Blood of Azura

Part III

They were rounded up in a large clearing between the tents. Women and girls of all ages and sizes, some crying with despair, some hardened and brave, some even casting flirtatious glances at the Zybarians. So this was where her newest fate would be decided. Here amongst scores of other stolen women she would be enslaved at the mercy of either Leoth or Zybar. Would her life be forever dictated be the greed and desire of men?

During the march Fara had noticed that the Leoths spoke very little, and when they did it was rarely to the Zybar, it was in their harsh, rough language to each other.  Their long, lithe bodies and sharp features were quite startling to look at, their outward controlled demonstration at odds with the panic and hysteria circling all around them. Their gigantic beasts hoisted them far above it too. How small and insignificant they must look to them, she thought. Like ants waiting to be crushed beneath their boots. Crunch. Flatten. Dust.

As they were ordered to stand for inspection, Fara decided she would be one of the hardened and brave, or at least give the appearance of such.  She would look her fate in the eye and show no fear. Like Galyn did. Like Galyn would have wanted her to do.  No. Galyn wanted you to flee the city before it fell, remember? He wanted you to get to safety and stay alive. Not end up here in a Zybarian slave camp, wardened by Leothine masters.

The Zybar from the march eyed her from a little way away, his pale grey eyes promising pain and humiliation. Fara raised her chin and stared him down for a moment, before turning to look straight ahead. She was a Princess of Azura, and of Calate, and she would bow before no one. Begging and crawling may indeed come later, after, but not today. Not now.

As the crowd of gathered women waited for whatever fate was about to befall them, she glanced around, searching for the old woman from before, wondering about her fate. Had they left her there to rot? Whipped her to death? In the end it mattered not, she supposed. Fara could worry about herself only. She may not survive this, but if she did, then she could see to saving others. Like a Princess of Ethis was born to do.

The hush fell over the Zybar guards first.

They straightened and stood to attention, as though a silent command had been issued to all of them at once. She had heard no such command.  The line of leather and tanned skin parted for a group of six Leothines. They walked tall and with grace, with arrogance and entitlement, towards the crowd of gathered women, who hushed at once upon sight of the warriors.

Fara was on the third line of women, they had been arranged by size and age; smallest and youngest at the front, the oldest closer to death at the rear. They would be used as cooks and camp slaves most likely — worked to death. The youngest — she couldn't think of what they may be used for. She had heard the stories, disgusting haunting stories of what happened to children during war, and she felt her anger rise and her resolve dull slightly. If she announced who she was and threw herself at the mercy of these beasts and asked them to spare the children, would it work? Could she bargain with Torrik of Zybar? What promise would she have to make to Valdr to have him come?  Would he be more inclined to help Azura now that Galyn and Sylvan were dead? How many children could she save with this plan? She glanced around, there were so many, but at the same time not enough. She had to think with calm, with sense. She would find a way out. Find a way to save them all.