He awoke alone, His arm reaching over to her furs to pull her closer to Him encountering nothing. His eyes snapped open with a start; quickly adjusting themselves to the early morning gloom ... He sat up, His eyes sweeping the room for her and saw her nowhere. Concern lined His face, she was always there, where could she be?
He rose and threw on His doeskins quickly... the Bowie snuggling into the sheathe on His back and strode out into the halls of the palace, why was it so quiet? Where was the hustle of the monks heading to pray, the slaves cleaning, and the soldiers on guard? Everywhere the sound of silence and emptiness greeted Him, Moving quietly like a tiger He slipped from hall to hall, up and down corridors frequently and seldom used until He was almost at the temple.
A dull roar erupted from the temple rooms ... echoing through the silent stone halls of the Palace ... the clash of wood and metal meeting, shrieks of rage and grunts becoming louder the closer He was to the temple doors ... then another roar and some applause .... again the sounds of combat, because that was the only sound like that, biting through the silence. A scream like the large cat of the jungles below told Him who at least one of the combatants was ... He recognized the sound of His girls voice, He'd heard it so many times like this during the wars, standing side by side with Him as the bodies piled around them. His hand slid back without even thinking and as He kicked open the temple doors the Bowie was in His hand vibrating in bloodlust...
There was a crowd of slaves and soldiers gathered around what appeared to be a circle of monks in the middle of the temple floor... cheering and gasps intermingling with laughter and surprise ... some of the soldiers were moving back and forth through the crowd gathering bets and slave girls were swooning with the excitement of whatever was going on in the middle of that circle.
He drew close to the back of the crowd, moving silently as He always did (a fact which was very disconcerting to His people when He caught them by surprise like now) ... He coughed and a low pitched growl suddenly filled the air ... heads turned and slaves fell to the floor .. soldiers stood straight and proud ... all noticing the Bowie in His hand ... the monks however were too intent on the circle to feel His eyes upon them ... He saw a staff rise high in the air, spinning like a propeller and fall back into the crowd to be met by the flash of a small sword and a grunt that He instantly recognized.
Finally, He stood behind the monks, taller than they He looked to see what was going on and a grin split His previously worried face. His girl was standing off three of the young battle monks which served as His private guard. Her sword flashing back and forth, her feet flying in the dance moves that she had adapted so well for combat, she stymied them at every turn and had them backing up slowly. The look on her face was ecstasy, she loved this ... born to be a warrior she had been hard to train as a pleasure slave, a lesser Man might have given up and rejected her, but He had made sure she could fight with the best of His men, that she could deal with people with diplomacy (even though that was a lesson she still needed constant attention with), that if He should be absent for any prolonged period of time His vision and leadership would be in the best possible hands.
His Men recognized it; the citizens of the valley worshipped her, her beauty and heart touching them all individually so many times they had lost count. He chuckled as she disarmed first one then a second and backed the third to the floor pinned with her sword at His throat, the look in His eyes furious with being beaten by a woman. He would have to keep an eye on that one, He was young and though a capable fighter, He had a temper that if uncontrolled would get Him killed ... He stepped through the crowd and picked up one of the staffs. She turned her head to look at Him and then dropped to her knees, head down, sword at her side ... hands palm up on her thighs ... "good morning Master, I expected to be back sooner, but they fought well"
He suddenly stepped back and swung the staff at her... straight down in a sweeping arc, His eyes lit up when she automatically grabbed her sword and parried the blow, her legs curling under her and launching her to the side and into position ... Master, what are you doing, she said calmly .. her eyes watching Him carefully ... without a word He attacked... the staff spinning and thrusting over, down... back and around ... her eyes following His as He had trained her ... each blow sliding past her due to her skill ... the crowd gathered back in to watch the Lord of the Valley duel with His girl. They moved like a trained dance troupe... in and out, back and forth... weaving, dodging, blocking and then thrusting and swinging.... the weapons moving faster and faster ... the staff in His hands nothing but a blur ... impossible for any but the most trained eye to follow, the sword in hers as deadly as a viper and much much faster ... a sudden thrust a flick of His wrist and a turn to sweep at her feet left the sword flying through the air and the girl laying on her back on the stone floor ... the staff at her throat. Mixed cheers from His soldiers and sighs of disappointment from the slavegirls who looked to her for leadership filled the room ... He stood over His girl... eyes locked with hers and dropped the ironwood staff to the floor... leaning down He grabbed her hair and drew her up to her feet then threw her over His shoulder with a delighted laugh ... and to the victor go the spoils, He roared.
The room burst out in glee as He turned and ran with the flailing girl over His shoulder back to the palace, her small frame bouncing on His shoulder and a blush filling her face as she looked back at the crowd waving to T/them ... . He moved quickly thru the familiar passages ... His lust growing by the moment, combat always aroused Him and He could smell the excitement on His girl as well ... into His chambers they sped ,... His foot swinging out and kicking back to slam the door shut then spinning with His girl and pinning her against it .. one hand in her hair gripping tightly ... forcing her eyes to His .. the other reaching down to her tunic and ripping it from her ..