The realm of Esk, located in the subtropical part of Eriagor, south of the great River Kassa, which can only be crossed far upstream, is the second largest realm of the world. It is not touched by the teachings of the cult of light, the religion that spread across the land from the realm of Oss, long ago, in the shadows of time. In Esk, the cult of the ancient gods persists, unabated by the influence of the cult of light. Society is patriarchal, and the men hold all decision power regarding all matters. Culturally, the Eskian society is xenophobic and has little tolerance or patience for non-Eskians.
The Eskian religion, which is called the Hadith, Eskian for The Way, imposes a very clear cut division for the roles of males and females in Eskian society. The Hadith mandates that it is a sacred duty for females to be always servile to the males. To such a degree this is true, that in the Eskian language, there is no word for woman, and there is no female gender. In its stead, the Eskians use the neutral-gender word kisa, which means servant, female, slave and wife. Likewise, it is the sacred duty of men to perpetuate their line, which is only possible through fathering as many male children as possible. For men, the Eskian word Kar means at the same time man, master, owner, father and husband.
Traditionally, females are allowed to remain with the kisa that birthed them until the age of six, with no contact with the father. When they reach the age of six, they are given to the temple of the Holy Five. At the temple. the Priest of Ramug puts a red and black leather collar around the neck of each female given. From that moment on, the females are considered sacred to the god Ramug, and are known as tateena, which means unbound. Then they are given to a man to learn the ked na kisa, the way of the servant.
The tateena grow up learning the ked na kisa until the age of sixteen. At that time, a tateena is deemed fit to be offered at the Ha-Ta-Kisa, the monthly Rite of Presentation of Servants. The tateenas are taken to the town’s temple, and ritually auctioned. The winner of a tateena imposes on her a simple collar on her neck, and tattoos his mark on her left thigh. The auctioning, collaring, and tattooing are followed by the public taking of the tateena by her new man, making her a full kisa.
The servility of kisa to men is absolute. They are not allowed to know any man’s name. All men must be addressed as kar. Kisa may not speak in public without being spoken to, and the only words that they may ever utter freely in public are “hek na kisa Kar kisaari” which means “may a servant serve the man,” and “Tak Kar na kiseere,” which means “here the man is served.”
The path of the Hadith has reigned in Esk for thousands of years, and is among the oldest religions in the history of Eriagor. The total servility of kisa to Eskian men, a core part of the Hadith, also implies that kisa must be beautiful to the man’s eyes, so he can procreate with her as often as possible. As a result, females have been selectively bred to be beautiful, and over generations of selection the less attractive features were weeded out; as a result, Eskian females are known throughout Eriagor as being of incredible beauty.
Despite the Eskians’ culture being totally dominated by men, there is little fear for kisa of being raped or murdered: While it is the right of their man to use their kisa’s body however they wish, the Hadith has a very stringent code of ethics that prevents men from raping and murdering kisa. They can be punished, though, in whatever way the man deems fit. Indeed, killing a woman is reason enough to summarily kill the murderer, and rape is punished with banishment to the Khali, the southern badlands of Esk, a harsh, unforgiving desert straddling the world’s equator, from whence no one has ever returned.
Eskian men have two names: Their public name, or use name, and their true name, which they divulge only to those people they can absolutely trust. It is the belief of Eskians that to let someone know one’s true name is to give that person power the other. True names are given only to men; kisa only receive a use name, which can be changed at the man’s will at any time.
Politically, Esk is ruled by a Grand Moff, Lord of Men, Keeper of the Five Gods, Protector of the Sacred Knowledge. The current Grand Moff is called Terka, fifty-second of his dynasty, who has ruled over Esk since time immemorial.
The Grand Moff rules over four Moffates: The Northern Moffate, bordered by the great River Kassa; the Western Moffate, washed by the Western Sea; the Southern Moffate, also known as the land of fire and ice, because its northern lands are comprised by the Khali, the Void, a large, inhospitable desert through which few pass, and whose southernmost lands are known as the Alrub, the Frozen Wastes; and lastly and the Eastern Moffate, which borders with the realm of Oss. The capital city of the Eskian realm is the grand city of Esk, at the center of the country, where the four Moffates intersect.
In the city of Kef, the main city of the Moffate of the West, 35 leagues from Esk, the men were excited. There was a day of presentation coming up. Twenty-five tateena were to be auctioned, as prescribed by rite, each to their new, lifelong man. One man in particular, who went by the use name of Hek, was keenly interested in the upcoming auction. After four years of training at the military academy, Hek had completed his mandatory, two-year military service at Esk’s border with its age long rival realm of Oss, serving under Durass, Moff of the East, and had returned home to Kef only the previous month. With most of his pay in his pocket, Hek was finally able to afford bidding on a kisa. It was important for him, as no man was truly a man in Eskian society unless he had at least kisa, for a man could have as much as four kisa under him. The Hadith frowned upon keeping more, and it was also written that only one kisa, the man’s first, was the one meant to provide him with male heirs.
To preserve his line, then, Hek was preparing himself to bid on a tateena at the Ha-Ta-Kisa the following morning. Hek went to the local tavern. A slave came silently to him and said, “What does the kar desire?” to which Hek replied, “Strong wine and roast meat.”
For in Esk there were also slaves. Men who had gotten in debt, prisoners of war, and women from other realms in Eriagor were made into slaves in Esk. Enslaved women were trained into the way of the kisa, but since they were not Eskian, they would never bear children to Eskian men. Sex with a foreigner slave woman was a high crime in Esk, and the man who stained himself with such an offense was condemned to be cast away from Esk. Slaves were considered property, and as such they had no names, except those decided for them by their owners, and lived only for the lowest, hardest chores, or to serve at taverns where kisa were not available. Slaves in short were temporary labor, and when they had performed their function or paid their debt, they were either sold or freed. When kisa were available again, enslaved women were either kept as service kisa, auctioned, or traded back to their original land, if known, for a price. When the slave, a male, brought Hek his drink and meal, he consumed them quickly, paid the price of the meal and drink, and went back to his home. The sun was westering and it was time for praying to the sun god Nat as he lowered himself from the land, so he could come back up the next day.
Her name was Koa. This was the use name given to her by the man who owned the house she slept and worked in, and had done so since she was six. Her father had given her to the Temple, and the priest of Ramug, after putting around her neck the black and red collar that marked her as a tateena, had assigned her to learn the way of the servant under the authority of the city’s baker. He was a nice enough man, as far as men went, and she had cleaned the ovens and floors and counters since before she could see over them. All she had ever known was work and chores. She had earned her own name when she was fetching water one day. The Baker had told her to carry only one bucket at a time, but she had seen the older women carrying 2. She was seven at the time and had slipped and fell, dropping both buckets and ended up covered in mud. She had been whipped of course, for spilling the water and not obeying the Baker’s instruction. Since that day her use name had been Koa, Eskian for mud.
Today, according to the man who had been responsible for her education, it was her sixteenth birthday. By coincidence, it was also the day in which the Ha-Ta-Kisa was held. Koa would be taken to the Ha-Ta-Kisa on the same day as her birthday. The Baker had her bathed and groomed so he would get good bids for her. It was his duty to do so: With higher bids for tateenas, the tithes for the temple would be higher, and more copper and silver and gold would go as offering to please Ramug, the god of fertility. Koa had golden, dark hair, the color of new honey that had an almost golden sheen in the sunlight. Her eyes were a crystal, bright blue; her breasts had filled out in the last year and were now firm and round. As with all true Eskian females, she had no hair from her eyes down, as that had been bred out of them. She was covered in a simple, white silk tied behind her neck that barely concealed the front of her breasts and left the sides and cleavage exposed. the back was bare and cut so low that the dimples at the top of her heart shaped ass were exposed, and the garment was completely open at the hips, so her long, shapely, tanned legs were visible. Anyone kneeling and looking when she walked would easily see her bald, virginal slit when she walked and the flap of the front of the silk drifted, but this was not a big deal. Nudity was common in Esk, as few men bothered to buy clothing for kisa. Young children were usually covered, but the idea of child molestation was so alien to the strict Eskian code of ethics that there wasn’t a chapter on it, it just simply was never done. Most women rarely lived beyond 50 as their usefulness started to lessen and more appealing and younger tateena came of age.
Koa lifted her chin and the Baker attached a rope leash to the sturdy, black and red leather collar that had been on her neck for the past two years, after she had outgrown her last one. He was chortling about how excited this was, about the money he would get for her, but to Koa it was terrifying. From today she would be a man’s lifelong servant. She would be collared, and marked, and then she would be taken, in public. She knew it was coming, all girls knew it, but she was scared of the pain being taken would bring. Most kisa witnessed silently their men’s sexual escapades. Only the gods knew what they thought. To Koa, though, the prospect was scary.
There was a huge crowd gathered at the town center where a large stage had been erected. The high priest stood in his black and red cassock, its hood back, and talked to local officials. Ringed around the stage were the offerings, twenty-five fresh girls who had turned sixteen in the month since the last presentation. If she had been born a day later she would have had one more month of… well… relative freedom.
The Baker led her to the edge of the stage and she turned, head down to face the crowd, which was of course all men. Cuffs made of the same sturdy, black and red leather were placed on her wrists and a small chain link connected the wrists to a ring on the back of her collar, which kept her hands behind her neck. The Baker tapped her thighs and she spread her feet to shoulder width as was expected. She would remain in this position as the sun rose higher and higher. She would remain stock still as dancers and musicians would entertain the crowd before the auction, for the hours of examination when the men would poke and prod, fingers in her mouth, ass, and pussy to inspect the new merchandise before settling on a bid.
Hek had slept well, that night. No bad dreams had clouded his sleep, and the next morning he woke up and got out of his house with a bag full of coin. His salary, during the two years he had spent in the army, had been good, for all Eskian soldiers were paid for their service, and paid well, to defend Esk against those would pounce upon the Land of the Many Divine Plenties, or just the Land. For that is what Esk meant in Eskian: Land.
There was already a good number of men already gathered at the temple plaza. Hek muttered a curse under his breath, he was late, and whatever kisa he chose, he would overpay for it. There was one, at the far end, though, that did not gather too much attention. Odd, though. It was beautiful enough, long legs, blonde hair… Hek came closer. There was the town’s baker, always covered in meal dust, standing next to the girl. Hek wore a sash bearing the gold color of the guild of warriors, to which all soldiers belonged. The sash held up a pair of leather leggings that were comfortable and fitting at the same time. The bulge of his genitals was slightly evident, which bore indirect witness to his puissance and size. His chest, unlike lower grade warriors, was clothed with a white linen shirt. The chiseled features of his face showed a solid, square jaw, deep, penetrating green eyes, and fiery, red hair. Quietly, Hek observed the kisa on display. At last, Hek addressed the baker:
“Good day, kar baker. This is a fine tateena that you are displaying. Have you received bids for it?”
“Good day, kar warrior, isn’t this tateena beautiful? Please, don’t hesitate to examine it with care, I have so far received eight bids for it, the last one was for two silver disks.”
Hek nodded. He examined the tateena, never taking his piercing, green eyes from it. “It has good hips. It will provide many male heirs. I am not surprised of its price.” After a pause where Hek glanced over the tateena as if he was examining a piece of armor, Hek broke the silence again with the first, firm sign of real interest on the servant displayed:
“How is it called?”
“It is called Koa, kar warrior,” replied the baker.
“Koa.” Hek looked at it, being silent for a moment. He hefted its breasts, felt its sex, looked into its eyes and opened its mouth, examining its teeth. Then he said, “I bid four silver coin for it.”
Koa gasped softly and her blue eyes lifted a moment, then fell immediately. A loaf of bread cost 3 copper coins, and 10 coins were the same as a silver coin. The young soldier just spent what would feed a family for a whole month for her.
The baker opened his eyes widely. Four silver disks. It was a high bid, one that he could not pass up easily. It was his ultimate power to decide to whom would Koa be auctioned, no matter what the bids were. But the size of Hek’s offer was impossible to disregard. So much to give Koa away to his friend Garr, the dye maker. “It is yours, kar warrior, unless I receive a higher bid.”
The day went on, and seven other men came to look at Koa. They all bid, and the highest bid Koa got from the other bidders was three silver, six copper coins. At high noon, the high priest of the temple sounded a gong. “Presentation and examination time is over. Tally the bids, presenters of tateena.” The bidders had gathered around the stage, and murmurs were quietly fading. The tallying of the bids was a big deal, for each month the Moffate’s tithes to the priests of the Divine Five were levied directly from the total amount of money gathered at each Ha-Ta-Kisa. The tithes helped the priests to perform their rites without worrying about worldly concerns, and the remaining was an offering to the god Ramug, protector of wealth and fertility.
Slowly, the tateena were assigned to the bidders selected by their responsible ones. The metalworkers at the side of the platform got busy, substituting where necessary the thick collars of the tateenas with the thin, light steel collars of the kisa. Next, the assigned kisa were tied to benches and their thighs tattooed, and on that same bench the men slipped down their leggings and ritualistically took final claim of the tateena by taking their virginity, completing their claim.
Koa’s hands were untied from her collar and she was led to the crowd, towards the young warrior. She kept her eyes down and stood to her new man’s side, the same side in which his sword hung, as was tradition. Immediately Hek was accosted by the merchants, selling perfumes and gilded, gold and jeweled collars, and the trainers, older women who offered services to teach the new virgins how to please a man, both orally, sexually, and other small pleasures such as dancing and singing.
