The Khan Ch. 06: Peoples of the Plain

A month on the plains.

The desolate plains stretched before them, rolling hills and grass and chiseled trees of unprofitable wood. Above them, the high vaulted sky. The space here was enormous. Vast tracts of wilderness as far as the eye could see. Nothing to break the monotony. The wind howled. It drove Jun'ai mad. Each day she woke from a thin sleep to the sound of the wind whistling through the grass. It was a constant background noise she would never get used to. There was sorrow here, she thought, in this land of wailing ghosts.

They found scattered settlements. Small pockets of savages living hand to mouth. All weary of outsiders. These were hardscrabble people, accustomed to a harsh life. Most had the heads and manes of lions. They had opposable thumbs and walked upright. Their speech was guttural, heavily accented.

As they marched, they travelled light, carrying only a few days' worth of supplies, surviving on hunting and foraging and trading. The tribes were skittish when first approached but fascinated by worked tools. Steel arrow heads were bartered like gold for food and medicine.

They followed a trail of trash.

At each settlement they found bits of Spring Wind that had been traded or sold off. Here an iron hoe, there a skinning knife. And in the arid expanse between mud adobes, they found discarded tool and broken pieces of furniture and cloths.

They set a rapid pace. They covered considerable ground. They hoped to overtake the fast moving scavengers.

Sudara walked ahead of the others, brooding. He had spoken little these past weeks. This mission was not going the way he had envisioned. The stress was starting to show. Him and Jun'ai shared a blanket, but they had only coupled twice. Both times had been quick and unsatisfying.

On day on their march, Jun'ai saw a dust cloud in the distance. They had seen several this past month. It was probably just this damnedable wind.

But then she noticed something else, figures silhouetted against the dust. A loose line of dark shapes. In this alien landscape she couldn't tell how far away they were. She jogged up to Sudara, pointed them out.

"I see them," he said.

"I can't make out details."

"A dozen, maybe more. On horseback."

Within minutes the thunder of hooves came to them. An hour later, the displaced dust blew across them. The shapes manifested themselves. Massive horses. The riders were minotaurs.

Their line broke, the riders circled them, keeping the band between them.

When the group was fully encircled, the riders halted. Spears levelled.

Sudara, Jun'ai, Toran, and Engir all stood back to back. Weapons ready. Jun'ai knew they would be cut down in seconds if the riders proved to be hostile.

"Brothers, I would speak to you," Sudara called out.

One rider stepped his horse forward. "I am called Lakanta. I am the son of Warlord Mangudai. You may address your words to me."

"We are met with strength. I am honored."

The son's expression remained fixed.

Sudara continued. "We came down from the Kharolis peaks. Following a band of Drune raiders that attacked our village. We intend to bring them to justice for their crimes."

A pause. He weighed his words. "Came down from the peaks, he says."

There was tension here. Sudara didn't know how their tribes were viewed this far south. Formal relations were non existent.

Lakanta's gaze flickered to Jun'ai. "And you bring a human."

"She is part of our tribes."

"I see."

Another pause. Another weighing of factors beyond their immediate comprehension. At last Lakanta turned to his men and gestured. They lowered their weapons. "Come. We will take you to our village. My father will judge your worth."

*

The village was called Red Dawn, and it was a massive collection of huts spread across the shores of a wide river. On the far bank there was a fort. Tall wooden palisades. Parade grounds. There was a wooden keep in the center. It was the first multistory structure Jun'ai had seen since leaving Tyre over two years ago.

They marched across a simple wooden bridge. The river below them was shallow. Then the cavalry dismounted inside the gates. Stable hands scurried up and took the horses away to be rubbed down and fed. Jun'ai was shocked to see jackal headed men among them.

Sudara gripped his handle of his axe. Jun'ai put a hand on his arm. A slight shake of her head.

They were led into the keep. The first floor was a mead hall. Banquet tables. Long benches. A raised dais at the far end with a throne.

Skulls and weapons adorned the walls. The lighting was dim after the sun bleached days on the plain. But it was the merciful absence of wind that relieved Jun'ai. Here in the cloying dusk it was at last quiet.

They were fed. The bowls contained a heavy stew. Jun'ai spooned the chunks and was shocked to find chunks of meat. Beef. These minotaurs were one step from cannibalism.

