Chapter 99: Captive 7
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The tension in the Throneroom so was so thick, Ghehena thought you could carve it.
At any moment, he was expecting to receive an order to chop off the head of Scydhel’s latest acquisition. She was probably just wanting to time the order perfectly with her inner sense of poise. He began to activate qi blade on his massive two-handed sword, which despite its size, he could draw and slice in an instant.
Despite this tension and looming threat, the slave formerly known as Benzhi did not seem worried at all, he was looking for somewhere to sit and failing that sat on the floor as if to begin relaxing here in the Throneroom.
‘What was Scydhel waiting for?’ he wondered.
She walked calmly over to slave with a death wish, she placed a finger under her chin as if in contemplation. She tilted her head to the side an emitted the most potent worship-aura that Ghehena had ever seen her produce. Even he, someone who had served her for over fifty years was shocked, he had to quickly improve his aura-shield it was leaking horrendously, and he was being overcome with thoughts of love and worship for his mistress.
Through tears of adoration, Ghehena slowly reclaimed control of his feelings, she had also lessened her aura. If he had not been so used to it, he would not have been able to manage a weave, let alone regain control.
Even so, if she asked him to die right now, his heart would probably stop beating just to comply with her wishes. He looked at her intended victim, Benzhi or Fury as he called himself now. Again he was shocked by the man, Fury remained unaffected.
He stood and stretched, at least halting his attempt to sit on the Throneroom floor, “look, do you want something? I am tired, and it has been a long day. I realise you just purchased me for a large sum, so I guess you want me to fuck you stupid before I retire? If not, just show me to my room so I can get some rest.”
Ghehena’s willpower was tested three times this night, and on the third time, it failed. A tiny little snort escaped his nostrils.
The noise was minuscule. It was scarcely louder than a deep breath. Yet, Scydhel whirled on him, her eyes ablaze with anger. It was a night of firsts, he had never seen her so angry, even after she lost to one her rivals in a game of intrigue, she had never been this angry.
Scydhel’s nostrils flared, “Are you being entertained?” she said as she stomped across the room to him, “should I debase myself further for you? I cannot kill him, due to the vow I swore to do everything in my power to assist him in winning the Val’Tien, and death is probably not going to achieve that goal. Not to mention I paid three thousand qi kernels for his measly hide. What would the Queen say if I paid this sum only to have his head cut off moments after he arrives? What would she say?” and the last she screamed at him.
“Yes, I would be the laughing stock of the Empire, which may be unavoidable right now, even if I don’t have him dismembered. But you. You,” Scydhel was shrill, “I could have your….wait…” she calmed down a few levels from shrill to mildly angry. “He doesn’t need a tongue to fight, cut out the offending organ.” She ordered Ghehena.
Fury backed up, “you don’t want to try anything you will regret,” he warned Ghehena. Right now the only thing Ghehena could imagine regretting was failing the Daughter of Val’Sharam.
Fury was naked and unarmed, yet he fought Ghehena fiercely and without restraint who was fully armoured and bristling with weapons.
“Let this be your first lesson Fury,” Ghehena stated as he closed.
They exchanged punches at first, Ghehena’s armoured fist against Fury’s bare knuckle. And while the slave had an impeccable qi body armour technique, he was not able to use qi strike. His chest and back were covered in tattoos, there must have been some disabling ones, and one had disabled qi strike.
“We can do this all night,” Ghehena stated, “and you will not be able to damage me, and you know it.” He said between jabs and circling his opponent, “I thought you were tired, let me cut out your tongue and you can rest. Deal?”
Fury did not look like he wanted to quit, no true warrior would surrender without a fight. And some without a fight to the death.
“No deal,” Fury said.
“Then we do this the hard way,” Ghehena went to draw a knife from a black sheath. Just as he placed a hand on it, Fury grappled him. Ghehena had one arm behind his back and Fury locked it in place. Their other hands locking in another struggle. Ghehena had little choice, he committed to a qi headbutt.
Fury’s qi body armour held, but the impact of the headbutt had stunned him slightly, he bent back, dazed. Ghehena drew his knife and moved to bring it forward, but Fury had been foxing, he was not dazed he twisted Ghehena’s hand forcing him to drop the knife. Fury caught it before it reached halfway to the ground. His reflexes were lightning quick.
Ghehena was about to draw his sword when Fury took his newly procured knife and cut his own tongue out. He then threw both knife and tongue on the floor at Scydhel’s feet.
If the outcome Fury having his tongue cut out was her dignity somewhat restored, the fact that the slave did it himself robbed her of any joy.
