The Tattooed Princess

Farewell to a Wicked King

            "I am just aware of all possibilities, Krido. Do not scold me for my apprehensiveness these days in the palace."

            "Fine. But just always remember who you are . . . and why you were abducted. There is truly no easy life for those vanquished or abducted in battle. . . even for a false princess with absent powers as yours."

            Zaria nodded sadly. "I have been mindful of that everyday for this past year and a half. And I will not forget it now, counselor."

            "And as to that . . . false power. . . . You must not speak of that so freely, Zaria. Those notions are ours . . . and ours alone. Put it out of your mind. I caution you to resume your usefulness to the kingdom, no matter what the truth. And I would hope these uncertain days have not given you any ideas of trying to escape your lodging here."

            She looked up quickly at him. "Your role with the Pazyryk clan is your survival. Such an attempt to leave us . . . would not be wise to your health, beautiful slave."

            Zaria could see Krido was strongly resolved in his comments to her. She had also always known that his overarching concern was for his own people.

            "I will watch my tongue, fair counselor. And you can be assured . . . the palace here is where I shall remain."

            "Good. And I am sorry that your fellow slave, Branka, has been presumed killed by the weather. But she made it her choice to try and escape. Out into the snow with the Amazon girl. The environment here would always do the same to you, I'm afraid, Zaria. Do not harbour such desires to get away, princess."

            "Of course. I honor your wisdom, Krido."

            With that, the old man in his pristine purple robe left her in the long hallway. He moved away with his tall staff and characteristic shuffle across the stone tiles. As Zaria  walked along the citadel's passageways to her own chamber, she came to the guarded cell where she knew Sharvur was being confined. It was there, behind the heavy door that the former king was locked in for life. She stood before the cell briefly and nodded to the guards—and they nodded back. The room beyond the door was deathly quiet. How was Sharvur now looking? she wondered. What did he think of each long day in his isolation behind those rock walls?                                   

                                                                 *     *     * 

            At Zaria's next opportunity—while a grand meeting was called by the pair of kings for all the generals to assemble, she escaped again, into the tented city below. The meeting of the military leaders was to be lengthy—a discussion of readiness of the clan to defend itself in the more active spring when attacks were imminent and the Pazyryk mounted their own raids for goods and plunder. Zaria went again directly to Moshtok's house. And there she was greeted by an exuberant Branka.

            "Sister! The snows have left us . . . and we are making last plans to leave this place. In only days we hope."

            Zaria entered the small house and found several bundles of what appeared to be supplies and belongings on the floor in a state ready to travel. Moshtok entered from a back room. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her he had a surprise for her to see.

        "Come with me, my student," he said smiling, now with a new atmosphere of excitement. As they stepped out to the back of Moshtok's tent he showed Zaria what he had apparently been working on since her previous visit. In the distance, toward the direction of the magnificent mountains, was a leather object Moshtok had set up some twenty to twenty-five meters away. It was the dimensions of a man and when he was joined by Tomyris the Amazon, carrying two Scythian bows and a handful of bronze-tipped arrows, it was obvious the mysterious object was a target used for archery practice.