The Tattooed Princess

The Kingdom in Turmoil

            Just then a guard came back into the room and both girls froze in fear. They  waited to hear the worst news which might involve either or both of them. The armed man just told Branka to go back to her chamber. And he had no further words for Zaria. 

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            In Sharvur's quarters that early evening came his wise counselor, Krido. He had come to give his king both comfort and advice. The old man entered slowly, showing his limited mobility and wearing his red suit of clothing—a thick silk top and pants. He also had, on this occasion, a red pointed cap, tall with earflaps. It was an iconic look which the court and citadel of the Pazyryk had seen the old man wear for decades, but  only on important dates and in the midst of high drama or a threat to the kingdom.

            Krido carried his tall staff and strained to sit up on the edge of Sharvur's bed. He looked disapprovingly down at the makeshift mattress the king had installed for his own new and cathartic entertainment.

            "Sharvur, I have come to you tonight because of what I hear . . . and what I fear. And because I love our kingdom . . . as you do."

            The king did not smile or make any formal greeting of his old counselor. He only glared at him with a single-minded and distant expression.

            "I know you are not well from what has happened to you, my king. But I ask that you refrain from your actions as they are precipitous and dangerous to us all."

            "No, Krido. I will not rest until I feel justice here!" The king said this sitting up with obvious difficulty.

            "Sending our finest warriors out into this raging cold and with such impossible demands only shows you are not  . . . prudent in your thinking these days."

            "Those men are trained well! And they can achieve my orders. The sooner they succeed, the sooner they may return. . . to their warm tents and families."

            "This also leaves us at a greater risk to attack, Sharvur. Not something you would normally do."

            "I have calculated we have enough men and generals to put up a decent fight were we to find ourselves under siege in this weather," Sharvur said, convinced of his logic.

            "And what about the girl?" Do you no longer trust in her powers? I was informed you plan to  have her ravaged for your own entertainment. Here . . . in this room."

            Sharvur smiled strangely. "I have not decided about that just yet. I will have to see at the time. If I can resist the temptation to see her deflowered."

        The old counslor looked down again at the floor mattress.

        "Two nights ago. I was able to resist it. But I do not know about tonight or any other night. If  I will permit of my new weapon of destruction to do it's able deed. Perhaps there is no truth to her powers, Krido. Perhaps she is like any other slave which I have the right as king to molest at my will."

            "I am here to caution you, Sharvur. I see you dangerously out of the control you need to be in. To maintain our people and territories. You have been . . . unhinged by this terrible deed, but must somehow now return to your senses. For the sake of us all."

            "I will consider what you have said, old friend. Now leave me to my own ways. And if you hear my men bring back that warrior woman who stole from me my greatest joy, you will be appalled at what will befall her . . . right here in this chamber. It can be imagined only by a man of my sickness and great loss."

        Sharvur looked over to the corner of the room, at the covered bowl which he had ordered to be filled with ice each day.

            As was Krido's habit, the old man got up prepared to leave early. It was something he did when he no longer saw a reason to stay.

            "Just beware my king. Of all consequences. Something you used to be so skilled at."

            With that, the old man used his gnarled staff to slowly assist him across the room with a loud tapping toward to the exit. The shadow of his pointed hat proceeded him in the bright torch lights of Sharvur's chamber, and he did not look back once at the king, simmering sill in his disconsolate mood.

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            Later that night, as was Zaria's fear, she was summoned to the king's bedchamber once again. And as before Sharvur was waiting for her, sitting up painfully, but with great enthusiasm. It was what he anticipated to be another evening to give him some satisfaction and relief from his agony and destroyed pride.

            As the king clapped his hands loudly, Arpada, in all his robust glory, enetered into to room again. This time he was half dressed and obviously ready to remove both his own and the clothing of Zaria upon command.

            As Zaria stood at the foot of Sharvur's bed and waited for  the ordeal to begin, she feared it would go much farther on this night. But suddenly, there came the sound of slow footsteps and a wooden staff clicking across the floor. All three participants in the impending sexual performance quickly turned and watched as Krido once again entered into Sharvur's private world of pleasure.

           He seemed strangely out of breath and serious.

         "My king, I must stop your proceedings tonight. I have the gravest of news. Which I believe you will see . . . relates to this very act!"

            "What is this interruption, Krido! I have already spoken to you tonight! I need not see you further. Now be gone!

           No, my king. There is a terrible event emerging . . . as we speak. It began two days before on the evening of your first assault upon this vestal virgin and our protectoress. It apparently was a sacrilege to her power, as the city is experiencing a sickness. It is gripping all. Men womem and children. It is a fever, my king. Like no other we have ever seen! And it threatens to engulf us all. I can only advise that it has occurred. . . because of your lust and what you do here with Zaria. It is truly against the wellbeing of our own people!."

            Arpada and Zaria were frozen with awe at what the old man had announced. Both immediately moved away from each other. The king was silent and deep in thought.

            "I am sorry, Sharvur, but this outbreak of disease is rapidly spreading. I see clearly that you and your evil is the cause of it. I implore you, my king, to cease with anymore of this defilemen. You must leave our princess alone and let her be chaste . . . as was always advised of you!"

            Without waiting further, the old man reached out with a wrinkled hand  for Zaria to join him in exiting the chamber. This she did, leaving a confused and demented Sharvur seated upright and astonished in his bed. Next to him was the once eager and aroused Arpada, now cooling down at the edge of the mattress.

        Under a type of hierarchical coup, instigated by wisdom and self-preservation of the realm, the old man in his red silk apparel led Zaria, once again as princess, back to her roomy chamber. There he told the guards, instead of preventing her leaving, to protect her from the king at all costs. 

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