The Tattooed Princess

The Cruelest Winter

        It had been now almost twenty days since Sharvur's shocking attack and loss of manhood by the Amazon, Aella. And following his near defilement of Zaria, who had been rescued by Krido and returned to her elaborate quarters—reports continued to come in about the severity of the sickness now plagueing the Pazyryk people. Word of the feverish demise of the Scythian tribe came to him with a vengeance during these freezing and final days of his convalescence.

            At the insistence of his aged advisor, the king made a painful ride out with the old man into the cold to see the extent of the curse which both were convinced Sharvur's own cruel lust had created over the land. Virtually everywhere he rode in the kingdom his people scowled at him. And this they did in the midst of carrying their dead out of the tents and shelters where they had been confined in the depths of  winter.

            So many had already expired from this pernicious fever—which no one could remember striking their people in the past with such a heartless vengeance. Citizens of all ages were succumbing to the disease quickly, and no family seemed immune to the curse which had taken one, and sometimes many members of a family within a matter of days.

            "I did not know it was this bad, my king," Krido told Sharvur, sadly, as they rode along the snowy paths between small tent settlements. The dead were simply being stacked one atop the other in some cases, frozen in the icy air for later burial when the wind and snow would subside.

            "I . . .I  will just have to return to honoring her," Sharvur said, shaken and moved by the horrific scenes before him. The men were careful to not dismount or get close to those on the streets. They kept a distance from  the forlorn people outside their abodes grimly watching Sharvur pass by.

            "She must be brought back to her position as princess. Our royal protectoress, Krido. I must never consider . . . to ever molest her again! Perhaps now . . .my immediate and better treatment of her will lessen this terrible plague upon us."

            "You are the king, Sharvur. You must act accordingly," Krido said with resolve. The old man had been moved to tears by the devastation he witnessed as several stretchers of small, wrapped bodies were carried passed them on the narrow street. 

                                                                 *     *     *

            That night Sharvur made an unannounced visit to Zaria's chamber where she had been under guarded protection from him. As he entered, closely attended by guards, Zaria was immediately concerned that he would ask her to follow him back to his terrible bedchamber. This, however, was not Sharvur's intention, as he now seemed a different, more contrite man. He had obviously been humbled by the immensity and shock of the scenario he witnessed that afternoon in the company of Krido.

            "I come to you tonight, Zaria, with a changed heart. I do not want you to ever fear my lust again. For I have learned a powerful lesson today about your legitimate powers . . . and my sacrilege of them. I come here as a promise to honor  your value to us once more. And . . . to make  that promise my highest priority."

            Zaria did not speak. She just continued sitting by the warm fireplace of her chamber, covered by one of her favorite wool shawls. The ugliness of the naked Arpada and what he had done to her upon Sharvur's commands had not been washed clean from her mind.

            "You will have more freedom now in this palace," Sharvur stated. "And I will continue to grant you what you wish . . . as before."

            Zaria now looked up at Sharvur, this terrible man she loathed more than anything in the world.

            "Can you guarantee that I will never be brought back into your bedchamber again?" she asked.