Inka didn't look back. She believed in the Chieftess who ruled their tribe since their father's passing. She gathered the women and children, hiding them in a small cave veiled by a treacherous sandfall.
A single candle illuminated the darkness as she ensured everyone was safe and accounted for. Bending down to Lupa, she gave him the oil lamp and fastened a cloth mask over her face. "Stay here. I'm going to scout the area and make sure the traps are working."
It was obvious her brother didn't want her to leave, the tinge of fear on his face obvious but, he nodded bravely. "Don't be gone too long."
She kissed the top of his head and hurried to the exit, ascending the sandfall by climbing the embedded rocks and heaving herself to the top. From her vantage point, she spotted the distant torches fast approaching the village.
A vague sense of premonition bloomed within her chest, making her heart race. Thus far, her intuition had never been wrong. Ensuring her knife was secured, she checked the traps, and slinked back into the village.
As she prowled the shadows, the clatter of thundering hooves and horse whining assaulted her ears. Eager to see the unfolding scene, she scaled a nearby roof and crawled on her belly to spy on the intruders.
It was dark but she caught the evident silhouette of her mother standing tall and proud to confront the Crimson King and his army of foot soldiers.
However, the one who enthralled her was the commanding figure atop a sleek, coal-black stallion. She couldn't see him clearly except for the hard lines of his armored body. Both master and horse formed a vision so compelling, they were magnets to the eyes, making it impossible to look away.
The Crimson King exuded an implicit aura of authority — his back ramrod stiff and unyielding like his alleged personality. He wore a magnificent bronze helmet, its arched crest adorned with exotic plumes of alternative gold and black marking his prestige. His polished armor reflected the embers of the crackling fire as he regarded the tribe dispassionately.
"To what pleasure do we owe this visit, Your Majesty?" Her mother addressed him, a subtle bite in her tone.
When he spoke, Inka stiffened. His voice was a deep, masculine timbre that sent shivers skating down her spine. It matched the rest of him – polished, dark, and inflexible. "Oh? And here I thought I did a good job covering my tracks."
"Unfortunately, our peddlers caught wind of your arrival. I hate to disappoint you but the man you are looking for is not here. Kusunagi hasn't returned. I think it's best if you take your army and leave. We don't want any trouble here."
"I will be glad to—" he paused for effect, lowering his head to meet the Chieftess's gaze. "—after I conduct a thorough search to confirm that you are not harboring a traitor in your camp."
The Chieftess swept an arm around her home. "Be my guest, but I would like to stress that neither my people nor I have anything to do with Kusunagi's conspiracy. I've only been informed about his betrayal and I do not support his ideals. Those you see here only want to live in peace."
The Crimson King didn't respond, his distrustful eyes locked with the Chieftess's. After a moment, he snapped his fingers and the soldiers fanned out.
Inka gasped, afraid to be caught.
Quick as lightning, she leapt to the ground and broke into a run. On the verge of leaving the perimeter, an outburst of horrified cries stopped her dead in her tracks. It sounded like a flock of sheep being attacked by wolves.
Skin prickling with dread, she circled back and choked in dismay at the sight of her beautiful village under attack. It was a chaotic mess. Men pounced and grappled with their fists, some slashing mercilessly with their weapons. Blood spilled and bodies were brutally trampled beneath rampant horses.
This was a nightmare!
Inka had one goal in mind – to find her mother. Shoving through the melee, she desperately searched for her mother's dark head. A large man collided into her and she fell, crying out from the impact on her shoulder. Bracing on her forearms, her wild eyes landed on the Crimson King and her mother — in a standoff. Horror overwhelmed her when he pointed his sword at the Chieftess's head.
"Etsi!" she roared hoarsely.
Jumping to her feet, Inka sprinted with fear as the adrenaline pumped through her veins. Everything appeared to slow down as the Emperor lifted his sword and swung. Pushing her muscles harder, Inka threw herself against him and — WHAM! They crashed into the dirt.
"Inka!" Her mother's distress was drowned out by the tide of battling men. The Chieftess was swept away by them, unable to save her daughter.