New tets, dancing silks, pretty leashes, all kinds of trinkets were on display. It was a great time for merchants, but Hek was already feeling the pressure of the people, and he just wanted to take his kisa and leave the crowd. Already the girls who were sold before Koa were standing near the inker. There were five benches, three were being used and four girls had already been tattooed and taken. Koa fell backward on the hard, wooden bench, her ankles locked on rings at the bottom, her wrist shackles locked to an eyebolt above her head. Her young body was stretched out and two curved blocks, which would be removed for her taking, held her knees far so she couldn’t escape the needle. The inking took ages and burned like fire ants on the girl’s soft skin, but in the end she had a flawless black tattoo that was an intricate symbol containing both the city’s symbol and Hek’s family mark combined into an artistic curve that looked somewhat like a crescent moon with a cat’s head in the middle.
The blocks were removed and before the taking Hek was allowed to inspect the inker’s work. Koa closed her eyes and turned her head as Hek lowered his leggings. Many men, especially the older ones, needed help to get started and the inker had a few female slaves from other lands who would do this with hands and mouths, and some, the young ones, often would erupt before breaking the girl. But not so with Hek. He was more than ready. Koa had dreaded this moment, and finally it was upon her. She was about to be taken by he who would be her kar, her man. Usually the taking was done with a hard jab, a thrust that tore through the girl, then the usual grunts and rutting amid the cries of pain. Hek instead paused and ran a finger over Koa’s virginal petals. She was dry of course, and trembling.
This would never do. He kept stroking, very slowly, very softly. Although it was proper etiquette to get the deed done and move for the next client, it was not exactly a rule, and Hek wanted this to be pleasurable. Thrusting into a dry passage was bound to be painful for him. Koa’s face was impassive, then her eyes closed. He felt moisture and the blooming of her clit as it arose. Her red lips parted in a small moan, and the wetness increased. Soon she was moving her hips up, pushing on his fingers. He smiled. His father had taught him that, though kisa were servants by the will of the gods, they needed both a firm hand and a gentle touch.
“Whip a dog and it will fear you, and eventually it will turn on you, boy,” he would say. “But praise the dog, show it compassion, and it will obey you to the death.”
He removed his fingers and the look on Koa’s face was almost comical. She looked concerned that he would stop. He ran his hands along her arms and his eyes locked on hers. They were the color of pools of water, and shimmered slightly. They were incredibly beautiful and he felt he could stare into them for days. Small white teeth bit her bottom lip as he wrapped his fingers around her small wrists, and the head of his manhood pushed on the opening to her petals. Her ass lifted up, giving him a straight passage, and Hek gave a push of his loins. Koa’s sex was at the same time soft like warm butter and tighter than anything he had ever experienced. He thrust in deep, slow, hard. Koa’s hymen had broken but at that point she was so… wet, so much in need, that she barely noticed. He was inside her, filling her, splitting her open, and it was amazing and wonderful.
Hek closed his eyes and his own firm ass tightened as he drove in deep. Her thighs closed on his hips and as he drew back he felt the tightness of her pulling at him, like a suction drawing him back. He thrust forward again and Koa’s hips lifted up, meeting him, and she let out a delightful little growl. He withdrew and then thrust again… And again… And she met him each time. The crowd faded, the noises faded and the world centered on both of them, moving together as one and the moment before he exploded inside her he felt her tunnel fluttering, clenching and opening like butterfly wings around him. She had orgasmed, for the first time ever. He erupted inside her and felt the world around him implode, then he was panting and leaning over her, head down. He had never felt so completely drained.
Hek pulled out, and could have sworn that there had been a wet, sucking sound. The inker had never seen anything like it and quickly unshackled Koa, who stood on shaking legs, Hek’s seed dripping out of her taken sex. She stood still, waiting for her man’s orders, but this time, for the first time, there was a small smile on her lips. Hek panted as if he had run 30 fields in a row in full armor. Taking this sixteen-year-old by following his father’s advice had proven to be true. The kisa’s body had yielded to his touch, and when he had taken her, the response, instead of painful, had been one of immediate, absolute, total surrender. His penis was flaccid, damp with his kisa’s juices and the bloody evidence that up to very recently she had been untouched.
Hek looked at Koa, and said, “Your name is no longer Koa. Your name is Talra.” Talra meant pond in Eskian, and Hek had chosen that name on account of his kisa’s blue eyes. Immediately after renaming Koa to Talra, Hek looked at his kisa. Talra nodded. She had not been given permission to speak; and thus she could not acknowledge her new name. Then Hek said, “cleanse me, Talra.” A slight movement of his hips shoved his kisa what it was that she was supposed to clean. Talra knelt, and slowly licked Hek’s member with her tongue, until no juices or blood remained on it. When Hek was cleansed, he said “Good. pull up my leggings.” Talra obeyed, and Hek tied his gold sash around the waist, and took his kisa to one of the metalworkers.
The man stared at Hek in awe. No one had ever broken a kisa so thoroughly and so definitively as Hek had. Ever. Hek said to the merchant, “Measure a collar and shackles for my kisa. I want them to be thin, light, and of gold.”
The metalworker said, “Of course, kar warrior.” He then took out one of his best collars, made of gold, ethereal and thin, with matching wrist shackles, and said, “This set costs two silver coins, kar warrior.” Hek nodded, bartered down the price to one silver coin, paid, and said, “Fit it to my kisa.” Hek looked at Talra and said, “For your own good, obey the metalworker.” Talra once again nodded, and the metalworker measured Talra’s neck, and said, “kneel, kisa.” Talra obeyed, and with two firm tugs the black and red collar leather collar that marked her as a tateena was removed. Immediately afterward, the thin, gold collar that Hek had chosen was put on Talra’s neck; the metalworker then took a thick mat of well-tanned leather and put it between Talra’s skin and the collar. Then, he carefully soldered the collar with liquid gold, making it a permanent fixture on Talra’s neck. Lastly, he carefully finished the collar, warming it and cooling it until it took on the appearance of a solid, continuous circle around Talra’s neck. The same process was done for Talra’s wrists.
Talra ran her fingers over the collar. She couldn’t see it, there were no mirrors, but it was smooth, and felt thin. For so long she had worn the heavy, iron collar and this one felt lighter than air. Hek could see that her skin was pale where the iron collar had been, untouched by the sun. The golden weave of the gilded collar was breathable and curled around her slender neck like thick lace. It shimmered like her hair and Hek was momentarily blown away. He had never seen a kisa who looked so beautiful and he felt a swell of pride. Once Talra had been collared, Hek attached a gold leash to the ring at the front of Talra’s new collar. The law mandating that kisa were to be leashed in public was more for their safety than anything, for no kisa would even consider running away. The thought of disobeying or “equality” was as foreign to them as the thought to flying would be to a horse. No such thing had ever been done, attempted, or even contemplated in so long it was just something no one considered. Talra fell into step immediately, her silks swishing back and forth against her knees, her hands clasped demurely in front of her, blue eyes on her man’s heels, ready at a moment’s notice to stop. Her entire focus came to walking, making sure her long legs could keep up with his longer ones.
Hek smiled as he entered his home. It had been built while he was away in the army. His father’s estate was nearby, so when his father passed the land would become his. Not that he hoped for that, his father was a good man, and the wisest person he knew. He had met Farida, the kisa who birthed him, but her age had made her unwanted and his father had traded her to a foreign merchant long ago. Where she went he didn’t know, hadn’t really cared. Such was the way of Eskian men, they did not get emotionally attached to any female.
Talra followed her man inside and looked around in awe. It wasn’t a huge house, but it was larger than the single room the Baker had above his shop. She had a blanket to sleep on and other to cover herself where she slept in the corner. The Baker’s kisa slept in his bed, of course, and was kind to Talra, but she too was detached. It made little sense to make close friends with someone who can be sold at a whim. Hek detached her leash. “Hang your tet near the door. I will get better ones for you to wear outside but inside you are to remain nude,” he said with authority. Talra immediately disrobed and hung up her silk beside his cloak. He then led her into the kitchen, which was bigger than what she was used to but entirely functional for one person. He led her then to the master room. “You will sleep with me in the bed,” he said and she nodded softly. He dropped onto the bed and she immediately dropped to her knees, then rested her butt on her heels, and began taking off his boots.
Hek smiled. His first kisa. Most men went through 3 kisa in their life, some went through more, taking new kisa on average every 10 years or so. He knew he would have trouble finding a new kisa as beautiful as this one. Her skin was slightly tanned, flawless, and her bones well defined. Her breasts were large enough to be appealing and firm, but not too large to be a hindrance to her movement. She walked with a feline kind of grace that she seemed entirely unaware of. Even her toes were cute. “You are beautiful,” he commented and she stopped, looking up at him, then smiled and finished taking off his boots and hose. She then rose like a dancer and unlaced his shirt and slid it over his head. She turned to set the hose and shirt in the basket to be washed when strong arms wrapped around her waist. In surprise she cried out as he tossed her backward on the bed and she landed with a slight bounce, giggling. He was hard as a rock already and as he crawled on top of her she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He took her again, and she was already wet and ready. They climaxed together and he was still rock hard. She rolled him over and took him in her mouth. The Baker had hired a trainer to increase Talra’s value, and she applied all the skill the trainer had taught her on a wooden phallus to his flesh one. The feeling was exquisite, her tongue massaged and played, her hands soft and gentle on his scrotum and shaft, her lips pulled and sucked the blood into the helmet. She would bring him to the edge with an almost aggressive style, then she would kiss, lick, suckle softly until his blood was no longer boiling, then start again.
“He will tell you without words when he is truly ready, and then you will take him to the finish,” the trainer had said. Suddenly his hands were in her hair, pushing her against him so hard her nose pushed into the musky, dark hair above his shaft. His balls tightened against her chin and she held her breath as he erupted right down her throat. Reflexively she swallowed, which only tightened her throat over and over and felt more and more of him empty into her stomach. Finally, he pushed her away, his pink, shiny member sore to the touch. It felt like it had been abused. Hek smiled. He could definitely get used to this. She wiped her lips and stood. “Shall it prepare the man’s meal?” she whispered and he heard her voice for the first time. It had a soft, musical quality he found appealing.
“Chicken and boiled potatoes,” he said and she bowed her head, backing out of the room with the laundry. As soon as the door was closed she leaned against it and smiled, sighing. He was laid out flat on the bed, out of breath and smiling. “Wow,” they both whispered at the same time.
Hek took some time to recover. This kisa was probably the best of the whole lot, he thought. There was something about her, something that Hek could not place, nor name. It was surprising, every time, as if there was a silent connection between him and his kisa. Hek thought a bit more about it, and decided that he’d ask his father for advice later. In the meantime, Hek stood up and pulled up his pants. Bare chested, he grabbed his sword and went to the back of his house, where he had set up practice mannequins. He said softly a prayer to Buk, the god of war, and then he offered his tribute to the many armed one, by training rigorously. When he was done, Talra was waiting for him, his meal ready on the round, low table. Chicken, prepared the wester Eskian way, heavily seasoned in spicy herbs and with the addition of a small red hot pepper which western Eskians ate regularly and called “red pepper” but other Eskians found extremely hot and spicy and called it “dead pepper.” The potatoes were boiled and perfectly mashed, and Talra was kneeling naked to the left side of Hek’s cushion. Everything was just served. “Have you eaten, Talra?” asked Hek.
Talra looked up from her kneel, which tradition and good custom mandated to be with her thighs closed, and hands resting on the center of her chest, between her breasts. She had not been given permission to speak, so she said nothing. Hek frowned. “We will have to do something about talking to each other, Talra,” said Hek at last. “While in this house, you have a blanket permission to speak to me.” For it was tradition that in Eskian homes the ultimate authority resided either on the eldest man. Families in Esk did not stay close for long. When male children came of age, at 14, they were sent off to be trained in the art of war, at the local military school. There, young boys, called mikar in Eskian, were trained in weapons handling, hand to hand combat, strategy, command, and discipline. It was a rigid regime that lasted four years, and two more of service in the army, often at the eastern border, where skirmishes with Ossian soldiers were not uncommon. In Hek’s case, it was he who was the eldest man of the house, and as such ultimate authority fell on him. Whatever he decided to be appropriate in his house was his will and all under him had to obey. Talra smiled softly at Hek, and said, “yes, kar”. Hek smiled. Talra had a beautiful voice.
Hek sat on the low cushion that Eskians used for chairs and used a wooden spoon to break up the meat of the chicken. It was cooked to perfection, the meat slid off the bone. He scooped up some potatoes and chicken together and ate. The flavor exploded in his mouth and he closed his eyes. By the gods, where did this kisa learn to cook? He glanced at her as he ate then repeated the question. “Have you eaten, Talra?” She looked at him, then a sly smirk appeared on her lips. Those remarkable, liquid blue eyes drifted down to his lap and as he took a drink of his ale she whispered. “Kind of, kar”. He choked and covered his mouth, then burst out laughing. When he had recovered he smiled back. Her smile was so genuine. “Have you eaten anything besides my seed, Talra?” She lifted her smooth, slim shoulders in a slight shrug. “It had a biscuit given in preparation by the Baker and expressed its gratitude, kar.” For it was proper of a kisa to always be grateful for anything a man gave her.
He reached out and pulled her up onto his lap. He set his spoon down, for her lips would never touch anything he ate from or drank from. He lifted a large piece, the largest piece, of chicken from his plate with his fingers and scooped some of the potatoes onto it, then held it to her lips. Her eyes met his, and she couldn’t believe the beauty in those eyes. Sparkling, green with flecks of gold. He slid the meat into her mouth and she took a bite, chewing slowly. Over and over until it was gone, then she licked his fingers clean, with the same sensual, agonizing slowness she had shown his manhood earlier. He felt himself stirring and smiled. She felt it too. He was young and virile, and the raw, youthful sensuality that Talra emanated touched him at a deep, instinctive, animalistic level. His member pressed against his leggings, and he undid his warrior sash. He said, “pull my pants down, Talra.” She smiled, a soft cascade of giggles, and without saying anything Talra lowered his pants. His member, free of the constraints of the leggings, stood up, hard. Hek grabbed Talra’s bottom, it was yielding and it filled his hands, but it was also firm. He pulled Talra against his hard member. His manhood’s head slipped between her plump petals, but instead of penetrating her, Hek guided her slit along his manhood. It was like having a small furnace slide along his shaft, and he stood still, but guided Talra back and forth with his hands.