She walked up to him incensed, ignoring the tongue on the ground, “so you want to be called Fury now?” she balled at him. If it were possible for a light blue Myrkalfar to turn red she was now achieving the demeanour at least if not the colour. “I will teach you what Fury truly means.”
Scydhel was deadly serious. As one of the most fearsome opponents in the empire, her serious was dangerous enough, therefore her deadly serious was off the charts. Fury smiled at her with a bloodied mouth. He said something unintelligible.
No one understood what he said. It just came out as splutter. But the intention was clear. He was saying something with a bloody smile and sanguine demeanour, if she could have understood it, it would have pissed her off immensely. And although no one knew what he said, they all knew it would have been truly disrespectful.
“Even a vow can only protect you so far and for so long,” she said. Scydhel had gone was past livid, she was now into cold fury territory, the words were even and calm. “What happens after the Val’Tien?” she smiled at him.
“Oh don’t be so bashful,” she continued, “I want to hear you. Please tell me oh great Fury, what will become of you after the Val’Tien and after we have taken everything we want from you?”
He shrugged again and smiled this time, he could not talk, but he did something else.
Scydhel jumped backwards screaming, “what have you done!”
Ghehena did not know what Fury did to the Daughter, but he reacted to her fear, he took the butt of his sword and slammed it into the head of Fury, focusing all his might and a devastating qi strike. Even with this power he only broke the qi armour Fury had woven, but the next strike knocked the devil flat.
Ghehena checked Fury’s pulse, it was weak, but he was alive.
“What did he do to you?” Ghehena asked.
“He bonded with me, I…,” she went silent.
Bonded, surely it had to be mutual. Unless it was some kind of new technique where the slave forced a bond on her.
“We need to address these tattoos,” Ghehena stated, “we have no control over any of them, and we need one to remove his ability to use qi body armour, I had trouble breaking it without extreme force.”
Scydhel waved her hand, “yes, whatever..” she was distracted.
“Can you remove the bond?” Ghehena asked, “you should summon the Royal Scholars to assess.”
“I can disconnect the bond, it …was…,” she paused for a moment, “…unexpected.” She pondered further, “We shall see if I can use this to bond, he forgets it has a double edge. In the meantime deal with his tattoos as you see fit. You may need to summon the original sealer, probably from his old region. These things can be much easier undone by the one who did them.”
It came to pass that Ghehena, the epitome of the male Myrkalfar warrior, victor of the Val’Tien, a blooded Myrk Paladin was designated nursemaid to a slave, formerly known as Benzhi. Very few had the capability to deal with the troublesome whelp, his power coupled with his attitude and protection from severe harm was a dangerous recipe. It was a recipe for disaster in Ghehena’s mind.
Not only was Ghehena his jailor, but he also was his primary trainer for the upcoming Val’Tien. As the chosen representative of the House of Val’Sharam, there was no need to go through preliminaries. Any warriors of the house who wished to challenge were welcome, not because of benevolence, they made good training partners. Fury was given free reign to defeat them, which was far better than a practice spar with its restrictions.
After a short investigation, the coterie which tattoed the captive was found. It did not take a lot of convincing or cost to procure their services as they were not beholden to the Royal House of Ileum. They were actually more than happy to perform a service for Scydhel. It did not take long to host their grandmaster sealer and probably due to the status of the client their Doyen deigned to accompany him.
“Doyen,” Ghehena stated, “we wish the sealer to remove all signatures from all tattoos and add mine and the Daughter Scydhel as well as her Gladiator trainer, Rysik.”
“That will not be a problem, but I will need to acquire signatures in person,” the grandmaster sealer explained.
Ghehena nodded, “it is what it is. The Daughter will be down shortly, and I have summoned the trainer.”
“Has the warrior been hard to manage without the use of tattoos?” the Doyen Fain asked.
“We have come to an understanding,” Ghehena said vaguely.
Fury walked into the room, “well, well, what have we here?” he asked and began to circle Fain.
“You managed to heal your tongue again have you, I have no qualms cutting it out if you don’t watch it,” Ghehena threatened.
“Tsk, tsk,” Fury said, “cut off whatever you like, I will not bow to you, Myrkalfar.”
Fain and the grandmaster looked stunned by the display.
“Have you brought me something to play with,” Fury said inspecting Fain. “She is very pretty, although she is probably a few hundred years old. How old are you sweety?”
Fain did not know how to answer. She had never been called sweety, she had never been addressed by a male in this way.
