Taming the Warlord

The next morning was quiet as if the city held its breath. Not a single child played outside, all kept safely at home by their terrified mothers. Imperium soldiers patrolled the streets. Very little looting had occurred during the night. Wisps of smoke from the still smouldering ashes of ruined buildings rose lazily into the air.

The Warlord stood on the balcony of the palace, looking over his latest conquest. He would be glad when one of his sisters arrived to take up the tedium of administering this new jewel in the Imperium. Most likely it would be his eldest sister, who had proven herself adept bringing foreigners to heel. He gazed to the east hoping to see the baggage train even though he knew it would be too early for its arrival.

The Imperium was a matriarchy though the men were not subjugated. Imperial noble women just seemed to have a better understanding of the matters of administration though they could be as brutal as their men. It also freed the men to be able to do the truly important things like expanding the Empress's domain.

He stopped his musing. It was time to quell any thought of rebellion. Striding back into the palace, he gave instructions to some soldiers who quickly ran to relay his commands. Soon the loud tolling of a bell rang over the city, scattering the stillness.

Soldiers swarmed the streets, entering houses and herding the survivors. Soon the market place was filled with the frightened mumbling of the populace surrounded by armed men. Mothers clutched children to their skirts and those men who still remained formed a cordon around them, eying the soldiers.

A hush fell over the crowd as the Warlord approached. He stepped up onto a raised platform set at one end of the clearing. Following him were bound captives, nobles and the Zulti King. The prisoners were forced to their knees, soldiers with long viscous pikes stood behind them.

"You are now all servants of Her Imperial Highness." He proclaimed loudly, his voice carrying easily over the assembled Zults. "You will not oppose Her rule or you will suffer the same fate as these!" He signalled the soldiers. In unison pikes were thrust though the backs of the kneeling men, piercing their hearts and thudding into the wooden platform.

Startled cries of horror and anger flooded out from the crowd. The surrounding soldiers gripped their weapons in readiness. Their voices fell silent as the Zults stared upon their King and Nobles, pikes holding them upright as they knelt dead. The Warlord turned and marched from the market place. His soldiers dispersed the crowd, leaving the grisly reminder of the price of opposition.

Throughout the day the Warlord received reports of minor disturbances. Those caught were forced to assist in clearing the dead from the yesterday’s battle. Great funeral pyres burned to the north, a fair distance from the city but the stench of the burning flesh filled the air.

The Warlord paced through the corridors of the palace, those soldiers who watched his passage had a sense of foreboding. He would stop his prowling at the balcony looking to the east, seeing nothing he would repeat his patrol. Finally in the dim light of dusk, he saw an approaching dust cloud, which could only be the baggage train. He stood watching until he could make out details of the wagons pulled by giant oxen. Turning from the procession, he gave orders to a waiting soldier. Returning to the balcony, he watched the setting sun, his hands clenched on the banister.

The soldier soon returned to inform him that everything was as he had requested. Nodding to the soldier, he marched down to the dungeons below the palace. Guards hurried to open doors for him until he was before the cell that his quarry was imprisoned. She huddled in a corner, wrapped in a ragged blanket.

"Hello, Auntie Cedar." He mocked, reminding her of Janth.

"Your mother unworthy to be my sister!" She snarled at him. Nearby guards paled at the insult to the Empress. The Warlord's face remained impassive, inwardly vowing that she would pay dearly. "Too stunned for words?" She asked with a sparkle in her eyes, breaking the silence. "Should I explain my insult?"

"Prepare her. Bring her to my chambers." He stated as he turned to leave. "Ensure she is bound with cold iron."

He waited at the table in his sparsely furnished chambers. The only other item was his bed, set in a corner covered in thick furs. He examined the room with its cold stone walls and small arrow slit windows. Beside him was a plate with bite sized chunks of cooked meat and fruit.

The door opened and two guards entered, pushing the Erra before them. Her hands bound behind her back with heavy iron manacles. Other than the bindings, she was naked, her teeth clenched in pain. They forced her to her knees and she glared at the Warlord.

"Remove them." He said, pointing to the cuffs. The soldiers quickly complied. Cedar rubbed her reddened wrists, her breasts moved as she breathed. He then waved the guards from the room with a flick of his wrist. They complied instantly.

Cedar got to her feet and paced the far side of the room, staying as far from the Warlord as possible. He watched her as she moved with a feline grace, eying her body's curves and softness of flesh. Picking a piece of fruit from the plate, he chewed it slowly as he contemplated the future.

Her eyes darted about the room, looking for anything to use as a weapon. Her stomach growled at the sight of the food on the table but she tried to relegate that desire to the back of her mind. She made no move to conceal herself from him, seemingly unashamed of her nakedness.

Their eyes met and she glowered at him. He sat there, triumphant, dressed only in a thick velvet robe. He could see her calculating, planning her next move. With a resigned sigh, she sat down. She was unable to stifle the gasp as her exposed and abused buttocks touched the cold stone floor. He could only smile and wait, chewing the pieces of food.