Talra slid to face him, her arms draped over his shoulders. Her man was strong, her man was young, her man was very, very virile. She would give him many sons, she knew it. She would make him proud and happy. She smiled as she saw her life, the life of a proper kisa before her. This was life. She ground her hips, slowly up and down, coating his hard, throbbing shaft in her slick, warm juices. She couldn’t believe she was so scared about sex. This was amazing. He leaned back and closed his eyes, then opened them again. As good as it felt the look on her face was even better. She had a look of peace, of bliss, and of lust. Her blue eyes were cloudy and it is said in Esk sex was a woman’s only pleasure. Talra was definitely taking a great deal of pleasure. Hek felt something stirring inside him. One of his father’s many, numerous, continuous pieces of advice came to Hek’s mind.
“Trade out kisa as often as you can, it is more than just to have a fresh, young body in your bed. You get attached to them, emotionally. It isn’t good for them. The gods made us this way for a reason and women know their place, but you start feeling affection for them and they can turn your head around, fill your heart with impure thoughts. Make you doubt yourself and your place in the great plan.”
This concern was immediately cut off as Talra lifted up and lowered herself on his shaft. Once again he felt her tight, hot tunnel gripping him. Her small teeth sunk into her bottom lip and she settled down on his lap, burying him deep. All thought was gone at that point, for both of them. They pushed and pulled against each other in perfect rhythm, her nails dug into his back.
She was moving up and down, in a fast pace. Time seemed to have stopped and they did not know how long they were moving, but it was near the end, neither could hold back much longer, neither wanted it to end. His hands lifted and slammed her hips up and down and her thighs trembled against his. Suddenly he grabbed the back of her head and her eyes widened as he pressed his lips against hers. Her hands went immediately to his chest. His tongue was invading her mouth! What the hell was he doing? He was going to bite her! But the thought was blasted out of her as he drew her tongue back into his. Her lips were not supposed to touch anything his did much less the lips themselves! This was so forbidden, so against every moral decency, but as Hek drew her into his mouth that didn’t matter anymore, she slid her hands from pushing on his chest to wrapping around his neck, smashing her bare breasts into his hard chest and the world exploded once again. Their orgasms were simultaneous and lasted several minutes. The forbidden kiss broke only so they could breathe and she collapsed against him, panting hard. He held her tight, his fingers in her hair. “You… will tell… no one…” he whispered to her and she nodded weakly. If anyone ever found out she would be blamed and labeled a whore. That would be her death warrant.
Hek had done something he’d have to keep a secret all his life. He had kissed his kisa. The feeling, the forbidden nature of the act, was unbelievable. Questions started to rise inside the young warrior’s inquisitive mind, even as he rested after filling Talra again. His balls felt sore and ached, and Hek knew that even though he could take Talra a few more times that day, his balls would not replenish until the next day or two. Spent, Hek kept his shaft inside Talra while it became flaccid again, and kept looking at her. Finally, he said, “what we did… It did not feel forbidden.” While Hek rested, questions were starting to form in his mind. He did not like to have questions in his head, because then he would not cease to think about them until they had been answered. Especially one image kept coming to his mind, an image of an Ossian prisoner who, before being enslaved, had begged to be let go. “Please let me go, I have a wife and three children, two boys and a girl, I love them, please allow me to go to them!” His words, uttered in the common language which all realms in Eriagor understood, had struck Hek as totally foreign. What was love? Why did he hold having a female as a good thing? These doubts started to gnaw at his mind like angry bugs, and he frowned. Hek said, “Clean up over here, Talra. I will take a stroll; I must have answers to certain questions.” Talra slid off his lap. His face had changed, his whole attitude had. He regretted it, she knew it. That kiss had lit a fire inside her and she wanted more. But she moved between his legs, using her tongue to clean him and fighting back tears, sure he was already having second thoughts about keeping her. She couldn’t even apologize and as she tied up his trousers she frantically replayed what had happened, what she did wrong. She did something to spark this in him. That it was her fault was never a question, but she had been open and wanting and giving, as she was supposed to be. She needed advice too, but as he walked out she realized… she had no one she could talk to.
Hek moved Talra off him and had her clean him up again, and when his pants were up and his sash tied, he looked at Talra and, bare chested, headed out. Hek would spar again with the mannequins, harder than he had done before the meal, and then he went for a stroll. Walking did not help either. His mind was boiling with questions and feelings, and Hek’s father was away in Esk for business. Hek did take a momentous decision during his stroll. He returned to his house, and sat down. “Talra,” he said, “come and kneel next to me. I am troubled.” When Talra knelt by his side, Hek said, “No. Not to my side. Kneel in front of me, so I can see your face.” When Talra changed position, Hek reached and grasped her hands in his. His chest was glistening with the exertion of his training and the stroll; the strength of his inner turmoil, though, was far less evident. “Talra,” he said at last, “I am troubled. In the heat of the moment of taking you, I did something improper. I allowed my lips to touch yours.” Hek looked even more troubled. “It should not be like this… But to me, touching my lips with yours felt… I don’t know how it felt. It felt warm, and close, and as if we were speaking through that touch, without need for words.” Hek did not let go of Talra’s hands, and said further, “I wish to know what did you feel, Talra. How did it feel to you? Think your answer carefully, kisa, but answer me with the truth.” Talra looked up at him, her head and heart spinning with confusion. “I… It… It is…” talking was never her strong suit. She had never… Ever… Not once… Been asked for an opinion, or a thought. Her thoughts were his, her opinions were the ones he gave her. Was this a test? A test of what? She closed her eyes and pulled her hands away. She felt like her heart would explode from her chest if she didn’t do… Something. She suddenly leapt to her feet and started pacing back and forth. Forming the words, her own words, was slow and getting them out would be tough. She paced back and forth, her hand clenching and pressing against her chest.
“Maybe… it doesn’t understand the question, kar,” she said softly. “Your lips… Against mine… Were… NO! wait…” She turned to look at him and placed her hands on her hips, the most peevish little look of annoyance on her face. “What did the man mean to tell the truth? Does the man think it would ever lie? to anyone? for any reason?” She didn’t give him time to answer and went on, pacing again and waving her hands for emphasis. “It was amazing! It… It felt it in its toes! It wanted it to never end! It was… Hot… In here” she placed a hand over her heart, then pointed at her temple. “And here. It wants to do it again, but it knows that it is not allowed. And you! You… Magnificent, wonderful man! You… You… Turned it into… A… A whore…” and she fell to her knees sobbing. Being a whore was, in Esk, a deadly sin, and a criminal offense. Some females got it into their head that they could use sex and seduction to get the things they wanted from their man. This was akin to high treason and meant a certain death, as it put the female’s needs before her sacred duty to her man.
Hek listened to Talra, and watched her. He had asked for his kisa’s opinion, and he had gotten it. He frowned deeply when he heard Talra said that he had turned her into a whore. Technically it was true, though. That made of him a procurer of whores, an outlaw, with no honor, and no guild, and liable to be banished to the Khali. Banishment was a sentence worse than death, for not only was he labeled as a patak, a man with no honor, but also all of his possessions were confiscated and destroyed. Hek could not allow that to happen. “It is only a matter of time before either your guilt or mine dooms us, Talra,” said Hek at last. “I do not want to see you dead, and I do not want to be banished to the Khali. This Moffate… Indeed, the Land itself, has become a threat to me.” Hek paused a moment. The realization of what they had to do emerged to him like the morning sun. “We must go into exile,” said Hek at last. “We must however prepare to leave gradually, and carefully, without raising undue attention.” Talra stared at him in horror, but she nodded. Even if she hadn’t agreed she would have agreed. “yes, kar. Where shall we go?” She knew he had been abroad in the war, even if it was just within Esk boundaries, but she had never even thought about what would lay outside this city. She had barely ever left the area she lived in.
Hek frowned. He said thinking aloud, “Oss will never accept any Eskians. To the north, past the river, would be a good option. They are little more than barbarians, and heathens, but an outlaw cannot choose his company. We will go East, all the way to the Eastern Moffate, and there we shall cross the River to the north, at its narrowest. On the other side, we will be questioned, and we will be regarded with suspicion. But I am an Eskian kar, and perhaps my sword will be of use among the northern barbarians.” He then looked at Talra. “And you, Talra, will remain a kisa. No matter where we go, nothing will change that I am a kar, and you are a kisa. We will depart in two moons’ time. That will be enough to settle my affairs while keeping a low profile.” And so it would happen, because when an Eskian kar set his mind to something, he carried it through to the end, no matter what it was. The time that passed between that fateful kiss and Hek’s and Talra’s departure was enough for Hek to settle all his affairs, and sell the house to his father, promising him that “when he came back from his mission, he’d buy it back.” The times in which he took Talra could not be counted. They would happen whenever he felt his manhood throb for his kisa. Once he had to rent a room in the city’s tavern to take her two times in a row, such was his hunger for Talra. And every time, unfalteringly, he would feel his world implode when he released within Talra. Every time Hek took his kisa it felt wonderful, and tight, and like there was something that he and his kisa shared that went beyond the mere mechanics of his taking her.
When the time came, Hek arranged two horses, one saddled, and one not. He had Talra pack all of his clothes, which fit in a large bag, and had her wear her white silk garb. He tied his sack across the back of the saddled horse, and took Talra by the waist, and mounted her on the unsaddled horse’s back. Talra rode behind Hek on the horse he had chosen for her to ride. She was wearing a white, transparent top of such soft, light silk it felt like her chest was bare. Around her hips was a short, white wrap that could be lifted in case her man wanted to use her. Hek was so worried, she could tell. The future was uncertain and when his father realized the truth she was unsure what he would do, but he doubted the old general would just let them go. He would either hunt down and punish Hek, and kill her for seducing him, or bring them both back to be exiled (for Hek) and executed (for her). She wondered about Oss. Yes, it was far and the Ossian ways went against the will of the gods, but if rumors were true they were not unkind people and all the tales she had heard of Oss, and the even more fabulous realm far to the north ruled by 2 queens, all told of tolerance and peace. Surely if men could freely choose kisa, and kisa could do some trades, as she had heard it was in Oss, or if 2 women could love each other and be accepted as rulers as in the far northern realm, then Talra’s whorish ways could surely be understood?
She immediately stopped thinking about that and concentrated on Hek’s back. 2 women sharing a bed… How absurd. How did they expect to have a family and produce boys? It was ideas like that that made Talra wonder why the gods didn’t just destroy all the heathens completely. Such blasphemy to the natural order must be forbidden. Their first night was spent in the open. Hek had chosen to avoid roads, and go cross country, avoiding undue attention from road patrols and other traffic. It made for a slower ride, and bumpier, so that by dusk Hek and Talra had made only 5 leagues. It was Hek’s job to find shelter. There was a copse of trees and Hek guided Talra’s horse towards it. There, he took his sword and cut several low lying branches to make a bed. “No fires, Talra” he said sternly. “Instead,” he said, “look in the left saddle bag of my horse. There should be some dried meat there. Bring it to me.”
Talra pulled out the dried meat and the half-full water flask. She waited until he was comfortable and knelt at his feet, holding the meat and water to him. He took it and she immediately began to remove his boots. He ate slowly, sighing softly as he watched her. Even out here in the wild she looked beautiful and held herself with grace and perfection. His pride in her grew and he knew that, had anyone seen how she behaved, looked at her instead of over her, she would be coveted, maybe even by the great priest himself. When she was finished he tore of bits of meat and she ate from his fingers, an age old custom that had been made law as a reminder to women about whom they were meant to serve. When she had fed she kneeled and placed her head on the sticks between his legs, arms out and crossed. She was asking for permission to speak. Hek said, “Yes Talra, you may speak,” and smiled.
“Thank You, kar,” she whispered and lifted back up into a more comfortable kneel, but before she could utter a word he drew her to him, her back against his chest, so she could recline against him while he wrapped his arms around her waist. Pushing his face through her honey colored hair his lips found her neck. He had done some exploring with kissing and discovered a few places that made her make the cutest sounds and as he nibbled on the hollow between her neck and her shoulder she let out a lusty moan.
“You were saying, my kisa?”
“It was saying…” she whispered dreamily, in confusion, then giggled. “You make it very hard to think, let alone speak, kar.” She ran her small, gentle fingers over his hands. “You… Maybe you don’t have to leave Esk. It means… It is a big country, there are many towns and cities. Port Uro, it heard, is a nice, small village on the coast, so said a…” She stopped. She had heard of Port Uro through a conversation between the Baker and a foreign customer. Women could be severely punished for eavesdropping. Talra continued carefully, “a friend of the Baker’s. Perhaps they would be in need of a strong, handsome, wonderful sword.” She smiled and slipped her hands behind her back, rubbing on Hek’s other sword.