“Do not speak to the Doyen slave,” the grandmaster growled.
Fury ignored him. “It does not matter, you look pretty enough, shall we go to my chambers or would you like me to service you here in front of everyone?”
“Ah, service?” Fain asked.
“I mean fuck,” Fury said.
“Fury!” Ghehena said sternly.
“What? That’s not why they are here?” he asked.
“You know very well why they are here, you just want to delay and make them uncomfortable,” Ghehena said, “do we fight or will you lie down and allow the grandmaster to work on you?”
“I will lie down if she gives me a kiss,” Fury replied.
“No, that’s not happening,” Ghehena stated.
“Let her decide,” Fury said and grabbed Fain, pulled her close. She had white eyes similar to those of the Royalty, where all the other Myrkalfar had variations of red. Some lighter, some darker. For a Myrkalfar Fain was buxom, her breasts pushed up into two perky mounds. Her hair was pure white as will most Myrkalfar and her skin was a light blue, not a deep purple or dark blue like some. Her lips were red, but she had coloured them. Her face was quite beautiful, full round lips, elegant nose and her eyes were piercing, her intellect was renown, and it shone through the windows to her soul.
Fury would have to bend down, his six feet three to her five and a half feet, but instead, he lifted her off the ground. Her face to his.
“So how about it?” he asked.
She leaned in slightly to kiss his cheek. He did not say where she had to kiss him.
Fury would have none of that, he turned his head to meet her’s grabbing her by the hair at the back of it. He kissed her deeply and pushed his tongue forcibly into her mouth. She squealed, the sound dying in his mouth, while trying to pull her head back, her feet dangling and kicking.
“Fury!” Ghehena roared, he did not want to take physical action lest he injure the Doyen.
It was the most opportune time for Scydhel to walk in, to both be embarrassed by her lack of control and to embarrass Ghehena at his lack of ability to control the slave. Ghehena was beside himself with fear, embarrassment, recrimination, guilt and so many emotions that he should not have to deal with.
If this were a week ago, Scydhel would have been aghast and the consequences dire for all involved. She must have adapted, or at least schooled her composure to a new level of mastery. She merely sat in the chair provided for her and waited patiently as if nothing amiss were happening.
Ghehena had to respect her, it was the wisest and most Royal action she could take.
Fury finally released his victim, and while Ghehena was explaining all the parts he would cut off after their guests left, he was ignored by the slave.
“So how was that? Will you give the Royal Daughter a discount? I think you should, since you seemed to enjoy it so much,” Fury spoke drivel to the Doyen.
Fain recovered herself, “I think the sooner these tattoos are in place the better,” she said weakly.
“Oh, very well,” Fury said. He lay back on the couch and put his arms behind his head. Flexing his pecks while the grandmaster inspected the tattoos.
“Stop moving cretin, do not think I have forgotten what you just did,” the grandmaster warned.
Ghehena pondered the small changes in Fury since his arrival. The first day he seemed angry and lashed out at anyone and everyone. Now, he seemed to be playing games and laughing at everyone instead. Ghehena suspected Scydhel still maintained the link with Fury and was trying to influence him through it.
Allowing the slave to meditate was also having an effect. However, Ghehena could not determine if he preferred the angry lashing out or the teasing game player. Either way, the slave had zero respect for anyone. They were under strict orders to keep him away from the Queen, Scydhel even had a couple of rogues, running interference, ensuring there were never in the same part of the palace. Fortunately, the Queen never came down to the Ludus, where this operation and nearly all activities that concerned Fury took place.
Ghehena was relieved the tattoos would give him much more control over the slave and the gladiator trainer would be able to assist in managing him as well. It would at least give him a break, he has had to sleep, eat, train and shit by the slave's side since he arrived.
Taking his eyes off Fury for a moment, which was never wise, he noticed Doyen Fain talking with Scydhel. While their stations were separated by a mountain, the two women were similar in talent and qi mastery. If the rumours were true, this Fain, was a genius. A genius at what, Ghehena did not know, she certainly was not a warrior, she never competed in the Val’Tien. But she was the head of an esteemed coterie, one with a few grandmasters, which was impressive in itself.
While he would never condone the disrespectful actions of the slave, he could see why Fury thought she was pretty. Not only did she have a beautiful face and body, but she also emanated confidence, capability and dominance. They were extremely attractive traits amongst females. It would take such a woman to dominate him, they were not easy to find.
After an age of planning, gathering signatures the sealer had begun altering the tattoos.
Scydhel stood about to leave when the sealer yelled, “what the hell is going on!”