"I ask only that you show mercy, these people have done no wrong here."
"And you decide what crimes have or have not been committed against the crown?"
Zariah thought about her next words knowing that they must be chosen carefully or she could join the many bodies draining red across the fields. The man before her stood above all others as midnight hair was pulled back from a face covered in a beard, he wore all black with a fire breathing dragon blowing flames engraved in gold across his chest, blue eyes were like ice as he demanded her submission.
"I should not be so bold my lord..."
"I am Your Majesty, you will address me as such peasant."
Lowering her eyes, though not her head, Zariah thought of those who remained, those she was obligated to protect. "Our king..."
"Your king? Your fucking king was obviously not fit to rule, he died at the end of my sword begging with every last breath, the world will not miss one such as he."
Zariah's lips tightened at the disrespect shown another warrior in battle. She knew her king to be and honorable and brave man, if he died begging it was for the lives of his people.
When he stepped closer Zariah refused to step back. "I have yet to hear you address your king properly."
Controlling her anger she spoke quietly. "Your...Majesty..." She continued. "I assure you no one remains here but women, children, the wounded, and aging men, there is no honor in slaughtering the such."
At the mention of honor the king straightened his back and looked over his shoulder at the thousands of soldiers who stood behind him. His men were tired, hungry, and wished to return to friendlier borders. Though the day was hospitable it had been no less than a fortnight of rain; they slept in it, ate in it, fought in it, and the unfortunate died in it. After a siege that lasted two years there was no mercy left within him.
"Were that your warriors were as practical as you we would not be here now ridding the world of its human waste." He rubbed his hand down her shoulder to a dark breast encircling a nipple through the fabric, speaking casually to the man at his side as he continued his perusal of her person.
"Has the armory and the royal chest been emptied?"
"Yes Majesty."
"Take only those fit to be sold, kill the rest, and then burn the fields."
"No." Zariah gasped. "Please..."
"What should I do with the children?" His man asked.
"No one travels below serving age."
"And the woman?"
"I'm sure you could do with a good fuck Faolon, the whores that follow are not as easy as she on the eyes."
"It isn't my eyes I use when I fuck them."
Zariah listened as her people began to beg for mercy, unable to accept that in a matter of moments like her father, the world she knew would cease to exist.
She saw mother's clutching their children, old men kneeling to pray, and girl's screaming as soldiers chose who would entertain them for the night. Zariah looked over to the self-proclaimed king of her land as he walked away with a straight back and strong shoulders.
Watching the king's retreat she thought how secure he felt as he walked away. How right his world was despite what lay ahead for these wretched souls he so callously sentenced to bondage or death.
In his mind there was no doubt this land was conquered and his lands expanded. His sword lay safely at tapered hips as it had no further need at the moment to see the light of day. Zariah clutched her father's dagger between fingers that demanded justice for what had happened and what would happen. Walking quickly behind him she was at his back when his men called a warning, Zariah's arm was high and came down into his shoulder instead of the center of his back.
Several of his men stood swords drawn and ready to strike before he put up a staying hand that prompted them to remain in place. Ripping the dagger from his shoulder the king threw it to the ground before closing his fist and punching her in the face.
When Zariah fell into the mud her head felt as if it had been split open. She tried to stand only to have him kick her several times. Crouching in a fetal position to protect her head and stomach she cried out in pain. Her gaze was blurred as he leaned down grabbing her coarse hair.
"If only your soldiers had shown such bravery then maybe I would be the one laying in the mud now. I offered you to my bravest most honorable of men but I have decided that you will be mounted by each of my soldiers over and over again."
"I will take my life before I allow it."
Picking up the dagger he dropped it in the mud next to her. "As you wish lady but know this, all these people have received a stay for as long as you breath. I applaud your brave action but the day you die is the day every one of your people die as well. I want you to live many years knowing that each day, each hour, each moment holds the same thing for you, the hopeless life of an unpaid whore. Standing up straight he gave her a final look before going to his horse and mounting it.
"She has poisoned you sire, I know not with what. This land is mysterious to me and we have small knowledge of its vegetation."
The king stared at his physician before recalling his duty.
"Have you received word from my wife's physician?"
The old man looked down to the floor not wishing to tell the king what he knew. "Yes Majesty."
"Is she with child?"
"She is not."
Normally he would not let the queen accompany him during war but the throne had to be secured in case of his demise. Since it was she who had failed to produce a heir he would not put her sensibilities above practicality.