The sun disk had just gone under the horizon. Hek was listening to Talra, holding her close, when he felt her slender hands rubbing against his manhood. Hek had started to say, “You don’t want to…” But it was too late. Already his manhood was pressing against his pants, tenting them. He made a soft, grunting moan, and he said softly just one word… “kasta”, which meant fiery in Eskian. He slid his hands down her sides, and had Talra straddle him, her back against his chest. Hek pulled down his pants and his member pointed up. It was rock hard, and it slipped easily inside Talra’s spread womanhood. Sawing slowly, Hek drove himself deep into Talra; from this position it felt as if Hek could take Talra deeper, but first he slid a hand up Talra’s side and neck, and his fingers glided into Talra’s hair, and grasped it firmly. With Talra grasped in that manner, Hek’s free arm wrapped itself around Talra’s waist, and he rutted her, slowly, then faster, then he stopped… Or almost. Hek said, “On all fours, Talra”, and when she obeyed, Hek stood to a kneel, and he leaned forward, making Talra’s torso touch the grass, while her bottom was high up. In that position, he took her, slowly, taking his time, his manhood plowing so deep into Talra that he could feel the bottom of her vagina with the tip of his member. He pounded her, faster, and faster still, until he shuddered and his world imploded, his balls tightened and throbbed, and he felt the rush of his sperm as it spurted violently, basting Talra’s insides with his seed until it overflowed out of her in white, stringy rills. Panting, Hek slipped out of Talra, and leaned against the tree under which they had just consummated.
Talra smiled, she had orgasmed 3 times during that particular copulation. Granted she didn’t have a lot of penises to compare to, but Hek’s seemed made for her. It touched her in all the right places. She snuggled up against him and closed her eyes. She had said what she wanted, unsure if it was even a good idea. She seldom had any real ideas, well… Voiced them anyway.
The night was chilly and Talra huddled up against Hek to keep him warm. Her thoughts returned to Hek’s father. She only saw him once in the last 2 weeks, she had seldom left Hek’s house as was common to kisa. He was tall, handsome as Hek, and even more serious. Everything had been about duty and honor. Talra was sure that he had never kissed anyone, had never even thought to, and wouldn’t understand the… The what? Talra shifted her eyes up to the stars. What was this? She knew that kisa showed affection to their man, but it was, like everything, a duty, and a sacred one, too. To provide him with pleasure and sons, to take care of his health and house. That was her duty. The Baker’s kisa saw the Baker as her man, but just a man. All men were the same, it was a common belief practiced to prevent jealousy. A kisa could be expected to be given to friends, for a night, for an hour, forever. They were almost a form of currency. And a kisa was considered kasta, fiery, if she was so desirable that another man would consider having her. But this was something new, and scary. Looking at Hek took her breath away. Her heart sped up, his smile made her melt. His touch made her wet. Of course she wanted him all the time, he was… Fantastic. In all ways, and everything a man should be. She had no concept of falling in love, but she did know that she couldn’t see herself without him. She fell asleep wondering if he would ever see her as more than just a pleasing servant.
Talra. Talra, Talra, Talra. Hek could not stop thinking about Talra. Had he been seduced? Had he fallen to hidden wiles? No, Talra was perfect. She was beautiful, young, and always knew her place as a proper kisa should. She was all a kar could want. What if… What if there was more to this than just a dutiful, pleasurable kisa? Her idea though was a good one. A port city could be both a good place to hide and an easy way to escape quickly, should there be the need. As Talra cleaned him, Hek looked at her. She was beautiful. Not just objectively, though. Talra’s beauty struck Hek at a deeper, almost primal level. It was her that he wanted, desired, needed. “We will go west to Port Uro. I like your idea, my kisa.” She didn’t respond, she was asleep.
The next day was a slow trot. It would be another 3 days before his father would be expecting word of his arrival from Fort Portho in the high mountains and 5 days before he reached Port Uro, in the exact opposite direction. Talra was in awe of the countryside, the various plants and animals and people, different dialects and dress codes. In the city the kisa wore nothing at all, or transparent, filmy silks, but out here in the outskirts where the farmers lived and worked to feed the city people, the kisa wore long, sturdy drapes, tied at the waist. In the city the most they carried was bushels, baskets, buckets, to carry food from the markets to the man’s home, but out here they had tool belts, with farming tools, trowels and small hoes. And they wore shoes! Talra had never in her life wore shoes! The men were friendly, the kisa cheerful and bright. Everyone was hardworking and saw their duty to the welfare of the kingdom as something that kept everyone alive. It was real Eskians, honest, hardworking, without the political intrigue and worries over state that was so common in the cities. Talra loved these people. As night fell they came to a small town, so small it had no name and only three official buildings, the rest of the residents lived in towns that were, literally, hours away. Land wise the town was three times the size of the city, with less than a quarter its population. You can breathe out here! she thought in excitement. They came to an inn and Hek lifted Talra off her horse. He paid the young boy and girl, his sister apparently, to whom he was watching over and teaching the ways, who took the horses to be fed and watered. Talra followed him inside and looked around. All the kisa were stark naked, except for the youngest girls who were allowed to wear clothes. She stripped down just inside the doorway, which didn’t take but a few seconds, and walked up behind Hek, hands clasped before her chest and head down as he approached the innkeeper. “Room for me and my kisa, innkeeper” said Hek. “What is good from your kitchen today?” The innkeeper said, “We have fish stew and a fish and meat dish that is traditional here.” Hek said, “My kisa will prepare me something at the public kitchen. Have my room ready by the second vigil.” The innkeeper said, “it will be done, kar.”
Hek went to the dining room, which featured long, naked pinewood tables, and a public kitchen at the end. Once Hek took a seat, he said, “my kisa, see what you can prepare for me at the common kitchen in this inn. Also, bring me ale.” Talra nodded and bowed her head before turning and walking into the kitchen. There were other kisa there, some belonged to the inn, some belonged to the patrons. She smiled at them and they all smiled back, but no words were spoken. Like in most Eskian female relationships, it just didn’t pay to make friends. She made a thick, hearty meat stew and fresh baked bread with cheese mixed into the dough. She sliced some apples and broiled them in sugar, cinnamon, and fresh butter, then piled it onto Hek’s plate and filled a large tankard with ale. She walked back and saw him sitting in the corner, where he could see the door while he ate. She walked over and knelt on the floor beside him, setting the tankard on the table and holding the tray in both hands, in case he decided to eat from her instead of from the table.
A tray could be dropped quickly, whereas setting plates and the such on the table took time, and Hek was a man with precious little time, or so he thought. He separated some of everything, and fed it to Talra first, and only after she ate did Hek eat from the tray itself, and drank the ale in slow, long sips. After dinner was consumed Hek passed through the innkeeper’s desk. He said, “Your room is up the stairs, fourth room on your left, kar.” Hek took Talra with him and went up to the inn’s second floor. The fourth door on the left was Hek’s room, the door was left slightly ajar on purpose. He opened the door and entered first, then said, “in, my kisa.” When Talra came in, Hek closed the door and locked it with the wooden lock on the inside of the door. He stood between door and bed, and said, “strip me, Talra.” She took care stripping Hek of his clothing, kneeling to unlace his boots and then untying his tunic and finally his trousers. She looked his nude body over and a small smile creeped to her lips. Then she turned and set the clothes aside. She would be up washing them and setting them to dry before tomorrow. She looked over at Hek and ran a hand over his chest, the kisa signal that meant “thank you” among other things.
“Would kar wish a bath?”
Hek said, “Gladly.” The ride had been a long one and both he and Talra smelled like horse sweat.
Talra bowed and walked out, she returned to the first floor and approached one of the kisa.
“Please, kisa, my kar wishes a hot bath water, and it needs to wash his and its clothes.”
The kisa tilted her head curiously. “Bring the clothes and it will see them washed and dried by morning. The kar, he is a strong, handsome man. A kisa would do well with him.”
“Thank you, kisa, he is… Different.”
“One would wonder about his name, only because his face is familiar. He does not live in this town, yes?”
“No, he and it come from…” Talra stopped herself and waved her hand in a vague direction. “The north.” She bit her lip, there was only one city to the north but many small towns. She was never permitted to lie and hoped the girl wouldn’t press the issue, but she didn’t.
Buckets of hot water were brought to the room and at the sight of Hek’s naked body near the window the kisa who delivered it smiled and giggled as they hurried out. Talra added the cold water to make it better and knelt beside the tub. There was no need to tell him it was ready, she wasted no words when not needed. She could feel his eyes on her, following her as she moved. Hek entered the tub. He sighed, and relaxed. “Enter the tub and bathe me, Talra,” said Hek, resting his head on the edge of the tub. Under the warm water, his manhood throbbed erect. Hek found himself lusting for Talra, wanting to take her right then and there. He had a naughty idea, though. He said, “wait… Turn around and don’t look.” He waited for Talra to turn around and then exited the tub. Water splashed down his body, and pattering with moist feet on the crude, roughly hewn wooden floor, Hek took his manhood, which was rock hard, and while one of his hands grabbed Talra by her hair, the other guided his member’s head to her entrance, and with a firm hump against Talra, he was inside her, filling her with his largest, hardest erection ever. Hek pulled on Talra’s hair, and his hips moved in circles, taking his kisa slowly, unhurriedly, but in total, deep, absolute possession. He was tempted to kiss Talra again, but the risk was too great. His free hand cupped Talra’s sex from her front, rubbing rhythmically at her labia while his member took her. Feeling his lust increase, Hek thrust faster, seesawing back and forth until his manhood was almost in, then pushing back in, over and over, while his hand touched Talra’s sex all over, on her clit and outer labia. Talra was bent forward, her hands on the wall, his thrusts were pounding and the firm hold on her head was exciting. She tries to push back and felt herself exploding, orgasming on him. Taking Talra like that, from behind, felt more intensely, and Hek was soon at his peak. His balls clenched and hiked up; he shuddered, and with an animalesque, primal “hhhurrrrgh!” he shot a massive load of sperm into Talra’s sex, giving a few, hard thrusts as Hek spent his last deep inside his kisa. Panting, he said, “now you can bathe me.”
She smiled and climbed into the tub, lowering herself into the water and waited for him to climb in. She used the soft soap to wash him, running her hands over his body. Her eyes lit up, his body was amazing, hard in the right places. His hand, now soapy, traveled over her breasts and washed her arms. Through the generations of selective breeding, Esk women no longer grew body hair, and the men rarely did as well because of it. As she washed his manhood it came to life again and he pulled her up onto his lap. Her nipples were hard as stone as he entered her again, and she rode him slowly. Their climax came after the water had gotten cold and out of the tub they again took each other in their arms on the bed. It was dark now and this time he did kiss her, in the blackness of night, and they came together again. she panted into his mouth as he thrust and she clawed at his back. When he erupted that last time, the third time in only a little over an hour, he was completely spent. The sun was bright through the window when they awoke. At his stirring Talra was immediately awake, sliding out of bed and washing the night’s activities from her thighs. She went down to prepare his breakfast for the long road ahead. He came down after dressing and ate, feeding Talra, then went to the market to restore their provisions. He had enough money left to hold them for months, but he wanted to stretch it out, unsure how long it would be before they had their own home. Once they had food and water supplied they mounted their horses and headed west, towards the sea.
The hamlet of Gure was at the westernmost edge of the Eskian realm. South and west of Port Uro itself, it was small, and out of the way, so much so that it seldom received any visitors, and had only a tavern instead of a proper inn. It was there were Hek and Talra stopped, one cloudy late afternoon. Hek asked for room for the night, but the tavern keeper could only offer him bench space. He said, “It will have to do.” Talra looked around, there was only 2 kisa, both were fully clothed. Their outfits were open on the sides, as was normal, but were of a thick, warm wool. She could see why; the days had turned cold. The closer to the sea they got the more it seemed to be cold, and the mornings foggy. She looked at Hek, wondering if she should disrobe or not, but he was busy tending to the horses outside, as they did not have a stable. His last command on the matter had been she was to behave as a traditional kisa, so she stripped down naked except for the gold, filigree collar, and set her clothes by the door entrance. She went in and started to prepare Hek a meal.
Hek was just finishing with the horses when he saw a man and woman approach. They were obviously not Eskian, he would guess Ossian from the manner of the woman who looked about as inviting as a bear. She was even wearing pants, warm wool ones the Ossians wore for travel. He bowed his head politely in greeting as they walked past and followed them into the tavern. Talra brought Hek his meal, ready by the time he sat down. The Ossian male, apparently mistaking Talra for a barmaid, said “Bring me some warm mead, and some hot tea for my wife, girl.” Talra blinked a couple times, then bowed her head slightly and turned back to the kitchen. She would never disobey any male, ever. Especially not in front of her man. She could not bear the thought that she would bring him shame, but this was the problem with Ossians. There was nothing wrong with his over clothed kisa that she couldn’t have gotten him his mead herself.
Hek had just gotten inside from tending to the horses. It had been a part of his military training: There could be times where all he could count on was his horse, and it had to be well tended. Hek watched the exchange between the foreigner and Talra, and as she started to move, Hek said in Eskian, “stay, Talra.” Then, looking at the man, Hek said, calmly, “Tell me, foreigner, is it the use of your lands to rape indiscriminately?” For in Esk, to use a kisa without asking the kar first was regarded as rape, and the kar could, if he wanted, take the rapist’s life then and there, and no blame would be assigned to him. “I did not hear you ask me for permission to use my kisa. Do you intend to rape my kisa, foreigner?” Hek’s hand went to the hilt of his short sword, but he did not draw it, not until he had heard the stranger’s response. The man looked at Hek in shock then up at Talra. “Certainly not!” he seemed surprised at the thought of the idea. “I apologize if that was what was intended, I had assumed she was a serving girl.” One of the tavern owner’s kisa quickly arrived at the table. “Would the man and his… Companion enjoy some food and drink, this evening?” she said demurely, giving a glance to Talra, who immediately moved to Hek and dropped to her knees beside him.
“You are going to get us killed, we shouldn’t have come here,” the woman hissed at the man angrily and Talra blanched. If she had dared take that tone of voice with her man her would lay the skin on her back open.
