For the next five days the kingdom was in mourning for the people killed and soldiers lost to the Asian tribe from the East. While most of those from the tent city were buried by their families on a flat hilltop not far from the foot of the Altai Mountain range, the others like Revlur, deemed as heroes by their king, were afforded a regal burial on a different plateau. It was a place they called in their Scythian tongue, the "Eternal Doorway." It was a hallowed area reserved for the most revered of their clan to be put to rest. And it was their assumption and belief system that these heroic souls would depart to another realm called the "Land of the Chosen." Only former kings, great warriors, wives of the king, great myth-tellers, and sometime princesses were buried here.
It took two days for the citizens of Sharvur's citizenry to pile high the great mounds of earth on top of the burial chambers preserved in the cold ground. After this the people of his domain formed caravans back by horses and crude wagons across the barren plain to the foot of the stone mountain which housed his palace of tunnels and passageways.
On the seventh day following the siege, when Sharvur's kingdom repelled the Asians, he called for a large banquet to take place, honoring his generals and their families in the great hall of his palace. It was made clear to Branka, Svetlana and Zaria that they must also attend this gala night, dressed in their finest apparel made by Sharvur's slaves specifically for each of them. As the hour of the gathering approached the girls nervously speculated as to why they would be in attendance at such a meeting of Sharvur's most powerful and prestigious families.
When the time finally came for the sumptuous food and drink to be brought out, the three girls were seated at a place unnoticed by the crowd, at the orders one of Sharvur's assistants. Suddenly to the sound of joyous music heralded in by a procession of flute players and drummers, Sharvur entered the hall wearing all red and donning a tall pointed hat, a symbol of prominence. Everyone stood silent in his presence as he made his way to an elevated platform in the center of the room. There he held up both hands while the crowd did the same in greeting him. After turning a complete circle, acknowledging all of his select guests, he dropped his hands, signaling everyone so be seated once more. In a loud voice, which the girls had never heard before, Sharvur addressed his subjects. His voice was joyous and uplifting. He praised their efforts to maintain a strong society and thanked them all for their courage and ferocity in successfully thwarting their Eastern enemy some eight days before.
"And now it is time for you all to know that we the Pazyryk have been blessed with a very special gift from the West," he said, much to the intrigue of the gathering.
The girls held their breath with anxiety as to what he would say next to the large crowd.
"My faithful and ever-wise counselor Krido selected for me sometime ago a very beautiful and exceptional slave. She was chosen out of three which were brought to me as gifts. Her presence, along with her two friends, have been kept in this palace for over six moons."
The girls looked at each other in trepidation as Sharvur seemed ready to announce a decree which would obviously affect each of their lives, perhaps forever.
"This young woman has been blessed with a power, proven eight days ago, and which I am very grateful to possess in my kingdom." he told them. "And that is the power of tranquility and peace for the Pazyryk people. It is a power which, if never defiled, will insure the continued safety and happiness of all of you, my people."
The crowd began to whisper regarding this announcement incessantly and was becoming observably restive. Sharvur raised his hands to immediately silence them. "This girl I will bring forward now . . . so that you may recognize her this day forward . . . as my princess."
Sharvur's female assistant signaled emphatically for Zaria to rise and walk to the center of the room where the king awaited her. At first she was motionless, too frightened and shocked by this proclamation to even move. A quick and painful jerk of her hair by the royal assistant, who also gave her a life-threatening look, compelled Zaria to rise as the crowd expected. She walked reluctantly forward to be with Sharvur on the platform.
Zaria was dressed in a bright yellow and full-length dress. Her hair was brushed out fully and she wore, by orders that evening, the golden headband she was given by the king since her arrival at the palace. The other two girls stayed seated and held their breath in total fear, hoping there would be no accounting or further mention of them. Each wore a green, short dress and matching bronze arm bands in the forms of grazing deer.
Sharvur reached out, exposing his tattooed arm, to take Zaria's trembling hand. He helped her up to the platform and she looked out timidly at the many citizens of the king. They all seemed to be sizing her up for beauty and her newly announced position among his court officials.