Suddenly a group entered the hall. These were the warriors of the village. Strong and able bodied, but unarmed. They hauled the benches and tables against the walls leaving a clearing in the center of the room.

They sat or stood. Congregated and waited.

Then the warlord himself walked in. He was tall and broad shouldered, even for a minotaur. His body was completely covered in appaloosa fur. His horns were scarred and chipped from a long and hard life. But he carried himself with supreme confidence. Here was a man who expected everyone to be an enemy. And he was prepared to fight them to the death.

He sat in the massive wooden throne, filling it with his muscular bulk. Then he waved his attendants to him. Three young bulls entered and stood beside the throne. Lakanta among them. Then two females entered and knelt on the other side.

The warlord raised his fist. There was silence. Then a series of stringed instruments started playing a haunting melody and a woman entered the hall. All eyes fixed on her. Jun'ai stared incredulous. This woman was human. Lithe and fair skinned she had black hair and narrow, almond shaped eyes. She was from the Silk Lands far to the east. She wore a diaphanous gown that left nothing to the imagination and bracelets and earrings of jade.

What was she doing so far from home?

She walked to the base of the dais. Bowed low. Raised her arms and stepped into a graceful dance. She performed for the gathered men. She moved up and down the center aisle. Her movements languid and erotic. Each step timed with the music, each move calculated to carry her nubile body close to the audience but not close enough to touch.

As the speed of the music quickened, so too did her steps. She was limber. Appeared classically trained. When the music stopped, she froze, her heels together, arms spread, chest heaving. Her skin shone with a sheen of perspiration.

The audience roared their approval. The woman scurried to the warlord's side and knelt with the other females.

After a moment, the warlord raised his fist again. "Now my warriors will entertain me," he said. "I wish those who failed in the last hunt to show themselves."

Three of the bulls exchanged sideways glances. They shuffled back and forth a moment before stepping forward. They knew what was coming.

The warlord's smile was chilling. "The three of you will perform. You will dance for us." The tone was flat, but the tension behind the words was thick. "Dance for me."

One by one they took to the center of the hall and performed a dance. They were clumsy, unaccustomed to this sort of display. These were warriors that relied to brute strength, not gracefulness. Their movements a mockery after the silk woman's fluid grace.

But they had no choice. This was a dance of shame. They were forced to entertain him like women at the whim of the warlord. The gathered warriors made little eye contact. They mostly watched the floor. They were embarrassed for their three companions and did not want to shame them further by calling attention to this disgrace.

Their punishment finished, the three returned to their seats.

Then at last the warlord turned his attention to the newcomers. His brow raised. "Would one of you care to dance for us? Show us the grace of our brothers living those high peaks."

Sudara blanched.

The warlord smiled. "I joke, of course." Then. "Step forward and make your petition."

The four travelers stood and approached the dais. Jun'ai watched the human woman. She seemed unflustered by these proceedings.

"As I have already told your son, we are pursuing a band of jackals that raided our village. We intend to bring them to justice."

"To what end?"

"We will kill their king."

"They have no king," the warlord Mangudai said with a wave of his hand. "They are a scattered people. They lack the leadership to make them strong."

"Nevertheless, someone ordered the attack."

"Perhaps someone did. And perhaps not." A pause. "Why do you come to me?"

"Lord, we seek permission to pass through your lands."

A hand twirled. A gesture to continue.

"We are unfamiliar with this land. A guide would be beneficial." Then he pressed the point. "You and your people know this land. If there is a jackal leader, you would be better able to find him."

"Of course we know our own lands better than you. And we know where the Drune are hiding. But that does not mean I would be willing to share this information, nor would I be willing to spare a warrior to show you around my territory."

So there is a jackal leader, Jun'ai thought to herself. He implied as much. Now comes the bargaining.

Sudara caught that as well. "We have few goods to trade." He spread his hands to encompass his group. "The only things of value are our weapons and we will be needing those."

Mangudai looked straight at Jun'ai. "There are other things besides money and weapons you have to bargain with." His eyes were undressing her as he spoke.

Sudara was silent a long time. When he spoke, his words were guarded. "Jun'ai is a member of our tribes. She is not property to be traded."

The massive minotaur smiled. "I never said she was property. I simply suggested there are services to bargain with."