“Yes, warm mead and tea, and whatever is hot and ready for food,” he said quickly to the kisa, who bowed and moved away. The tavern keeper was watching keenly. Being so close to Port Uro had made him accustomed to having foreigners visiting, but still there was a lot for them to learn and he hoped this wouldn’t end in bloodshed. Hek said, “with me, Talra,” and then, surprisingly, he went and sat down at the other end of the foreigner’s table. He then made a sign, pointing to his left, an Eskian quiet command for the kisa to kneel. Hek looked at the foreigner and said in common tongue, “Foreigners should be more careful in assuming when visiting other lands. Ignorance and… Hubris… Do not make for good travel partners.” That was the Eskian way, to defend what belonged to the kar, but not be quick to violence. Talra watched all this curiously, and a bit nervously. Hek’s voice had a dangerous tone, but she didn’t speak the common language and didn’t know what was being said. The man nodded. “Good idea, my apologies again. Perhaps, you might even be able to help me with this then.” He produced a small bag of coins and set it on the table.
“My name is Theodore Hasker, I am moving to Port Uro and hoping to set up a decent trade practice with Oss and Esk. I could use a… Guide I suppose you could call it. Someone who can steer me around the local customs so I do not make such mistakes in the future. I have a home in Port Uro. I could use a strong man with a good sword arm, and even your girl would be of use, my wife can’t cook to save her life.” The woman huffed and scowled at this, which only brought a chuckle from Hasker.
“I can offer you five coins of silver a month, plus room and board,” Hasker said. “More if business picks up. If you cannot I understand, but perhaps you might know someone who would be interested.”
Hek took the bag. He hefted it and opened it, and saw the coins in it. Five silver coins, all from the only coinage in Esk, Esk’s mint. “I am new to this part of the western Moffate, and I am looking for work myself. Kar Theodore, you have a deal,” said Hek. He paused and said, “Your… Companion best not show her face in the streets, though.”
Hasker looked at his wife. “Well, I don’t think I can convince her of dressing as your Eskian beauties do,” he glanced at Talra “… Or don’t. What would you recommend?”
“Do I get a say in this?” Mrs. Hasker asked.
“No,” both men said in unison.
Talra meanwhile was feeling very scared. She didn’t know Hek had just gotten the break they needed, a perfect hiding place with an honest merchant who could house them. All she saw was Hasker motioning to her, offering a bag of coin, and Hek nodding and taking the coin. Surely he wouldn’t sell her so quickly. Maybe he was renting her to the merchant for the night. That might be it, the woman looked both offended and peeved, though Talra assumed she always looked like that. Once Hek and Hasker were through speaking, Hek looked at Talra. He said to her, in Eskian, “we depart from here at first light. This foreigner has hired me, and you will cook for him and his kisa, who apparently cannot properly cook. You will never be available to him in the way you are to me.” Hek then looked at Hasker. In the common tongue Hek said, “My kisa is not available for anything else that is not cooking and helping in the house. If you should fancy her use in other ways, follow proper custom and ask me.” Hasker smiled and nodded. He couldn’t deny the thought had crossed his mind, after all Talra was incredibly beautiful, and naked. But like most men it had flashed through his mind as an “I wonder” statement and then was gone as briefly. He hadn’t even considered Talra as being available, not that his wife would let him. he had a lot to learn about Esk.
“So what is your name, friend?” Hasker asked.
Hek had been thinking about this for days. He would need a new name for him. Talra not so much, she was kisa and it was doubtful his father even remembered her, let alone her name. And Talra was a common enough name. After a moment of thought, Hek said, “My name is Tarl.”
At first light, after a very uncomfortable night on the wooden bench of the tavern, Hek, Talra, Hasker and his wife set out towards Port Uro. They arrived there a bit later than the sixth hour from dawn. The air was thick, the smell of brine from the sea was new to Talra’s nose. The sky was overcast, as it was most days and the ocean a calm, placid green. Talra stared out at the water in awe. She had no idea it could be so big, and the enormity of the world and her small place it in came crashing down on her. Hasker’s shop wasn’t large, but the building was as half of it was warehouse. He gathered a group of local roughnecks who were hired to unload and load freight around and introduced Hek, the new foreman. The men immediately recognized a soldier when they saw one and placed a fist over their heart, swearing to support and obey Hek. Talra immediately set to setting up Hek’s room how he liked it, sparse and efficient. She went to the kitchen and reorganized everything to where it would be more functional before preparing a list of supplies that were missing.
The wife, Tamika, immediately set into Hasker about Talra. “You have to do something about that girl. I appreciate the help and all, but she walks around completely naked!”
“I see nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled.
“Theodore!”
“Look, it is their way, their custom. And this is THEIR country,” he said with a sigh. “We knew this when we moved here that they would…”
“I was against this from the start! I said we should trade between ports in Oss!”
“There are only 3 port cities in Oss, and each already has a huge supply of traders! But there is hardly any trade between Oss and Esk, especially after those slave rings were discovered by the queens of Rothan. This is our chance to make a huge difference, not just in the trade, but between our countries. Ossians don’t trust Esk because of the slavers and Eskians don’t trust Oss… well I am not sure why. We have a chance to bridge those gaps!”
“Some gaps shouldn’t be bridged,” she said, in typical Ossian fashion. “Now do something about that naked little… Trollop in my kitchen or I will.” She turned and stormed out of his office. Hasker just chuckled. He would like to see a fight between his wife and that “trollop”, maybe Talra could teach his wife a few things about manners.
Hek smiled to himself. The men Theodore had hired were all former soldiers, veterans of several wars with Oss, and by the way they behaved or walked Hek could tell that something had happened to them for them to not be in active duty anymore. Indeed, one was missing a few fingers of one hand, another had a black eyepatch, a third one had a peg leg and the fourth one had a big scar on his face that had affected his left eye, leaving it blind. “Warriors of Esk,” said Hek. “I am Tarl, and I will be leading you. You bear scars of your service to the Land. You have my respect.” Hek paused, and then continued: “I myself cannot serve the Land anymore. But we can show the foreigner who pays us that Eskians are men of honor, who follow the Hadith: ‘If a kar cannot fight, let him behave in such a way that each of his acts shows he is a follower of the way of the gods, the only truth on the land, and the only honorable way to live.’ I will not say what is forbidden, you know what is and is not. Do not force me to punish you. It would wound me to punish a brother of arms. That is all.” Hek dismissed the men, and set out to make a thorough inventory of what was held in the warehouse.
Two days later there was a shout from the house. Hek had been in the warehouse, overseeing a recently shipment with Hasker. Upon rushing into the house they found Tamika and Talra faced off. Tamika had a large swath of cloth in her hand and was shaking it at Talra, who was backed against the wall shaking her head. Upon seeing the men both women began yelling.
“That little fiend attacked me for trying to put her in a dress!” Tamika roared.
“She was trying to slip a bag over my head!” Talra cried. Neither was speaking the same language.
Hek frowned and said “My side Talra.” He waited for her to get to his side, and then spoke, slowly, to the other woman:
“Companion of Theodore. You are a foreigner in this land. Talra is my servant, and obeys me. Not you, and not your man. Me. Talra is a perfectly trained servant and her state pleases me.”
“Well, this is my house! and it does not please me!” Tamika actually screamed at Hek. Hek knew Ossian women were misbehaved and spoiled, but this was the first time any woman had ever raised his voice to him. He was momentarily stunned. Talra however had had enough and she moved like a blur from Hek’s side, knowing she would be punished later but this was the very last straw.
“She will obey me and listen to…” and that was as far as Tamika got. Talra landed a slap across Tamika’s face that was so loud it was heard outside. The force of the blow snapped Tamika’s head around and she fell on her ass against the wall. Talra, naked and furious stood over the prone woman. In Eskian, she snarled, “I am first kisa in this house, until you can prove worthy of the title,” she hissed with nothing but venom; her tone, although foreign and not understandable, was enough to make Tamika recoil. “You can speak to me any way you wish, and how you speak to your man is entirely his own fault, but if you EVER speak to my man that way again I will remove your rude, mean little tongue from your head so you can never disrespect anyone ever again.” She grabbed Tamika’s dress and tore it right down the middle, then looked at Hasker. “Translate please.”
Hasker stared at Talra. He had never seen anyone move so fast or with such grace and anger at the same time. He glanced at Hek, then back at Tamika and repeated it… Word for word. Tamika was trying to cover her breast, and Hasker said with force. “Leave it. It is about time we started thinking Eskian, since we live here now.”
As Hasker translated Talra walked back to Hek and the flickering anger in her eyes, the red in her cheeks, gave her a whole new beauty that had Hek instantly hard. “Worst… Kisa… Ever…” she hissed as she went back to his side and brooded.
Hek limited himself to nodding. He took Talra’s wrists, and put them above her head, crossed. He held both wrists with one hand. With no anger in his voice, Hek said, “You acted like a first kisa would act. For that I am pleased. Yet you acted without my instruction, so for this you will be punished.” Hek’s hand spanked Talra, three times. As loud as Talra’s slap to Tamika’s face was loud, Hek’s hand was heavier, and he hit hard. SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! Hek then turned to Theodore. He said, in Eskian, “That is enough punishment for a kisa who asserted herself without being ordered to.” In common speech, Hek said to Tamika, “Companion of Theodore. You must learn the proper behavior for your gender in this land. You will learn with Talra the ways of your gender, and you will never speak out of place again if you and your man wish to continue to draw breath in this land.”
Talra accepted her spanking with stoic silence, but her tears flowed down her cheeks and she kept her eyes down. Hasker nodded and said to Tamika. “You will learn from Talra how to behave. I have far too much invested in this company to let you ruin it out of stubborn pride.”
Hek took Talra by her crossed wrists, pulled her into his room and shut the door. She looked… Excited.
They had furious sex. Hot and hard. When it was over, both of them were exhausted. The following days Talra spent teaching Tamika how to be a kisa. It was hard work, the woman was stubborn and the language was a barrier. Talra was teaching her the Eskian language, trying to, but Tamika was a stubborn learner. Finally, after 10 days, they discovered that Tamika had run away. Presumably on a ship back to Oss. It was not long after that the Talra, with a smile on her face, greeted Hek kneeling, her arms crossed above her head, which was on the floor.
“Yes, Talra, you may speak,” Hek, who was in the warehouse at the moment with the rest of the men.
“There would be good reason to visit the teller, kar,” she said, barely able to contain the excitement in her voice.
The men clapped Hek on the back, whooping and congratulating him.
“Teller?” Hasker asked in confusion. Unlike his wife Hasker had learned Eskian rather easily.
“The teller can determine if a kisa is with child,” Hek said with a wide grin. “Talra, are you sure?”
“No, kar, but it has missed the monthly flow by a week now, and it is pretty regular about it.”
Hek nodded. He stayed silent for a while, and then he looked at Talra. “It will be done.” Then Hek looked at Hasker, and Hasker said, “Take care of your affairs, kar Tarl.” Grinning, Hek took Talra’s leash, clipped it to her filigreed gold collar, and led her to the merchant district of Port Uro.
It was a large district, teeming with grocers, barbers, blacksmiths, leatherworkers, dye makers, steel workers, collar makers, inkers and tellers. The trade of the teller was one of the most mysterious in Esk. A teller could, by touching and smelling her, tell whether she was carrying child. Tellers, though tradesmen, were in reality part of the guild of physicians, and were trained in guild academies throughout Esk. The skill of a teller was uncommon, and as such their services were sometimes expensive to secure.
Hek looked at the two tellers who had set up activity in Port Uro. He pondered, then went in to the one with the larger shop.
The man behind the counter was a serious-looking, swarthy fellow with short cropped hair and bearing at his waist the blue sash of the guild of physicians. “Good day, kar,” he said. “Please make yourself comfortable, I will be with you in a moment.” The man disappeared behind a curtain, then after a few minutes he reappeared, wearing a pair of gloves. “Please unleash your kisa, kar. I will bring it to the rear, examine it and tell if it is with child.” Hek nodded and unleashed Talra, then said, “go with him, my kisa.”
Talra followed the other man silently, clad only in one of the outfits Hek had bought for her: a red tet, the traditional garment of kisa, cut much like the white one Talra had worn the day Hek had won her.
The examination room was very white and clean. There were physician tools, as was common with the tellers they also served as doctors. He had Talra lay down on a table and open her legs. He poked and prodded, but there was nothing sexual about it. No man of Esk would dare take privileges with another’s kisa. He used an ear scope to listen to her heart, then her tummy. The entire examination took only a few moments, then he led her back to Hek.
“She is with child, kar, you have done well. It is still too early to tell if it will be boy or girl, we will see. Bring her back each new moon to see how she is progressing.”
Hek nodded and paid the teller for his service, 6 copper coins, then said, “Praised be he who brings fertility,” and the teller said, “hallowed be his name.” Hek leashed Talra, and went back to Hasker’s warehouse. Once there, he called Hasker. “Kar Hasker! Kar Hasker!” Hasker came out of his office almost at once and said, “Well?” to which Hek said, “Talra is with child.” He said it as a matter of fact, and looked at Talra, but what glinted in Hek’s eyes was not casual. It was that something that Hek could not name, that something that he felt for Talra, whenever he took her, whenever he watched her serve him.
Hasker grinned widely. He said, “Let us pray that it is a boy, Tarl.” Hek nodded, and said, “I will pray for that.”
As Hek built a life for himself in Port Uro, his father had assumed the worst. When Hek didn’t arrive at the Fort in the mountains he had assumed Hek had been killed. But nobody had ever been found, even the horses were never recovered. Using all his considerable resources he had scouts scour the land between their city and the Fort and no sign of Hek ever came, nor any witnesses to his passing. Perhaps he had been kidnapped, but then there was no ransom. He would not give up however until either his son or his corpse was returned to him.
