A Sinless Betrayal, Cherie Benjamin [story books to read .txt] 📗

surprised. He leans over and whispers into my ear. "I don' like 'de way he looks at you," he says to me.

I shake my head quickly. "I don't either. You think I like being stared at like I'm a piece of meat? I thought your brother hated me anyways."

Abigor glares over my shoulder at his brother. I yelp as his hands slide down to my backside and he grips me there, hard. I want to push him away, but I know he's making a territorial statement to his brother. "No," he says. "He wants everyt'ing I have, Eliz'bella. He wants my throne, my title, my jewels, and my Tiger Claw."

I break away from him and twirl myself on his arm. He gives me an odd look. "And what was that?" he asks me. "That ain't been done before anywhere 'ere."

The drums speed up and I move my hips faster, twirling all around him. He has trouble keeping up with me. "Some ladies back in my village taught me how to do it. It's called a twirl, or at least that's what I call it."

"Tvirl," he mispronounces the word.

I giggle and correct him. "No, no, no. T-wi-rl." I sound it out for him. By the way I'm acting, I feel as if I've had too many wines before I came out to dance. While I had filled Abigor's goblet up with wine in the kitchen, I decided to experiment myself.

And I had found that wine was very good and that I had been missing out on a lot by disliking the bitter taste. But my tastebuds had developed, and I was grateful for that. "You 'de one teachin' how to say words, hmm?" he asks me, his eyebrows raised. "'Dat how it works now, little one?"

My foot catches on a rock and I go spiralling into the dark. But he catches me before I hit the ground, spinning me onto my back so that I'm facing him. My lips are millimetres away from his and I can feel the attraction like a magnet, pulling us together.

But yet again, we don't kiss. The sound of Iron Coyote's voice makes me jump. I stand back up. "Havin' fun wit' your whore, little brother?" he asks. I scowl at him, but he doesn't see since Abigor quickly shoves me behind him.

"Who are you to interrupt us?" Abigor hisses. "Couldn't you see 'dat we were in 'de middle of somet'in?"

"The fuckin' prince of the barbarians," Iron Coyote smugly replies.

Abigor scoffs. "And who am I, older brother? 'Dat's right, the goddamn King of the 'de barbarians."

Iron Coyote's face drops and he scowls at his brother. "Only 'cause our father insisted it is so. Old man was a goddamn fool leavin' you in charge wit' our kingdom. You're a flop of a ruler."

I can't believe that I'm hearing him say that to the king of the barbarians. It's unbelievable. "I wouldn't start on that. Kanabugukowaneawa dayada rana ba! No one has once suggested you king instead of me."

Ivona bursts out of the crowds and latches onto Iron Coyote's arm. She kisses his skin and he grins at her. He pulls her in front of him and cups a hand over her womanhood. She turns her head shamelessly and kisses his neck.

"'Dis is a whore," he announces, grinning like a mad fool. "I'm sure you ain't even fucked 'dat one yet. Get to it, kadan dan'uwan, because if you don't want to fuck her, I be happy to take her."

Abigor seethes at his brother, grasping my arm. "Dauki karuwa da kuma tafi, ku bugu wawa!" he hisses. "Leave my sight. Here you go again, spoilin' somethin' that we supposed to be havin' a good time at."

0o0o0o0o

I'm back in my chair. The dance hadn't lasted long due to Iron Coyote's rude interruption. I want to rip each follicle of hair out of his head slowly and painfully. Abigor stares dully out at the crackling fire, sipping at his fifth goblet of wine. Does he never tire of the drink?

I watch as Arlena is taken before the public eye and jostled about like a rag doll. I look away, for it's not something I'd ever approve of or enjoy watching. I feel sorry for her, and I believe that I realize my luck, sitting upon a nice throne next to the most beautiful man in all of the land.

I see another man break out of the crowd and land a powerful punch to the other man's jaw, the one that was having sex with Arlena. I watch Abigor sit up in his seat, leaning forward with interest.

Before I can realize it, I turn my head back and the two men are battling viciously. The one with the longer hair swings and hits the shorter haired one, knocking him to the ground.

The shorter haired barbarian quickly scrambles to his feet, kicking up dirt around the fire. The crowd forms a circle around them, watching and betting on who would win the fight. Blood trickles down his face. The shorthaired one looks awfully younger than the older, longhaired one.

"Tell me something," I beg him. He gives me a look before sighing.

"Black Bear," Abigor whispers to me. He points to the younger, short haired one. "Shymal is the commoner's name. Very gentle, most likely the gentlest out of all of us."

I glance at the longer haired one. "And what about the older one? What it is his name?"

"Grey Hawk," he replies. "Or Alcott. He is a strong, stubborn man. He can be cruel…but yet again, all of us can be."

I find myself routing for the one named Black Bear. He looks about seventeen or eighteen years old, his sweaty, damp black hair kissing his shoulders. He has blue markings and tattoos on his body as well.

