"I can't imagine what the king of D'treroh could have for a half naked barbarian. What is it you want, Ragnar?" Azariah asked while finally picking herself up from the floor. Her gaze was narrowed in barely leashed anger and suspicion. He thought forcing her to bow would make her respect him but again that was something people earned. Even rulers. That was what really set apart barbarians from the civilized. It wasn't surprising that he was blind in more way than one.
Ragnar was still standing from where he had risen, one blind grey eye narrowed while the other one remained in its natural state; a glare in her direction that could've made the goddess of death herself shiver. "Could want, not have, barbarian," He corrected her poor english and twisted a ring around on his index finger using his thumb. "And I heard you're your mothers favorite. Which is why you and your snot nose brother are here. Because you're leverage and useful. What all do you know about your mother?"
Her bound wrists chafed as she shifted in her bonds. The old man clearly liked to hear himself talk, stating the obvious while demanding answers from her. It was stated as a question but everyone knew it was more of a demand painted nicely. "I know that she is my mother and the leader of our tribe. Her name is Ja'harra. She has a daughter and a son and a nation you're threatening constantly for reasons only the gods themselves know."
Ragnar pulled out a dagger that was in a leather sheath at his hip, staring down the gleaming silver blade. "She gives you more information than that. Was she planning a counter attack or just defending?"
"She doesn't tell me those kinds of things. I'm her daughter not a general. She only got the message recently." Azariah shrugged. "No one got the chance to make a decision before your soldiers came attacking people."
"I heard you were the one that hid it from her. Why?" Ragnar twisted the blade slowly in his hand.
"I was sparing her from the burden of choosing. We aren't a violent people but everyone has an opinion on how it should have been handled."
"Do you know there's a spy among you?" Another question that seemed random but could've had some hidden meaning. He lowered back down into his throne. "We needed your people but you chose to turn a blind eye. I do bad things for very good reason, but sometimes your people are too idiotic to see that."
She shook her head at him. "You do bad things for selfish reasons. What you do does not benefit everyone. You are too old, too zealous, and too blind to see it. At least an idiot can be excused with stupidity." Azariah's bristled at the insult to her home and everyone she held dear. "Do you care not for the man's life to send him to spy? No good will come of it."
"Name something selfish ignorant child, and I might let you keep your tongue." He didn't hesitate when he threw the dagger so quick it had sunk into her thigh before she could even move out the way. "You don't know anything. Only what your mother tells you. A little barbarian pup trying to fit her mother's too big shoes. Isn't that why she told you weren't ready? Quick to the temper and quick to the bloodshed despite it being against your ways?" He laughed and it sounded like deep crackling lightning.
Azariah nearly fell to one knee from the force of his throw though she caught herself, readjusting her stance. The words that he taunted her with were the very words her mother had told her on the beach days before the attack. There was no way he should have known that unless they really had been betrayed. "You've taken slaves. You kidnapped innocent women and children to force others to do what you want." Her face fell into a mock pout. "Devastating to think even as much as I admire my mother I am still my own person, huh? Isn't this the reason you've lost favor with your prince?"
"Those slaves are from Eli'ak, so don't blame me for the fact they were like that. Some laws can't be undone. That's how I know you still have some growing up to do. I didn't say you wanted to be her. I said you wanted her position." Ragnar looked at her expectantly and opened his hand, as if he was beckoning for her to pull it out and bring it to him. "My prince lost favor with me. Not the other way around. He's too greedy for his own good. And lie all you want, you are greedy too. I can see it in your eyes girl."
"You don know me." Calluses fingers wrapped around the hilt, the only thing visible from her leg, yanking it out. Crimson droplets slid onto the floor staining the cold marble floors with her blood. Azariah drew back her arms and tossed it at his feet. "I don know why you think listening to you is better than the words of my mother. The disrespect you show knows no bounds. If you're done, I'd like to go sit in whatever dark cell you picked just for me." Her smile was all teeth and no humor.
"Like I said you have a spy. I don't have to personally know you." He shrugged, watching as she wrapped her hands around the hilt of his knife and pulled it free. There was a bored look that crossed his rugged features, like he'd seen this far too many times and wasn't overly excited about the sight of it. Ragnar glimpsed down at the knife that embedded into the space of the stone between his feet. Pulling it free, he threw it again this time into her opposite thigh. "Your mother thinks them to be true too, but go ahead, to believe my words. You'll reap the price." Lifting a hand, he waved toward the door. "Go ahead, leave then. I'll just chat with your little brother, Acachi, was it? Later."
