the new bride of Dortak’s spirit.”

My lungs seized and my body went solid right along with them.

Another whisper went through the air as Lahn remained silent.

The girl five feet from the base of our thrones didn’t twitch but Dortak’s face twisted with disgust.