Chapter 3: A new way of life.
)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(
Jhardron woke in the dim morning light with the sour smell of the girl in his nostrils. He looked over at the girl huddled asleep at the back of his tent. He debated his wisdom in acquiring a ha'akh now. The Twisted Dagger was only half way through their conquest of the remote Northern provinces. Dealing with an untrained girl on campaign could slow them down. But the regiment had been working hard and to have a ha'akh to offer as a reward would be good for morale. This one could bring them luck as well.
Jhardron jerked on the rope attached to her ankle. She lifted her head, blinking, disoriented. He jerked again, "Tet." She scooted out the opening of the tent and stood awkwardly, the hobbles on her ankles shortening her strides to short mincing steps.
In the early morning light he looked her over. She was completely nude except for a filthy rag still tied tightly around her head and the thick layers of grime coating her skin. He reached over and plucked the rag from her head. She wailed and reached for the cloth but he pushed her hands away. She then tried to cover her head with her hands. He stared at the short tufts of scarlet hair peeking between her fingers. She stood frozen, her head bowed, the skin of her face strangely changing color, turning red, tears in her odd pale eyes.
Jhardron was struck that this woman was far more concerned that her head was bare than her venya. He pushed her hands down to her sides and looked at the odd hair covering her head. It was the same red shade as the fur of her venya. It had been cut as closely to her head as possible but who ever had down it had just chopped it off unevenly. He could see her scalp almost black with dirt in between the clumps of hair. He could not help but think to himself, 'a wild-color mare', a common phrase to describe an unusually colored horse.
She was thin, almost starved looking, with prominent ribs and hip bones, but he could see whipcord muscles in her legs and arms, the ripples of muscles in her belly. He could see the marks of the hands of the men who had used her too roughly the night before, but he also noted that they were over older, yellower bruises of injuries from days earlier. This one was had been mistreated before, possibly a slave, certainly an outcast.
Jhardron stepped to cooking pot filled with morning stew, a thick mush of grains, nuts and dried fruit. Picking up a wooden bowl he filled it with a generous serving, he handed it to her.
The girl looked startled and flashed a puzzled look at the food. Ignoring the spoon in his hand, she dipped a finger into it she tasted it and then began to eat, rapidly scooping the food into her mouth with her fingers, as if she expected to have it taken away at any moment. She carefully cleaned the bowl, repeatedly running her fingers around the bottom and licking them off carefully. She looked up at him, gratitude clear in her eyes, and taking the bowl she made a drinking movement and made a soft pleading sound. He nodded and walked to a bucket sitting near his tent door, he pointed at the water filling it. She carefully shuffled to the bucket and dipped the bowl and drank.
)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(
Neekah was quivering with confused feelings. She sensed this warrior's patience and curiosity. To be around so many people and not feel their fear and loathing was a new experience. No one had given her food in so long she had forgotten it was possible. It had tasted wonderful. She stood over the bucket of water and filled the wooden bowl and drank. She was so thirsty; she dipped and drank twice more, sighing as the cool water seemed to flow directly into her veins.
Neekah flinched back toward the opening of the tent as a group of five riders galloped up to the edge of the camp. Dragging their mounts to a sudden stop, kicking up a thick cloud of dust, they vaulted to the ground. An old heavy set warrior shouted a greeting and made a jeering comment. Many of the warriors laughed as the riders busied themselves tying the tall sweat streaked horses to a rope at the edge of camp.
She looked around the tents, looking at the camp for the first time. About a dozen tents surrounded some cooking fires. She could see several dozen men going moving about the camp but they seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking toward her or the man standing beside her. Neekah sensed that their manner was not from fear so much as respect. Many tall horses were tied along ropes at one side of the camp, most were black but a few were shades of red, brown and gray.
The air was cool and a small shiver shook her. She wrapped her arms around herself. For the first time she noticed the fresh burn on the back of her lower arm. Looking closely at it, she could see it was a circle divided into two halves with a line piercing through it. Below it was some odd lines and dots.
The man took her arm and pointed at it, "Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger" Then he pointed at her chest, "Ha'akh Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger". He pointed at himself. "Jhardron Khan Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger." He pointed at her and waited.
Neekah pointed at herself and said, "Neekah."
He shook his head, "Abak." Pointing at her again he repeated, "Ha'akh Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger."
Neekah pointed at herself and hesitantly said, "Hak Bak'Tai...", and paused trying to remember the long string of sounds.
He smiled and nodded and repeated, "Ha'akh Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger." She got it correct the second try. Glad that she seemed to be beginning to understand what he wanted from her, he reached to pat her on the head. He frowned when she automatically shied from the hand reaching to touch her. Neekah did not think he was going to hit her, but she had not ever been touched in kindness. Any hand reaching to touch her was alien and frightening. He leaned down and began to untie her ankles and taking the rope he tied it in a careful knot around her neck.