Then, as winter set in, there came word. A rumor really, but the first lead they had had. A man at a tavern had claimed to have seen someone matching Hek’s description, but in the other direction. Hek’s father sent a small scouting party west to investigate.
Talra was not showing yet; but she had a glow to her that was unmistakable: It was the glow of a kisa with child. Her breasts had swollen, and in the mornings she was often nauseous. Hek did not stop caring for her, he could not, his seed was growing inside Talra, growing into, hopefully, a boy to perpetuate Hek’s line. Hasker was a fair boss, and once he understood the ways of Esk, and perhaps to compensate for Tamika’s departure he had bid on a tateena at the monthly Hek-Na-Kisa. Hasker had been outbid, though.
The Teller was sure it would be a boy, but reminded Hek the knowledge was never certain. In fact, there was only a sixty-five percent success rating in even the best of teller of accurately predicting the sex of the baby before it was born. Still Talra was confident. She claimed it felt strong and powerful already.
Her fear had been Hek’s desire for her while being pregnant. In her opinion pregnant women were just, well, fat. But Hek’s hunger for her was even greater, if it could be. He used her often; sometimes, when she brought in ale for the men, Hek would bend her over one of the boxes and take her from behind, never though where her belly was touching the box. He also treated Talra like she was made of glass. It is often humorous, both to outsiders and to Eskians as well, that the men, who were very masculine and strong, would take a complete reversal should their kisa get pregnant. Talra often found herself shooing her man out of the kitchen when he would get overly helpful.
One day Hek and 3 of his men were unloading wheat from Port Urnso off the boat and onto a cart to take it to the baker when a man approached. His name was Putlo, a regular patron of the tavern where the roughnecks would go after a hard day at the docks. Hek went there sometimes, but not much. His men went there a lot.
“Tarl! I thought I would find you here,” Putlo waved.
“Hail, Putlo. How finds your day?”
“My day is fine. Got a lot of work to do,” Putlo said, which was an old, ongoing joke. Putlo had lost a leg in some war and his “work” was sitting at the tavern, drinking himself into a stupor. “I thought it would be nice to warn you, there was some men at the bar asking about some fellow named Hek who matched your description.”
Hek did not flinch. He had dreaded that such a day would come to pass, but the timing was inconvenient, like trouble usually was. With Talra expecting, his options to travel were less open. Horseback was out of the question, and walking would take too long. The only way to leave would be through the Sea, and up the Kassa, to the northern shores of Oss… Or the southern shores of the northern kingdom of Rothan, the one ruled by two queens. Suddenly Hek felt a need to get out of the tavern. He drank one last round, paid, and went outside to clear his head before returning to Hasker’s.
As Hek pondered, outside the tavern, still feeling the effects of a few tankards of hot spiced wine, he noticed two figures in capes approaching him. He was under a torch, and the moon was large in the clear, wintry sky, so Hek was more than able to see both figures approaching.
“Fair night, foreigners,” said Hek, cautiously.
“Fair night, kar,” said one of them, the taller of the two.
“Do you seek for lodgings for the night? There is a good inn down the street, the kisa are friendly, the ale is sweet, and the beds are proper. No foreigner slaves too.”
“Our thanks, friend,” said the tall man. “We will see into that inn you speak of, but we also seek someone.”
“Whom do you seek, friend?” said Hek.
“We seek…” the man paused and then said “We seek Harrik, son of Hunnerk, son of Memmon.” Harrik was Hek’s true name, and Hunnerk and Memmon were his father’s and grandfather’s true names. In Eskian society, having a man’s true name spoken, along with his lineage, was a summons. The one whose true name was spoken was bound to answer with nothing but the truth. Hek frowned. His eyelids closed, then opened, and then Hek said, “I am he.”
They seemed startled and one started for his sword, but was not looking at Hek, he was glancing off into the shadows, as if expecting an attack.
“Are you safe?” the tall one asked. “We were sent to locate you, and ascertain a rescue.” He then paused and added… “if needed.”
“No rescue is needed, I am safe and well,” Hek said and moved to walk past them. “Tell my father you found me.”
“You were not kidnapped then? Why did you not travel to the Fort?” he asked Hek’s back.
“My fate does not lie in the mountains,” Hek answered.
The men exchanged glances and went immediately to the scout party commander, who sent a messenger bird back to Lord Hunnerk.
Two days later, when the message bird arrived to Hunnerk’s home in Kef, he sighed, mumbling something about “when you needed something done right you have to do it yourself.” This sudden change of plan was very much not like Hek. His son had always had a plan, always obeyed he rules. Something was wrong. He tried to think back, to what might have changed in Hek’s life to spark such unwarranted behavior.
He slammed his fist down on the table and stood. “Prepare my fastest horse,” he roared. That kisa, he had been distant from his family ever since he had gotten her. She must’ve seduced him, turned his mind around. Obviously a witch of much great power. She shall be dealt with, swiftly and harshly. He shall get his son a new kisa, one who wasn’t so dangerous, if he wasn’t too late.
In Port Uro, the men sent by Hek’s father were not sure what to do. They had no orders to detain him, nor were they under any obligation to do anything about him other than to report that he had been found, and it would be four days before they knew anything from Hunnerk. So they went to the inn Hek had shown them. Once they were out of his sight, Hek frowned. He could not lose time, but he also did not want his father to start a manhunt for him. It would mean his kisa’s end, probably, and his exile, certainly. He had committed the First Mistake. He had allowed Love to enter his life.
The First Mistake hearkened back to the very root of the Hadith. It was said that this world was not the gods’ first attempt at creation. Their previous one, the World that Never Was, was an attempt of the Five, who then were Six, to create a perfect world. Nat, The God of Sun, Fen, the god of Moon, Ramug, the god of Fertility, Kassar, the god of the Sea, Buk, the god of war and the Underworld, and Tarke, the goddess of Love, joined forces to make the world out of the Night. In the beginning the world was perfect, and Ramug working with Tarle made all living things beautiful and perfect, and also made Man and Woman.
But Tarke wanted every living thing in the world to love her, so she seduced all of the gods, who started to argue about how everything should be made so that all things were a hymn to them, but loved Tarke. Their discord ended up tearing the world apart, and the gods had found Tarke had seduced them all, and so it was that the Five judged Tarke after the world was undone, and found her guilty of being a whore, and turning all against each other to reach her own ends. Combining their powers, Tarke was banished, and love would never be a part of the world again.
And so the remaining Five joined forces again, and a second world was created, but there was no luster in the creatures’ eyes, and they did not multiply. Worried, the Five got together, and once again argued about what was happening. It was Ramug who then said, “The creatures lack a purpose. Brothers, the creatures must be given a purpose.” The gods pondered about what to do, until once again Ramug came with the answer. “To give the creatures a purpose, the female must always serve the male, her service to him is to give him sons to further his line, and please him in all things, and he will care for her when she bears his fruit, and call her his. This is not Tarke’s fire, nothing will replace her, but it will make the world perpetual.” And so it was, and it was good in the eyes of the Five. For that reason, kisa are sacred to Ramug: Because he gave females a purpose in the world, and allowed it to thrive.
So it was that that night Hek, after looking at Talra and admiring her glow and the budding belly that marked her pregnancy, sat down at his desk and wrote to his father a long letter.
“To Hunnerk from Herrik, I write to you in the hopes you are well. Your men have reached me in Port Uro. I am well, but I cannot dare to let you see me. I have committed a great sin, I committed the First Mistake. I allowed Love to enter my life, and as such my life in Esk is over.”
“I have always up to now considered myself to be a good follower of the Hadith. I have been honorable and I have been dutiful to the Five and to the Land. This now has ended. I may be native to the Land, but since I have fallen from the Hadith, I am no longer Eskian, nor your son. Harrik is no longer. I am now Tarl, a foreigner, a heathen.”
“Do not search for me, Hunnerk son of Memmon. It would only bring you disgrace and death, for the Hadith so mandates it, that a heathen’s family shall carry his sin even if only by seeing him.”
“Your line is not ended, however. He who was Herrik’s brother, Marrak, is training in the academy. He will serve the land as well as Harrik did.”
“Be well, and farewell, Hunnerk son of Memmon son of Tarrog.”
Hek signed it with his new name, Tarl. He folded the letter and put it in an envelope, and sealed it with his ring.
The next day Hek sought his father’s… No… Hunnerk was no longer his father. He was Hatur, which was his use name. Hek sought the scouts sent by his father, and gave them the letter. He said, “Give him the letter when he arrives. Keep it in a safe place.” When the scouts had left, Hek… No… Tarl, his name was Tarl now… Tarl went to Hasker. He said, “I am leaving Port Uro, kar Hasker. My fate is no longer written in the Land.” Hasker nodded. “You have been a good man, Tarl. I will miss you sorely, for under you there never was a more thriving trade house than mine.” Tarl nodded. He extended his hand. “So that we may meet again, kar Hasker.” Hasker took Tarl’s hand by the wrist and held it, and Tarl did the same with Hasker’s. “May you find where your fate is written, kar.” It was the traditional, Eskian farewell. Tarl nodded. Hasker gave Tarl his commission for his time working with him: Fifty gold coins, a small fortune.
With his commission stored in a small strong box small enough to carry, Tarl went to his home. Talra was there, busy with her duties. Tarl said, “It is time, my kisa. We must leave posthaste. We finish this meal and then we depart on the next ship.” The next ship, however, was not due for two days.
The day after meeting Hek, the 2 scouts reported to Malak. Malak pondered this for a long while after the bird left. His orders had been clear, at least at first. But things had become muddy quickly. Travel west, find Hek. If he had been kidnapped secure his rescue and report back. Hek had not been kidnapped, at least that was the first sign. But Malak was an old war veteran, had served with Hunnerk in the Thirty Day War. He knew Hek, had known him since birth. He was a shining example of the Hadith. He was the type of man who other men aspired to be, and at such a young age. His father was Lord of the Mountain Realms, next in line to be Moff of the West. Hek had everything going for him. This made no sense.
Kiruk walked up and sat down at Malak’s table without permission, leaned back and kicked his legs up onto the table. Malak scowled. Everything Hek was, Kiruk was not. He was an honorless mercenary given to rash acts of brutal, thoughtless violence. In the military people like Kiruk found a calling, doing the dirty deeds that sometimes needed to be done when honor got in the way.
“Did you find him?”
“Aye, General,” Kiruk smiled that greasy, smarmy smile he thought was endearing. “He works on a dock, for a merchant of the north, named Hasker.”
“And his home?”
“A true home. He is lord of his house, there is no one there who took him by force. Unless that pretty little blonde kisa did,” Kiruk chuckled.
Malak nodded, he remembered the kisa from her brief visits with Hek to his father’s estate. “She is still there? He turned his back on his family, his heritage and birthright, but he kept his kisa.”
“Can’t blame him,” Kiruk shrugged. “According to the men who work in the warehouse the foreigner owns she is quite… Well, let’s just say Hek cannot keep his hands off her.”
“That good?”
“I wouldn’t know, wouldn’t mind finding out,” Kiruk chuckled. “The men say that hardly an hour goes by that those two are not stealing off together.”
“He is probably trying to continue…”
“No, he has already done so, the kisa is long with child, though longer to go still,” Kurik interrupted.
Malak leaned back in his own chair. “What kisa would make a man give up everything that matters?”
“The worst kind,” Kurik said. “You think it seduced him?”
“If it has, then he has indeed been kidnapped,” Malak nodded. “And that makes my life much easier. Tomorrow, when he leaves, bring the kisa here. I will have a discussion with it, and Kiruk… It is to be brought here unbroken, understand?”
Kiruk gave a salute. “Of course my general.”
Tarl stepped outside his home and turned to look at Talra. His kisa was radiant and fearful. He nodded to her and turned, heading to the harbormaster’s office to find when the next ship was to leave. The moment he had turned the corner there was a knock on the door. Talra had just filled a bowl with flour, had yet to add anything else. She thought it might be one of the men from the warehouse and wiped her hands off on her legs before opening the door. A man with a scar down the side of his face smiled at her, a smarmy smile.
“This is the house of Tarl?”
She nodded and stepped aside to let him in but he just stood there. “You are his kisa.” It was not a question, as his eyes traveled up and down. She was still so young, fresh and small. Her hair was almost golden in color and her blue eyes seemed to fill the room with color. If there was ever a seducer it would be this one. “Someone wants to speak with you.”
She blinked rapidly in confusion. She pointed to herself and he nodded. “B… But… Kar said it was not to leave without his permission. If the kar would care to wait when he returned, he can…”
“No, he wants to speak to you… Alone, Koa,” he smiled and she felt her skin crawl. She of course went with him, willingly. Refusing an order of a kar was not allowed, even if it went against the orders of her man. Such was always the difficulty of being kisa. He led her out of town, completely naked without even her silks. Her eyes traveled on every street, looking for Hek.
She came to a small camp, an army camp. Not a large unit, it must be a scouting party, she thought. She was escorted to a tent and pushed inside. The man looked familiar and she went down to her knees, bowing.
“You wished to…”
“Koa, my name is General Malak, of Hatur’s advanced scouts,” he said gruffly. “My lord’s… OUR Lord’s son, Hek, your man I believe… Has decided to leave his heritage behind. All that his father has worked for. Do you have any idea why?”
Talra shook her head, looking confused. “No, kar, it has … Its kar has not seen fit to…”
“The correct question I suppose isn’t why… It is what. What did you do to him to turn his head?”
“It does not understand,” she said quickly, her greatest fear was coming true.
“Do you deny using seduction powers to manipulate your kar into doing your will? To steal him from his family? What did you do to poison his heart, whore!?”
“It did nothing, general. It is not a whore! It…”
“Lies!” He yelled and grabbed her by her hair, yanking it back. He hit her across her face. Not hard enough to knock her senseless, but enough to scare her. “What did you do!” He roared.