A groan slipped from Inka's lips. She winced at the sharpness digging into her thighs, pushing up with her palms flattened against warm, hard steel, only to realize she was straddling the enemy. Face flaming with embarrassment, she struggled to get up when the Emperor smoothly rolled them over, reversing their positions.
Now, the point of his sharp weapon dug into her neck.
Heart racing, her eyes wandered up his shiny breastplate before clashing with a pair of dark, wintry eyes. Her mouth dried up at the coldness reflected in them, piercing right through her soul. Unlike the times she had wrestled with wild beasts, this man instilled a different kind of fear — a threat to her as a woman.
Inka swallowed hard.
"Who are you?" he demanded roughly, ripping off her mask. The movement caused his weapon to nick her skin and a warm rivulet of blood trailed down the side of her neck.
Her voice trembled slightly. "I-Inka…Your Majesty,"
Waya! How pitiful she sounded! Yet, it couldn't be helped.
The Emperor's name was whispered in fear and reverence. Lying here beneath his hefty weight and broad shoulders, she sensed his prominence ─ strong, dangerous, and uncompromisingly male. Though fearful, the quintessentially feminine part of her recognized the virile made in him – a desirable mate.
An inscrutable emotion akin to confusion flashed in his eyes as they studied each other. Inka didn't dare break the connection, not when he was glaring so intently. Any sudden movements and he might slit her throat. She was too young to die!
His intensity turned her breathless and lightheaded. Oddly, she wasn't repulsed by him as her body responded to his closeness. Her skin tingled as indescribable warmth spread out from her chest to the tips of her throbbing nipples. This was her first sexual awareness to a man.
He must have seen something in her eyes because his own glittered dangerously – like an animal reacting to its own.
The enigmatic tension between them shattered when a body fell nearby. Seizing the distraction, she closed her hand around her hidden blade and parried his weapon, knocking it away for a split second before forcefully shoving him aside. It was futile, for it felt like moving a boulder but, by a miracle the Emperor slackened his grip. Inka took off like a spooked mare, not questioning why he chose to spare her life.
All she knew was, she had to find her mother. The Chieftess was in trouble. She felt it down to her bones.
Inka's heart stuttered when she found her mother accosted by Kusunagi himself.
But that couldn't be!
He was missing! If he was here…then something wasn't right.
Kusunagi and her mother were arguing when he hurled the Chieftess's sword aside, punched her in the stomach and speared his blade into her gut.
Inka's eyes widened in horror. Fresh blood spilled to the ground. "No! No! No!" she yelled hysterically, pushing forward but there were too many warriors blocking her path. "Etsi!"
She watched helplessly as her mother's limp body buckled.
Inka didn't know how long she stood there; the din drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears. An array of emotions bombarded her ─ pain, despair, rage, and lastly, denial.
They fused into intense hatred, radiating from the depths of her heart. Anger was a wall of white noise in her head. Channeling her inner rage, she charged blindly at her mother's murderer.
"Kusunagi!" she bellowed hideously; her face distorted with vengeance. "I'll kill you!"
Inka was a mass of turbulent fury with the primal hunger to kill. It unfurled within her soul as she imagined ripping him to shreds and feeding his innards to the wolves. The Ashina believed the dead only rested in peace after given a proper burial. She would never grant this traitor the privilege of peace in the afterlife. She wanted him to burn for eternity.
Kusunagi didn't even blink. He faced her boldly with a cocky grin that served to incense her further. "You're dead, Kusunagi!" She raised her knife.
Midway, something hit her squarely in the back and it took a few seconds to register she had been shot. Another pinch in her calf sent her tumbling facedown. She cried out at the lancing pain between her shoulder blades — a sign her muscles were torn.
Heavy footsteps approached, and she lifted hate-filled eyes to Kusunagi.
"I won't kill you yet, Inka," he remarked vaguely. "You're a valuable asset for the future, so be a good girl and go to sleep."
"What are you -," she slurred, panicking when her tongue numbed, and her eyelids grew heavy. "Kusu-nagi-,"
Her vision blurred and she reached out to him, but it was useless.
All she perceived was his shadowy figure turning to leave, accompanied by his evil laughter resonating in the recess of her mind.
And then darkness.
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