Grey Hawk's long hair is not as long as Abigor's but reaches his middle back. Grey Hawk has many more tribal tattoos than Black Bear, but I suppose it's because Grey Hawk's been around longer than he has. I suspect he's four years older than me, about twenty-four years old.

Black Bear's nose is spouting blood like a spigot and his lip is red and puffy. Grey Hawk has less damage on him, a few scratches on his arms, and a busted lip. The older man lands a fatal blow to Black Bear, and he's down on the ground with a sickening crack. He struggles on the ground.

I begin to panic in my seat. "He'll die!" I find myself crying out. My fingers grip the sides of my throne, watching intently.

Black Bear is still on the ground. Grey Hawk steps over him and prepares to land the final blow. But the younger one is clever and knocks his heavy body into Grey Hawk's leg. The older one tumbles to the ground. Black Bear grabs a fairly large stick on the ground laying close to him and presses it against Grey Hawk's neck in one quick motion.

"Yi biyayya! Yi biyayya!" Black Bear screams. Grey Hawk is very red in the face and flustered as he struggles under Black Bear's pressure and the force of the stick. I can tell that Black Bear is screaming for Grey Hawk to submit and yield.

Grey Hawk's hand hits the dirt floor three times. The crowd roars in approval, pounding their feet on the logs and cheering Black Bear's name. Arlena gets up from her place on the ground and goes to Black Bear's side. He pulls her in close and kisses her cheeks.

As for the loser, Grey Hawk is shamed for losing a fight and gets his hair cut off a few inches. Four for losing the fight, and two more for losing to a minor. He looks pissed off in the process, gripping the fallen locks of thick black hair in his hands.

Punishment for loss.

I glance over at Abigor and see his long hair reaching his hips. It's very clear to me that he's not lost a fight in a very long time. In the end, Black Bear gets the woman and the credit and Grey Hawk is left for dust.

Now that the fight is over, people begin to dance, drink, and eat again. I find my thin stomach grumbling. I hadn't eaten in a while even though food was endless in the barbarian castle. I stand and go to the table of food.

There are meats beyond belief, and there's nothing but meat. Chicken legs and wings, pork slabs, ham cuts, turkey drumsticks, and chunks of beef resting on plates, flies buzzing hungrily around it all. They're all hot and cooked.

But out of the corner of my eye, I see a lone piece of green fruit sitting on a white plate at the end of the table. I can tell that there were once more than one of those strange fruits on the platter, but all were taken.

I'm not really big on eating the meat with the extra flies on it, so I make my way down to the table. As a reach out to grab it, another hand beats me to it. I look up to see a tall, beautiful barbarian woman in front of me, biting into the light green fruit. The end looked like a star.

I reel back in shock. Her hair is cut short near her ears and her big, wild eyes are filled with resentment. She smiles sarcastically at me, tilting her head. "Dakiki," she mutters.

I turn slowly, not wanting a fight with this strong woman. She spits on the ground, a chunk of fruit coming with it. I cringe at it and begin to walk away. "Tiger Claw, no?"

Apparently Tiger Claw was the universal name that the barbarians used to call me, and not just Abigor and Three Horses. I turn back around and nod my head slowly. The burly girl looks me up and down, her long russet legs bared and silky. She does not look like the harem girls.

She wears a short deerskin skirt with a flimsy top that showed her toned stomach. She is very tall, wearing moccasins and a ruby around her neck. "Yes," I reply.

The young woman uses her short fingernails to grip into the flesh of the fruit and her fingertips to break it in half. Juice spurts out at me, but I don't flinch. "Y-You take," she stutters. By the way, she speaks, I can tell that she has not spoken the Common Tongue for long and was not very good at it.

I hesitantly take the fruit and lift it to my lips. The taste is similar to an apple's and a pear's tastes both combined into one. It's quite good, I decide. I nod my head up at her. "Thank you," I whisper.

She looks down at me, unsmiling. "No," is all she can manage to say. I look up at her in confusion.

I furrow my eyebrows and swallow a bite of fruit. "What do you mean?"

"Na gode," she tells me. "T'ank you be na gode."

My eyes widen in understanding. "Na gode," I repeat. "That means thank you?"

She nods. And then walks away.

I'm left standing at the table, wondering what just happened here. I see her across the fire, standing next to Black Bear and rubbing his muscled chest. She says something to him in Hausa that I do not understand and he laughs, kissing her on the cheek. She pushes him hard and smiles.

Now that's the meaning of tough love, I think. I grab a turkey drumstick off the table for Abigor. If he doesn't want it, I'll eat it. I don't particularly care.

He's watching as another fight breaks loose in the crowds. I sit down in my throne and hand him the turkey drumstick. He jumps when I shove it in front of his nose, and then gives me a cold look. But he takes it anyways, tearing into it viciously with his teeth.

I smirk. And before I know it, the fight is over. The loser gets 5 inches cut from his hair and the winner gets a