“It… It was a… Kiss,” she sobbed, and he let her go, nodding.
“Kurik, take the whore to the cave. Keep her there, Lord Hek will be arriving shortly. I don’t want her in camp when him and I talk. He must face the Seduction test.”
Kurik stepped inside from where he was listening and grabbed Talra’s arm, dragging her out to a cave that had been set up of supplies near the camp, but far enough away that if she did something stupid she would not be heard.
“Perhaps he will not pass the test, and then he will have to be imprisoned and face his father. If he does pass, maybe he would be interested in a trade. It would do well to prove you did not seduce him if he gave you away. But don’t worry, whore. I will make sure you have a good home.” He laughed.
Tarl was busy at the pier making the final arrangements for his departure. In two more days, he would be on his way, away from the Land. It was appropriate. As he reached home, two men bearing his father’s colors were waiting at the door.
“Herrik, son of Hunnerk, son of Mennon,” one said. Hek flinched.
“It is I,” Tarl said.
“Come with us, kar. Come peacefully, and you won’t be harmed.”
“And if I don’t?” asked Tarl.
“If you don’t, by my true name I will drag you to where I need you to be.” Swearing by one’s true name meant that he and the other would die trying to fulfill their duty.
Hek sighed. “I will come,” he said.
Both men escorted Hek out of Port Uro, and towards the scouts’ camp. Hek observed it, it was well laid out, and these men were probably veterans from the Ten Year War with Oss fifteen years ago. The two scouts led Tarl towards the largest tent in the camp, and led him in.
“General Malak,” said Hek, coldly. “I wish I could have seen you under… Better… circumstances.”
Malak motioned everyone out of the tent. Once all were gone, Malak said, “Herrik, you know my true name, you may use it.”
Hek sighed. “Asdan. I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to see you.”
“Herrik, what is this about?” Malak shook the letter. It had been opened.
“You had NO RIGHT to open my letter!” Hek exploded.
“Probably not. But I was given quite a bit of latitude by your father, including…” Malak snapped his fingers. “Bring it to me,” he said.
Hek knew then this would be a test. Two men brought Talra into the tent after a few minutes.
“I believe this one seduced you, Hek.” Malak stared at hek fixedly. “I believe it is time for the test of seduction. And the test for you is, give the kisa to me and my men for the remainder of the day and the night.”
Hek was boiling inside. Facing this test, though, was the only way that he could possibly leave Esk, and so he looked at Talra, and then with his best marka face he said “Use it as you please for the rest of today and its night.”
Talra looked up at Hek, her eyes wide with fear and pain. Then she lowered her eyes to the floor. Malak studied Hek, he had seen this happen before. He nodded. “You are my guest. Hesa, bring us ale.” An older kisa bowed and began to pour two meads as Malak led Hek outside into the main area of the camp. He clapped his hands and the men gathered. “Lord Hek has been most generous, and offered the use of his kisa to the company.” Talra was dragged out and a cheer went up. She turned pale, there must have been twenty men. Her legs trembled and she would have fallen if she was not being held up.
“It is ours for the day, the night, and the rest of tomorrow. I expect it to know the meaning of pleasure, at all times. It is to know no rest, no comfort.”
The men chuckled at this and she was tossed into the center of a circle of gathering men. One by one they began to strip down. As they did Malak made a motion to a log that had been rolled over as a bench. “You will remain… As my guest. To make sure your kisa behaves, as a kisa should. It is as much its test as yours. It does not look excited to be pleasing so many men. Is it not right for a kisa to want all men to be pleased? Perhaps you can convince it to show more effort.”
Hek looked at Talra. He could only keep up his marka face for so long until his real emotions got the best of him. He limited himself to nod to Talra, and tried to stay still. This would be a long night, or a short one. Hek did not know yet how would he react.
Talra lowered her head. She was kisa… Kisa… Just… Just an it. She turned and took the first man in her hand and began to stroke him. Another filled her other hand as one of the men grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Smile kisa, I want to see you happy to please me.” She forced a smile, but her bright eyes darkened sadly and as he forced himself inside her mouth a tear ran down her cheek. More hands grabbed her, squeezing her breasts and pulling at them in different directions. Someone grabbed her hips and lifted her up as another penis filled her free hand. “I will be gentle with the child, congratulations my lord.” he said over his shoulder and thrust into Talra hard.
She was taken brutally; the men were not kind. It was to be a punishment; they all knew the score. Hek himself had once partaken of such an orgy, where they had rousted a group of bandits and the men had taken turns with the seven kisa the bandits had to their charge. Talra was pulled and twisted, her mouth was never empty for long. She was lifted and lowered, a man pushing up into her as another took her anal passage. She was slapped in the head when she didn’t moan in heat, spanked on her ass, face, legs, and breasts repeatedly. After the second hour they stopped caring if she moaned in heat and after the fourth she was allowed to cry. By sundown she had swallowed so much semen she was feeling sick and the men were getting tired. Most had used her at least twice. Malak called one of his men over and whispered something to him, and within the hour the man had returned with two large wooden phalluses he had taken from the town.
Talra was made to dance for the men, and use the phalluses, until the men were ready again. She was raped late into the night and then Hek was sent home, and Talra to Malak’s own tent.
By sundown Hek’s blood was boiling. He could no longer take it, and then he knew it deep in his heart, down to his loins. Talra was not just a kisa to him. It was the kisa he was meant to spend the rest of his days with, the one who carried his seed, his first, his only. Hek would no longer allow Talra to be a silent, voiceless, vulnerable servant to any man. He would have her as his kisa, and his kisa alone. And he felt so because he loved her. So what if that made of him a renegade and a heathen? He went quickly to his home and grabbed a black cape, several throwing daggers, a long knife, and a short sword. Occasionally he had done such things before, disposing of enemies through stealth and quiet. Hek returned to the camp. Most men were asleep, tired out by the repeated forcing of Talra, and were asleep by the glowing fire. One man was lazily patrolling. Staying away from the weak light of the fire, Hek stealthily moved behind the guard and put a hand on his mouth. Just as he started to struggle Hek said softly, “Wrong choice.” The guard’s neck made a sound… CROCK… To Hek it was loud, but no one noticed. The guard was dead even before he knew it. Hek looked at the camp again, and heard Talra’s moans coming from Malak’s tent. He disappeared into the shadows again, and discreetly cut open the back of Malak’s tent with his long knife.
There was Malak, using Talra brutally, humping her like a dog taking a bitch in heat. Hek was quiet, and Malak was firmly held from behind, a hand covering his mouth. Talra had made as if to scream, but a stern look from Hek made her stay quiet in terror. Hek dragged Malak out of the tent, deep into the copse of trees the scouting party had chosen to camp in, and just whispered to him, “Permission revoked.” With that Hek snapped Malak’s neck, and the general slumped, dead before he even knew it. Malak quickly entered the tent and took Talra away, sticking to the darkest shadows. Only when they were back in Port Uro did Hek speak again. “We leave everything behind except my strongbox. Wait here and stick to the shadows, mine.” Hek advanced stealthily, and surely enough there was a scout in front of Hek’s door. A throwing knife to the throat dealt with him silently, and Hek entered his house only to exit a minute later. One ship was leaving, bound towards Port Nala, the largest port city of Rothan. Hek and Talra got into the ship just in time. The boatswain spotted them at once. “No stowaways on this ship!” To which Hek said “I won’t stow away, I will work where you need me and my kisa over there is a mighty good cook. She’s off limits in other ways.” Hek opened his purse and gave the boatswain five silver coins. “For having gotten here late,” he said. The boatswain was only too happy to have two able hands on board, and so the ship started outward bound to the North.
Talra had been running through a nightmare. She was in more pain than she thought possible and was sure she was bleeding, but it was just the sperm of the soldiers dribbling out of her. She needed to throw up, bathe, and sleep… She needed food, she wanted a drink. But more than anything she wanted to scream, cry, curl up into a ball and just die. She looked at Hek, her crystal clear, blue eyes now dark and full of pain, fear and… Anger? She bowed her head and dragged her shaking legs to the galley to prepare breakfast for when the crew awoke. She was kisa, and there would be time to heal, clean, and eat later…. Then maybe some rest. Maybe.
Morning came and they were far out and away from Port Uro. The shore was a thin line in the distance, racing slowly by them. The sailors awoke to find fresh porridge and warm bread. The young kisa with the battered face and dark, sad eyes got a few looks, but she was just kisa. They were sure whatever her owner did to her was well deserved.
Breakfast finally over, Talra cleaned the galley and was left alone to sleep. She barely had the energy to crawl under the sink and close her eyes. Despite the pain she saw in, she was asleep instantly.
Hek slept on a sack of potatoes. He slept like the dead, physically and mentally exhausted. But there was no longer a weight in his heart. He had played a gambit, and he had won. Esk was forever closed to him now, but he had with him something… No… Someone… Someone who filled him with that unknown feeling that made his walk spry and his heart light.
In the morning he went down to the galley. He found Talra under the sink, fast asleep, covered in caked sperm, dirty, and bruised… But with him. He picked her up gently, and took her behind some barrels, out of the way. With a wet towel he cleaned her body thoroughly, leaving nowhere that he could reach not clean, removing all the dried sperm from her legs and swelling belly, . Likewise, with another wet towel, Hek moistened Talra’s hair again and again until it was shining, but so gently that Talra just shifted a bit in her sleep. Finally, using his knife, he made a crude dress, basically holes for her neck and arms, gently slipped it on, and cinched her waist with a rope. No one but him would see her disrobed anymore.
When Talra awoke, Hek was there. He stroked Talra’s hair, and smiled, and then he fed her with some porridge he had saved, and gave her a good drink of water from a sheepskin pouch. His first words to her were, “Forgive me.”
Talra awoke slowly, laying on the floor. Her hair and her body were clean, and she felt tenderness around her right eye and cheek. She wolfed down the porridge, and drank all of the water, and when Hek spoke, she looked up at Hek in confusion. “Kar, it cannot forgive you. You are mistaken, you have done nothing wrong. It was wrong to… Well, it must have done something wrong. Please, punish it kar. It would welcome any punishment, but please do not send it away.”
To Talra it was unquestionable that a man could commit an error. Perhaps he had been misinformed about something. She struggled to sit up, her head spinning a moment, but she managed to fall against Hek’s chest and curl into his arms. By the gods this was exactly what she needed and him holding her made the pain go away.
Hek held Talra close to him. There it was, that warmth in his chest, that knot in his throat. Always holding Talra, he said, “By my name, you will never have to go through what you went through, Talra. I… My…” For the first time in his life, Hek couldn’t find words to say what he was feeling and thinking. He breathed out and said, after a short pause, “Every fiber of my being will protect you, Talra. Because you… I…” Hek stumbled again. A sailor from Rothan who had been eavesdropping said, “Oh for Light’s sake man! just tell her that you love her and be done with it so I can sleep!”
Love? Was that it? Was that what Hek really felt for Talra? That warm feeling in his chest and that fluttering in his stomach? That sensation of his balls tightening whenever he laid his eyes on Talra?
The sailor studied them and shook his head. “Never been outside of Esk, have ye? You will learn what love is.” and walked away.
Talra cupped Hek’s face and kissed him softly, initiating the kiss for the first time, for it had always been him who kissed her. “It loves you, my kar. It knows you are always there to protect it. It tried to make the soldiers happy, for you. It was so scared that they would punish you for its failure. I… It is not a good kisa, it is not happy to make men happy. It only wants you to be happy. It… It would be lost without you.”
“You may not use ‘it’ anymore in my presence, Talra,” said Hek. “Use your name instead, I l… love… how it sounds.” Hek blinked. “I…” His voice was silenced by Talra’s kiss, intense, passionate, giving, but deep inside Hek knew what love meant. “I… I l… love you, Talra” said Hek, once the kiss was over, and Hek’s heart leapt inside his chest. After a long kiss which Hek initiated, he said, “Talra, we are bound north to Rothan, to live our lives from such skills as I have. The country is heathen country, and ruled by two kisa, but anything is better than Oss,” said Hek. “Also, from now on, I will be known as Tarl. Acknowledge, my Talra.”
“yes my kar, Talra understands. And maybe ruled by 2 kisa won’t be a bad thing. We are pretty much announcing that the gods were wrong in how we feel, aren’t we? Perhaps the spirit of Tarke lives inside Talra. Maybe… Maybe Talra is as evil as they say.” She got slowly to her feet and followed him out to talk to the captain.
“I recognize someone running away from someone, and I hope it won’t come back to harm me and my crew,” the captain said. “But I am a sucker for a young couple in love. Happened to me when I was about your age. You will need better clothes to fit into Rothan society, you look like a barbarian warrior and she looks like she is wearing a tablecloth.”
He gathered his men and they went through the stores for clothes, outfitting Hek as one of them. Talra was a bit harder, she absolutely refused to wear pants and none would fit her anyway. Without a dress the best they could do was a large man’s shirt tied at the waist with a belt. Her long, shapely legs were completely bare and whenever she would appear on deck men would drop things or walk into masts and railings.
“This is why it’s bad luck to have women at sea,” the captain chuckled to Tarl once as they stood and watched the crew making fools of themselves to impress her. But it was just playful flirting and Talra had eyes only for Hek.
It took the ship a full two weeks to reach Port Nala. When they arrived and docked, the captain said, “There are many things about Rothan that you do not know, Eskian. I suggest you wander the city and listen carefully. You speak the common language, so you should not do too badly. Remember though that in Rothan women are not servants and treating them as such will land you in trouble with the law.” Tarl nodded. “Thank you, k… captain.” Talra, at a nod from Tarl, said softly, smooth sailing, kar.” Tarl would have leashed Talra, but he had left his leash back in Port Uro, and here in Port Nala no woman was on a leash. So he said, “Follow close, Talra.”