"Ha'akh Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger, tet." He strode off giving a small prompting tug on the rope leash around her neck. He strode quickly, stopping to give some orders to some raiders standing on the outskirts of the camp. Once more she was struck that the men were careful to avoid looking at her. Jhardron strode off, his long legs striding quickly. She had to trot to keep up.
Soon they were at the edge of the small creek at the base of the Ramaldi valley. He pointed at the water and said something. Neekah looked at the water and then at him, her head tipped to one side in confusion. He shook his head and made a soft exasperated sound. Dropping the rope, he began to undress, pulling off his tunic and loincloth. She looked at him curiously. He was tall even compared to the other raiders, long rows of ridged scars ran down his chest and abdomen and as he turned she could see matching rows on his back. His organ was at rest, nestled neatly between his thighs, with thick black hair growing around it.
Neekah idly toyed with the thought of running but somehow she did not feel afraid. He leaned down and picked up the rope and saying firmly, "Tet.", he waded out into the water until he was waist deep. Neekah reluctantly followed him, disliking the sensation of the cold water on her skin. He reached down and picked up a handful of clean sand and began to firmly scrub her skin. She tried to push the cold gritty hand away from her but he jerked the rope around her neck and glared at her. She knew he was in no mood to be thwarted. She stood miserable, shivering as he washed her from head to toe.
)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(
Initially Jhardron was angry that this woman seemed to know nothing about washing herself. But soon he was fascinated with the color of the skin that began to appear as the layers of dirt rinsed away, creamy white where her clothing had covered her, soft golden brown on her face, arms and legs. Her skin was quick to show pink as the sand rubbed across it; he had never seen anything like it. If he pressed a finger against her reddened skin a white spot would appear and then the redness would spread back across it. He soon realized that he was seeing her blood beneath her skin. She truly was a wild-color girl.
Quickly taking a firm hold of her neck her turned her away from him and bent her over sharply. She yelped and tried to twist from his hand as he forced her to expose her venya. He could see the same redness that had held his attention yesterday but beyond being somewhat swollen he could see no damage from the night before. He pulled her up to standing and went on with his inspection.
Her hair was even more fiery red now that it was clean, droplets of water sparkling in the rough clumps scattered across her head. He reached up to touch it and was once more angered when she cringed like a beaten dog, like she expected him to strike her for no reason. He impatiently pulled her to face him and forced her to stand straight. Looking her in the eye he reached up and ran his hand across the strange red hair. It felt strangely soft to his hand. He could feel her tremble under his hand. He felt a stirring in his jhambar. He ignored it. As Khan of the regiment he would use her last.
Jhardron dressed quickly and led her back toward the camp. Stopping at a wagon parked outside the circle of tents he dug through a pile of clothing and handed her a long simple soft brown shift. She slipped it over her head and carefully threaded the rope around her neck through the neck hole of the simple dress. Sleeveless it fell to below her knees. It was the finest piece of clothing Neekah had ever worn, she smoothed the clean cloth under her fingers and looked up at Jhardron with a huge smile.
His heart lurched, this woman's joy showed through her face like the blood beneath her skin. Her eyes were sparkling, her even white teeth shown against her red lips. This wild-color woman was beautiful.
Jhardron called to Tim'kah. The young boy ran up. It was his first season as a Bak'Tai raider, barely fourteen years old; he was showing great promise to become a fine warrior. "Take this new ha'akh. Show her how to do chores around the camp. My orders are clear; no man may use her until after the archery competition tonight. She will be the prize for the winners. Watch her closely. She may try to run away."
)===(>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<)===(
Neekah looked at the young boy that Jhardron was talking to. Barely more than a boy, his torso was unscarred and he wore no gold ornaments. At first she was slightly alarmed when Jhardron handed the rope tied around her neck to this youngster. He was much too close in age to the gangs of boys who had made her life hell the last few years. Her fears faded as she sensed nothing more than his youthful pride and eagerness to please.
He stood before her and proudly pointed at his chest, "Tim'kah Bak'Tai Twisted Dagger". Swaggering with self importance, his eyes flashing with pride at this new responsibility he pulled firmly on the leash around her neck, "Ha'akh tet." He marched off with her in tow. He led her to a wide meadow with a large herd of horses grazing on the far side. He leaned down and grabbed a filthy stiff hide with a rope tied to it and dragged it out into the field. He pointed at the horses and said, "Marmak." Leaning down he picked up a large handful of horse manure, "Ekh Marmak," and threw it onto the hide. He pointed at another pile of dung, looking at her expectantly.