The mention of her little brother made her stop in her tracks, the smile wiped from her face. How could she forget that his life was riding on the line too? Her mother wouldn't forgive her if she allowed him to suffer for her own insolence once again. Azariah took a deep breath, letting her shoulders drop. "Sorry," she forced through her teeth.
"You don't have to apologize if you don't mean it. Just learn to think before losing that barbaric tongue of yours. That's all I wanted to speak to you about. It isn't like you're willing to tell me more that you know, and if I pommel you for it, there'd be smear marks akins to shit stains all over my floors." Gesturing at the door toward Xavien, he stepped forward. "Give her a parting gift."
Xavien nodded and opened his mouth. A blast sent her across the room and slamming into the wall. Before she could slump down, he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and tossed her into the air, jumping as well so he could spin and bring the heel of his foot down onto her stomach. Azariah's back arched as she fell, hitting the floor. He was standing over her now, leaning down and punching her in the face a good fifteen times, then taking her up onto her feet so she could receive ten more slaps from left to right.
"That's enough." Ragnar said.
Xavien turned and said, "Are you sure?"
"Hm," He ran a hand down his face. "Take her to the cell. And remove that."
Xavien yanked the second blade free.
"Hm. Cut her hair and send it to her mother...." Ragnar's gaze slowly shifted to her once more. "Tomorrow. I'll give her one more wildlin day of freedom. You call me selfish and a numeral amount of other things. I'll give you a bit of what you claim I am, blind child. Let's see if you'll ever be in your mother's position shamed and bald." He gestured them off.
Xavien grabbed the upper portion of her arms and pushed her forward toward the door, holding the extended chain and guiding her out into the hall.
"Don't shove her like that," Akachi said, running up behind Xavien and kicking him hard enough in the crease of his leg that they buckled. Swiftly he stood and sent a glare at the boy. "She's capable of walking on her own. And had your king not threw a knife in both her thighs she'd be walkin fasta."
Azariah muttered beneath her breath in Kovyan about having no king, not one who would rule his people with fear and terror. She smiled despite that it pained her to do so; both eyes nearly swollen shut, a busted lip, and a bleeding nose to match. "Don't worry, little brother. I'm okay." She spat a glob of coagulated blood on the floor before straightening as much as she could. She still walked with a limp but it was much less drastic than before.
The man's nose flared. "You better tell your brother not to touch me again. And if you know what's best for you, woman, you better keep your mouth shut. You should know the king has no problems taking limbs or lives."
"Do you want me to tell him or to keep quiet?" Even if she did tell him there was little she could do to quell his rebellious spirit. She could hardly handle her own.
"I said keep quiet to the king. The way you speak to him. Someone smarter would hold their tongue. But if you wish to remain quiet during your walk to your cage, as you wish. That choice is yours." Xavien said.
Akachi tucked himself against Azariah's side and whispered, "I'll gladly take another hit across the head if you let me bite him." Truly he'd gotten his fierce ways from her.
Xavien gave Azariah another look, though this time his white brow was raised.
"That's a tempting offer but you'd probably get sick." She gave him a playful nudge. "Let me be the one to get in trouble. It's my job to protect you." Although she whispered loud enough that Xayvien could hear as well, "I'll bite him for you instead."
"As ferocious as you act, I wouldn't be surprised if you foamed out the mouth and had rabies. I'd rather not." He pulled at her chains.
Akachi laughed and then cupped a hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't have laughed about that. Sorry, Zar." He frowned.
The fact that he could still laugh despite their situation made her feel a bit better, nudging him again with her elbow. "At this point it's a compliment. Don apologize."
When they were walking through the halls Akachi glimpsed up at her. "Let me convince them to cut my hair. I ain't let them touch yours. I know the women of our culture values it just as much as their people."
Azariah didn't want him to see the shame in her honeyed gaze and had he not been there, she might have even cried. Instead she turned away to glare at the stone walls of the dungeon. Their hair was everything. It was proof of their values and a symbol of their ancestry. To cut a woman's hair was to make her nothing. "No. I'd miss seeing your cute little curls too much. This is my fault so let me deal with it."
There was a small silence that lingered between them and Akachi finally broke it by saying in a very light voice, "Your mother might not handle that well."
It was then they reached their prison room once more.
"Many over one." The woman reached over to tousle his hair. "I will be fine as long as you promise to love your big sister regardless of her ugliness. You worry too much." He was too smart and perceptive for his age. The quiet sigh she released was drowned out by the eerie echoes in the palace prison. Hair or no hair, she would have to find a way to get them out.