Jun'ai held her breath. She did not like where this was heading. Again her gaze flickered to the silk woman. And an image flashed in her head. It was Mangudai on his knees fucking the silk woman from behind.

"I will not order her to offer any services," Sudara said.

Then Jun'ai stepped next to Sudara, put a hand on his arm. "You are a brave and wise leader. I thank you for your consideration. But for the success of our mission, I will volunteer to..." She broke off. Floundered for words. "I will attend to Mangudai's needs."

The warlord's smile widened. His eyes were cold orbs. It was a terrifying expression. Then he made his offer. "I will offer one of my warriors as a guide and I will offer my blessing in your quest." Mangudai said. "In exchange, your female will warm my bed for a night."

Sudara looked at Jun'ai. A silent question. Are you sure about this? She nodded.

Then the warlord addressed his own. "Summon a female to tend to this human. She needs a bath and a change of clothes. And to be shown how to serve me."

Before anyone else could say anything, the silk woman spoke, her voice soft and demure, "Lord, I'll attend to her. I will see to it that she is taken care of."

Mangudai waved his hand at them both. It was a clear gesture of dismissal.

*

Hands caressed her shoulders. Massaged the knots in her shoulders and upper arms. The fingertips dug deep. The hot steam opened her pores. Jun'ai rolled her head back against the rim of the tub. Then the hands retreated. They gathered her hair and pulled it from the tub. It was a rope of tangles and dead ends. The hair was then slowly rubbed with oil and a delicate silver comb began its strokes.

"It's a brave thing you are doing," said Teng Jingyue, the silk woman. "Accepting this role for the success of your quest."

"I can handle myself."

"No doubt. But it is still a brave thing you are doing." The comb hit a tangle. Pulled her hair by the roots.

"Tell me, how did a woman from the Silk Lands end up here? You are very far from home, if you don't mind my saying."

"I was young when I left home," she said. "I joined a caravan trading silk and jade throughout the Fire Sands and across the Sea of Salt." The comb ran through her hair, continuing its meditative work. "We were past Kalamar when a sandstorm hit. Terrible things, sandstorms. They strike suddenly and there is no place to hide in the desert. Our goods and horses and wagons were swept away. Everyone was killed except me and one other merchant."

"Me and him salvaged what little we could. This silver comb was one of the pieces I found. Anyway, before we could backtrack to Kalamar, we were set upon by bandits. I was so sure we were going to die. Or be captured or raped. But before the charging horses reached us, a group of minotaurs crested the ridge on the opposite side of the road. The minotaurs shot a couple of the men. The rest fled."

"We had been saved. The minotaurs offered us food and clothing and escorted us the rest of the way to Kalamar."

"So you made it to Kalamar?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you book passage back to the Silk Lands?"

"Jinfen did. He was more than ready to go home. But I stayed. I came back with them to the Veiled Lands."

"Why?"

A hesitation. "I'm not sure. It's something I've asked myself over these years. There is something about them, a quiet dignity, that I found so appealing. And I've been with the warlord ever since."

"Tell me about him."

"Mangudai?"

"Yes."

There was a moment of thought before the silk woman spoke. "He is a man not to be taken lightly. He is a fierce warrior and a capable ruler. He is strong and he can be very cruel at times."

"Like forcing his subjects to dance for him."

"Much worse." Then, "Are you afraid?"

Jun'ai thought for a moment. "No. I've never had a problem handling men before. This one should be no different."

"Mangudai is not like other men." Was that fear in her voice? Or awe?

"Most men think that about themselves."

The comb stopped. The fingers made an idle twirl. Then in a soft voice, "You don't have to go through with this."

"If we want the guide, I do."

"No. I mean, you can get out of this without having to indulge the warlords appetites."

"How?" Jun'ai raised her shoulders out of the water and turned to face the other human. The woman's face was a mask. Her lips compressed to a thin line.

When she spoke, her tone was pitched low. "When I was in the Fire Sands I studied magic. I have the ability to fool the senses. Make people believe lies. I can't change the reality, but the perception is often just as important as the reality. Wouldn't you agree?"

Jun'ai watched this woman, studied her expression, weighed her sincerity. "How we perceive the world says more about us than it does about the world."

The silk woman met her gaze. Her gorgeous lips perked into a smile. She put her hands on Jun'ai's shoulders and pushed her back into the water. Then she pressed her own body against the rim of the tub.