With his strongbox, he went to a coin exchanger. Fifty Eskian gold coins were about forty Rothan gold coins. Tarl changed all but one Eskian gold coin, which he would always keep with him. The Rothan gold coins were unlike anything he had ever seen. Where the Eskian coins had on one side the face of the Grand Moff and on the other a pentagon that symbolized the Holy Five, Rothan crowns had on one side a crown and on the other a two-headed eagle, the union of the royal eagles of Lochlan and Rothan.
As it happened, that day was an important one, it was the tenth birthday of the Queen Anne’s firstborn, the heir to the crown, and the seventh birthday of the Queen Amy’s firstborn. As such it was a high holiday, and though the market stalls were open, they would not remain open much longer. Quickly, Tarl went to a dressmaker’s stall, and asked for a modest, ready to take dress for his companion. He told Talra, “choose wisely, mine” and stepped out.
“Choose?” Talra watched him walk away out and look back over the dresses. Making a decision had never been something she had experience at. She asked the sales lady, “whatever you feel that would make it… She… I look good in?” The woman did not understand a word of Talra’s Eskian, but smiled, and disappeared into the back of the shop.
She walked out after a few minutes with a simple, but cute, peasant’s dress in a bright blue that was a shade lighter than her eyes, which had long since regained their sparkle. The dress was a little longer in the front than around the back, but the lady said that it was designed so as her stomach grew the dress could be let out, and then taken back in after the baby was born.
Weeks later, Talra’s stomach had grown to look like she was carrying a cantaloupe and she found herself petting it on occasion. She was so excited about having Tarl’s son that she couldn’t contain it and beamed when anyone mentioned it. She stepped outside and saw Tarl standing on the far side of the street. She could only understand a few Rothan words and couldn’t read the sign above his head, so she had no idea he was a landlord, but she couldn’t read Eskian either. Women were not allowed to learn any of the intellectual arts. She hoped she could learn to read here, if Tarl allowed her.
She started to cross the street and there was a cry as a horse drawn carriage nearly trampled her. She fell back but someone caught her and pulled her away. A woman in a large white dress with dark blonde hair leapt from the carriage.
“Oh my goodness! Are you well?” she asked, but all Talra understood was “you.” But the woman didn’t sound angry. The man who had caught Talra gasped and started to bow. “Oh knock it off, I hate all the bowing.” Tarl raced across the street. “I am sorry for my… Wife, she really needs to watch where she is going.” He gave her a firm look.
“No harm, I love your accent! Are you from Coria? Handerland?” the woman in white asked.
Tarl still found it hard to lie. “Eskian,” he bowed slightly.
“Oh! This must be quite a change for you,” she smiled. “I am Amy, one of the queens, and since you are the first Eskians that Rothan has seen in a long time I invite you to come to the palace. I have all kinds of questions and I wish and hope to talk openly with you and your charming wife, to set aside any racial prejudices we may have. Right now I must run, terribly busy with royal junk and all.”
Tarl blinked in confusion. He had never heard a woman speak so fast and so much all at once. But he did admit, the best way to learn would to be to share information… And with none other than the Queen to boot. He would be able to judge the strength and power of Rothan and its rulers. It was a widely common belief in Esk that Rothan was a country run by the equivalent of monkeys. But the culture seemed to be thriving, judging by what he had seen so far.
“Where is the palace?” he asked as Amy climbed back into the carriage.
“Big white building, back there somewhere,” she giggled pointing back up the street.
Tarl wasted no time. He had to go to a barber, to have his beard cleaned up and trimmed, and told Talra that she should bathe and make herself beautiful. At around the eighth hour, Tarl and Talra were arriving on foot at the royal palace of Port Tala.
“Tarl and… Companion, invited to see the Queen,” said Tarl. He had not lost his martial ways, and stood like an Eskian warrior.
“You are expected. Please follow me,” said the guard. He led them across the large outer courtyard, through a gate, and into the inner courtyard. A turn to the left and pages opened a double door. “Tarl of Esk, and companion,” announced the guard. Tarl looked around. There were at least thirty people sitting at the table, and two women dressed in white with crowns on their heads were sitting at the best seats. “Please, sit down,” said one of the white clad women, the one with red hair. “We are honored to have you at our table, kar Tarl” she said, using the correct form to address an Eskian man. “I am Queen Anne, and to my left sits Queen Amy, whom you already have met.”
Tarl, in Eskian fashion, sat down first, then said, “Sit to my right, Talra.” Surrounding the queens there were their ministers and the prince consort, and two tutors, one for the older boy, and one for the younger one. When Talra sat down, Queen Amy and Queen Anne questioned Tarl about Esk, its costumes, and its religion. It wasn’t an interrogation, not by a long shot, but it was extensive, and Tarl was feeling talkative, so he shared all that he could divulge.
The queens avoided military matters, asking about culture and customs and never once about army and forces. Amy joked and laughed, but Talra sat still and quiet. Listening to them speaking in a language she didn’t know. Dinner was a fish dish that looked delicious, but Talra sat still and looked at her with her stomach rumbling.
“Is your wife going to eat?” Amy asked in concern.
“Our eating customs are very different,” he smiled and said to Talra in Eskian. “You may eat without me feeding you, Talra. It is appropriate here.”
Talra nodded and picked up her fork, mimicking the movements she had seen others do. She ate 2 helpings and smiled leaning back. The talk continued without her, but for a kisa this was normal. She was just relaxing when suddenly she gasped and placed her hands on her stomach.
Tarl immediately took hold of Talra. He looked at her in concern. “Is everything well, wife?” The way Tarl said “wife,” though, made it sound as if he was saying “mine.” Talra nodded softly. Months after having gotten out of Esk, the Eskian way was still deeply ingrained in both of them. Nor would it fade quickly. Tarl asked, “Is it time?” Talra looked down at her dress. The crotch area was completely moist. “Yes, husband” said Talra. It was not the first time Talra had used that word, but most times it had been in the bedroom, after Tarl had taken her and spent himself inside her.
Tarl looked around. He said, “My… Wife’s time to birth has come. She needs a midwife.”
Amy squealed and leapt up so quickly her chair flew over backward, rushing to Talra’s side. Anne, the calm one of the pair smiled and rang a bell, not that it was needed, the servants were always within earshot. “Get the royal doctor and a midwife, whoever is in town and available. Have the guest room made up to receive our guest… Plus one. We will need a bassinet now, we can get the rest later.”
The servant bowed and hurried off. Amy helped Talra to her feet with Tarl’s help and the four of them, with a guard, walked to the guest room. “Are you having contractions? Remember to breathe. What helped me was biting down on a stick. They even made it taste like cinnamon for me, which was kind of weird but it did distract me and you can’t understand a word I am saying, can you?”
Amy giggled at Tarl. “Sorry, this is so exciting. It’s the first Eskian born on Rothan soil since… Since Light knows when!”
Tarl had never been witness to the small miracle that was birth. It was something that back in Esk would have been dealt privately, kar and kisa together with the midwife. Here, in Rothan, that seed that Tarl had planted in Talra was finally coming into the world. The midwife, contrary to Eskian costume, chased Tarl out of the room. “That is not the Eskian way,” complained Tarl.
“No, sir, it is the Rothan way, and your wife is in good hands. Shoo now, you will see your offspring soon.” Defeated by a slammed door, Tarl went to a bench and waited. And waited. And waited. Tarl lost track of time, and paced nervously as moans and yelps came out of the locked room. Then Tarl heard a scream and loud crying, and stood up immediately, nervous that something could have happened to Talra. Just as he was about to barge in, the midwife emerged from the room. She was smiling, and between her arms there was a small bundle wrapped in white cloth. “Meet your daughter,” said the midwife. A… A daughter? A kisa? It could not be, this was a tragedy… but then Tarl remembered where he was and looked at his daughter. She was peacefully asleep. “Has she suckled, midwife?” asked Tarl. “She suckled so greedily one could have said she was attacking her mother’s breasts, sir” said the midwife. Tarl uncovered the bundle, and there was the head of his daughter. It… No… She… She had eyes that were at the same time blue and green, and light blonde hair, just like Talra’s. The baby opened her eyes, blinked and looked up.
“She is a perfect little girl,” said Tarl. While holding his daughter, he entered the room where Talra was resting. Her hair was matted and wet, and she looked very tired. “It’s a girl, wife,” said Tarl. Talra looked over at him, then burst out in tears. “I am sorry, husband. I… I thought for sure it was a boy. The next one, I swear, will be a boy! I promise, we will have a boy. Please, this land is so… Different. we can keep her? please? I… I don’t want to sell her. Please, I will never ask for anything ever again!”
Amy looked on in confusion. “Tarl, she seems very upset. Is something wrong?”
Tarl took Talra’s hand and held it tight. “This is not Esk, we do not have to give her away, and I do not see any shame in having a daughter as beautiful as her mother.” He looked up at Anne and Amy. “Daughters in Esk are… Unwanted. It is only the son that is important. Our custom is to sell the baby off to be trained as a servant, before there is a bonding between parent and child, when it is easier. I assured her that this will not happen. I know I am Eskian, and our countries were not always on the same sides of things, but… Could you use a warrior? Regardless of where he was born?”
Anne thought a moment She smiled softly and said, “Our realm has a small standing army, kar Tarl. However, we could use a master of arms who oversees training, logistics, and can give our troops good fighting skills.” Tarl nodded. He asked, “Does this require an oath of loyalty?” Queen Anne said, “It requires swearing allegiance to Rothan.” Tarl thought a moment and then said, “I will swear.”
Despite the midwife’s warning to give Talra time to heal, she was pregnant again 2 months later. She was also learning to speak the common language and, despite Amy’s insistence that she rest, the day after giving birth she was in the castle kitchen helping to cook. Two months later Hunnerk arrived, on a diplomatic mission he claimed, and met with Tarl and Anne at the docks. He insisted Tarl return with him and Anne looked calmly at Tarl. “You are of Rothan now, but I shall not force you to stay.”
“Because you do not force me is why I wish to remain, my queen,” and, out of respect and also to irritate his father, he bowed to a woman.
“You would go to war to protect this… Traitor and killer?” Hunnerk snarled.
“Yes,” Anne said without hesitation.
“Father, I have renounced my connection to Esk. Please go in peace,” Tarl tried one more time. His father, knowing that Rothan could not defeat Esk in a war but had enough allies who could, turned and left in a huff.
“Killer?” Anne smiled at Tarl.
“They… hurt Talra.”
“Of course,” she nodded.
Seven months later Talra, who was training to be head chef, fulfilled her promise and delivered to Tarl a boy. Life at the castle was not bad, and as the Queens used Port Nala as their summer court; Tarl had the opportunity to know the story of Anne and Amy in detail. If a handmaiden, a servant, could rise up to be a queen in this land, everything was possible.
His Eskian past behind, Tarl slowly shed the old costumes, and adopted the Rothan mannerisms and language. Inside his house, for a while, he was still Eskian, and would still call Talra “my kisa,” but in time Tarl relaxed the Eskian way somewhat. The telltale moment that Tarl had assimilated the Rothan culture was when he had Talra learn both the common language and the Rothan language, which she needed in her job as castle chef.
Tarl had seen to Talra’s education in that aspect, teaching her all he had learned, and teaching her how to read Eskian, Rothan and the common language as well. It was slow teaching, for Tarl himself was still learning, but it was something he had learned to appreciate: To treat Talra like an equal, like a person, and to spend time knowing what she had to say, and what she thought about the various events surrounding their new life. The culmination of the process was when Tarl renounced the old religion of the Holy Five and Embraced the cult of light, followed closely by Talra.
The day after their conversion, Tarl took Talra to a metalworker. Outside the shop, Tarl took Talra’s hands in his, and falling back for a moment to the Eskian language, he said, “My kisa. You have performed your duty well. You have been pleasing, and you have given me a male son. Your duty to me is complete, my line continues, and Hek releases you.” Tarl then squeezed Talra’s hands and said, in Rothan language, “Only because I love you, and it is Tarl’s wish to marry you under the Light, which is a bond stronger than any servitude, and our children, Mara and Ulric, will no longer have the taint of being born out of wedlock.” For that was in Tarl’s character, to follow the law, uphold it, and to lead an honorable life.
Talra looked at Tarl and smiled, then shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know, I mean… I am young and there are so many strong, virile… Of course I will marry you!” Mara giggled behind them. Tarl took her in and for the first time in her life she was without a collar. Tarl asked the goldsmith if he could fashion a gold, filigree ring in the same design as her collar and he agreed, since Tarl was letting him keep the excess gold from the collar as a payment. Mara and Ulric were also welcomed to the Church of the Light. Only in one place would Tarl’s Eskian ways stay unchanged: Within his bedchamber. In bed, he was still the kar, and she, the kisa. The wedding was a huge event held in the castle. Mara was put in a dress, something she detested, and her sword was taken away. It was just wood, but she was hardly ever without it. Ulric was more refined, thoughtful and quiet than his loud and pushy sister.
Tarl had been one of the Faithful, a true Eskian, a strict follower of the Hadith. The arrival of Talra to his life, though, had subverted all that. He had committed the First Mistake, and had feared it. Then he had followed his heart, and had embraced the energy of love. In his new life in Rothan, Tarl, Talra, Mara and Ulric lived their lives embracing the light and allowing love to be a part of their lives the family bloomed with two more sons and one more daughter, and while Talra would always remain Tarl’s kisa in their bedchambers, she managed to be recognized throughout Rothan as the best chef in the southern marches. Tarl was promoted again and again first to palace master and then to master of arms of the southern marches. Tarl and Talra had at last found their place in the world.