"I present to you officially tonight Zaria, now my princess, who has shown . . . as predicted by our incomparable Krido, that her innocence will keep our enemies incapable of defeating us"
The crowd began slowly to clap their hands and stomp their feet on the floor in positive acknowledgement of Sharvur's decree.
"We will all do what is necessary in this kingdom to preserve this great and pure gift from nature from it's more evil hand."
Zaria held her head down, far too meek to look any longer into the great room. She could feel all eyes hungrily and skeptically upon her, those dark and those innocent. The men—who now longed to have her. The women—who by their jealous instincts, wanted her to fail or fall from this grace. And yet there were the younger girls present who saw her fate as unimaginably fortuitous and admirable.
Sharvur continued to hold Zaria's hand as a sign of his royal connection to her. He then paused and raised his other hand, signaling another announcement to his subjects.
"And now . . . I wish to reward a hero among us," he said, once again causing a hush in the room. "You all know that the charm of Zaria could not have been realized was it not for the efforts of a few great warriors working on the side of this great prophesy. And they exceeded themselves in heroism and the talents of warfare. I now call my brave general Murka forward this night, so that we might behold a true hero in our presence."
Murka stood from where he was seated in the middle of the banquet hall and walked forward. He bounded effortlessly up onto the platform, his great physique seen as a paragon of manhood to the crowd. He wore the thick leather over-garment of a warrior and his light brown hair was tied back, reaching one of his shoulders.
"This man, who lost . . . as we all did, a brother to the enemy siege, went on to fight at the gates of the palace. He helped to save me, his king . . . and all those who attend me there."
Sharvur nodded toward Zaria and then looked directly at Svetlana and Branka seated off the side.
"He is great and he is powerful! But most of all, he is loyal to our Scythian nation. And for this I declare him a living hero to be honored among all of us his whole life. He will be rewarded by me for this in my own way."
Both Branka and Svetlana looked down at the floor, contemplating what the king would do. They feared greatly what he would say to the crowd. For they had been warned only days before by Moshtok, their teacher, that their king was known to give his slaves as gifts. And it was to his generals, they recalled, for bravery and loyalty. The girls nervously held each others' hand, with eyes kept down, hoping their names would not be called to appear in front of the crowd. And especially to not be humiliatingly given that evening as a gift to a man.
Fortunately, Sharvur made no such public announcement of this, though they were most mindful that it was now in his plans.
"I ask you all to give thanks to the power of nature and the good fortune we now have for a strong and prosperous future," he said, concluding his speech. "May you all enjoy this feast of celebration tonight!"
With this scores of workers and slaves carried out baskets of food—fruits, cooked meats, and containers of a strong, intoxicating drink they all loved and imbibed at such gatherings, made from fermented mountain teas and honey. Zaria was expected to stay seated near Sharvur and dine at his side. For now the other two girls could only look at the food, as their appetite and thirst had been lost to a strong dread of the future.
* * *
That night, following the banquet and the merrymaking with music and conversation, all the guests finally retired from the palace—most back to the tent city. The three girls were told to go immediately to Sharvur's bedchamber. With Zaria taking her place at his side, seated on the bed, as was now the custom, the other girls were told to dance for their king while his favorite flutist presented them tambourines and began his energetic, sensual melodies.
As the girls danced with pseudo-enthusiasm, Sharvur asked Zaria what it was she wished as a gift from him to inaugurate her announcement as "princess" that evening.
"Surely there is something I can present you with, Zaria. Something which you will want to remember this evening with." Sharvur seemed genuinely humble and content.
Speaking clearly and in his own language, she told her king there was nothing she wanted. Only for him to be fair and gentle with her two friends. To grant them safety in the future.
Sharvur was silent for a moment. "I will keep that request in mind," he said finally, a little annoyed with her dispassionate response. "You can think of nothing? As your king I can give you anything. You provided me a great service for my kingdom during that battle, Zaria, and for that I am grateful. Tell me what it is you want in return."
"I can think of nothing!" She said emphatically, turning her head away from him in defiance.
"Branka! Svetlana!
The king called out to them, himself showing his anger.
"Remove your clothing!You are now to dance for me . . . naked!"
The music stopped momentarily. The girls were motionless. They were in shock at what he had just ordered them to do.