Her hands wrapped around Jun'ai. Fondled her breasts. Her lips caressed the nape of her neck. Hairs stood on end. Jun'ai trembled. Then there were words in her ear. "I need to know you. I need to know your body. Your touch. The feeling of you in my hands. The feeling of you pressed against me."

Jun'ai exhaled slowly.

"Good. Details are important. Let them come naturally." Jingyue's hands ran across Jun'ai's shoulders. Ran down the length of her arms. Fingertips lingered a moment on her elbows, cupping the delicate joints.

"On your knees." A command. Jun'ai obeyed. She rose from the warm water. On her knees. Hands on the rim of the tub. Jingyue caressed her butt. Ran her fingers across the plump flesh. Across her waist and hips. She grabbed Jun'ai as if she were preparing to enter her from behind. The hands lingered there a long time.

The hands reached into the water, ran the length of her thighs. First down the outside, from hip to knee. Then around and up the inside. One hand lingered. Moved farther up. Touched her crotch. The soft fold of skin. The wetness. The fingers exploring.

Jun'ai's head rolled back. She moaned.

Then the hands were gone. The skin tingled in their absence. She ached for the other woman to go further.

Then she opened her eyes. And saw Jingyue in front of her. The silk woman pulled her hand back and slapped Jun'ai across the cheek. Hard.

Jun'ai flinched. Grabbed Jingyue's arm. The other woman jerked, trying to pull her arm free. Jun'ai held her tight.

"Don't fight me. It's for the best."

Jun'ai starred at the other woman. Then let her go.

Jingyue punched Jun'ai. Her cheek exploded in pain. Lights danced across her vision.

"Shit..."

Then hands gripped the back of her skull. Steely fingers held her tight. Her head was jerked back and forth. Violently. Jun'ai gripped the other woman's wrists.

Her head was pushed back. Her neck bent. Jugular exposed. A vulnerable position. Then a tongue licked her neck. Teeth nibbled their way up to the base of her jaw. Then her chin. Then lips crushed against hers. It was the smooth kiss of another woman.

A moment later, Jun'ai was released. She was gasping.

One hand cupped the left side of her face. A tender caress. Then her head was slammed against the rim of the tub.

She scrambled. Clawing at the other woman to keep her away.

"That's enough, I think." The voice came from a great distance. Her head still swimming. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

When her eyes focused, the silk woman was gone. A gossamer dress sat folded beside the tub.

*

Sometime later Jun'ai found herself dressed in sheer silk, hair freshly braided, laying on a bed of furs. There was incense in the air. Foreign. Exotic. A smell reminiscent of Jingyue. Candles burned in scones against the wooden buttresses of the wall. No windows. A dim light.

She was in a chamber under the keep. There were columns holding the ceiling. Screens of polished heartwood and canvas curtains partitioned the space. Jun'ai couldn't help recall the legends surrounding minotaurs. Their fondness for mazes. This is where they felt most at home.

Jun'ai was shaking with nerves. She didn't know what to expect. All she knew was that soon Mangudai would come down the stairs. There would be some foreplay. She would arouse him. Then she would retreat behind a curtain to fetch some wine. And when she came out, he would have his way with her.

She knew somewhere down here Jingyue was watching from the shadows.

The door swung open. Heavy footsteps down the stairs.

She stood. Then Mangudai was at her side. He towered over her. He spoke, "I will have you now, woman."

"First, let me show you what you are getting," she said.

She shimmied out of her gown. Naked, she stood before him and let his eyes play over her bare flesh. Her breasts. The roundness of her butt. One hand fondled her own breasts.

Then she ran her hands over his body. His chiseled chest, his arms like tree trunks, his shoulders like a mountain.

Her hand slid down his pants, between his legs, coaxed his member up. Delicate fingers ran along the shaft. Felt the throbbing, pulsing member. Mangudai breathed a soft grunt.

She became aroused, despite herself.

Then he took the initiative. He gripped her wrists with both hands. Spread her arms apart. And devoured her breasts. She yelped from the suddenness of the assault.

Massive molars ground the flesh. She cried out. Startled and bruised by the onslaught.

He bit her neck. Her shoulder. His abrasive tongue licked her clavicle. Licked the length of her exposed neck.

"My lord," she said breathlessly trying to pull herself free. "Let me pour you a glass of wine."