Sharvur stood up. "I don't suppose you wish for me to get my whip?"
"NO!" They responded as one.
Each girl removed her dress and sandals. At the waving of his hand, they were signaled to continue in taking off even the small undergarment they wore for modesty and hygiene. Soon they were both standing naked before him and he signaled for the music to continue—for them to dance on. He obviously expected them to also move suggestively now to the rhythm of their tambourines.
Zaria tried to protest but Sharvur's fierce, angry look prevented even a word from her.
"You will dance the best you know how tonight!"
He then lay triumphantly back on a large pillow to watch them enjoyably, in the candlelight.
In deference to the girls' embarrassment and discomfort, Zaria turned away and looked at the ornate wall covering. It depicted the king with his bow and arrow poised, stalking a graceful deer.
"Tonight I will decide," Sharvur said. "Which of you I keep for myself and which I give to the brave and worthy Murka. For one of you will be my gift to him for his heroism."
Each girl was too shocked to stop or react now to what she had regrettably expected all along. They only danced more expressively, the way they had seen the women who previously danced before him. Those lurid expressions were unnatural for their young age, but movements which they knew would please any man. Zaria just held her head down, feeling too ashamed to watch them.
Finally after several minutes of lively music and a pulsing, sensual beat, Sharvur raised his hand and the musician stopped playing. He motioned for the girls to come forward. To stand before him, still awkwardly naked. They cowered uncomfortably in the soft light of the candles.
"Turn around," he said in a weaker voice. "I want to see you both for the last time together."
The girls complied—painfully turning in a small circle as they felt Sharvur's eyes scrutinizing every part of them.
"Fine," he said with finality. "I have decided."
Each girl's heart pounded as she awaited this final sentencing.
Again Zaria tried to speak but the king's raised hand made her freeze in fear of what he was capable of doing to one or both of the girls at that moment.
"Branka. . . you are to remain with me. Tonight we shall celebrate that."
All three girls were silent. Unmoving.
"Svetlana you will go to the home of Murka tomorrow and from that day on . . . become his personal slave. You are to be a gift from me. His thankful king."
The girls were as yet speechless. Their fate was decided all so suddenly.
Zaria finally spoke to break the silence.
"I know now what I want from you," she said to Sharvur in a quiet but resolved voice.
"What?" he asked turning to her curiously.
"I have decided . . . that which you can grant me."
"As your king I can provide you with anything, princess. What ever you choose."
"Then I want all three of us girls to have . . . a tattoo," she said, looking at her two quiet and dejected friends. "To be all the same. Something to keep us together no matter where we are. . . who we are with. No matter what happens to us."
The other girls were still too shocked to respond. To embarrassed to move or speak. They stood with both hands in front of them to cover what was left of their lost modesty.
"Fine. Your request will be granted, Zaria. And tomorrow I will provide you all with the best tattoo artist in my kingdom. He will create this single mark you wish upon all of your bodies."
Zaria nodded with some consolation. And then the king thought for a moment.
"But you shall not have the same design as the other two, Zaria." Sharvur admonished. "You are different. You are now royal in this palace. And you will be shown as royal for all eternity. Even with this mark you decide to leave upon your body."
With that the king ordered the other two girls to dress quickly.
"Tomorrow shall be the last day you will all live close together again," he said firmly. "Branka you will keep your same quarters, except on nights when I request for you to sleep with me. Zaria, you will be given your own larger room in this palace . . . private, with your own attendants. And Svetlana . . . following this tattooing with your friends tomorrow, you will be sent to the home of my military general, Murka."
The robust, shapely girl looked helplessly to Zaria for consolation.
"You will then be in his charge," Sharvur ordered. "He is a worthy man, and I assume he will be fair and gentle with you. He will know when you arrive that you are a gift from me."
For several moments the girls moved together and embraced. They shed quiet tears over this future departure.
Zaria and Svetlana left that night together for their rooms, knowing all of their lives from that moment on would irreversibly change. Their hearts and fears were now with Branka—their equally innocent friend. For she would this night experience what one other of them would carnally know soon enough. The last of them, however, was pledged by her king to never taste of that mysterious and dreaded act—neither its pain nor its joy.
* * *