His brows went up and he leaned back. “Absurd?”
“Absolutely. I’ve never seen you in my life,” I replied.
He glared at me. Geoffrey shifted at his side. I tried to stop myself from hyperventilating.
Then his eyes moved to Lahn. “I tire of this. You know why we are here.”
The Xacme translated (unnecessarily) and Lahn grunted, “Meena.”
“Yes,” The Xacme called.
“Then I will lay down our terms. You will see in front of you on your plain that with me, I brought thirty thousand Middlelandian soldiers. I do know, of course, that your savages will cut through them with all due haste. I also know, before they do, they will ride into Korwahn and likely not be careful who their swords slash through… women, wives, future warriors.”
I sucked in breath again at his heinous threat but he continued.
“Not to mention the warriors of yours they will take in the process, on the eve of your riding on Maroo. This is, I would suspect, not what you would wish just prior to you leading your campaign.”
I would suspect it too.
He kept speaking. “In payment for you seizing my enchantress, and to stop us from riding on Korwahn, I will accept four trunks of Korwahk gold, four of your silver, four of your diamonds, the same of your rubies, emeralds and sapphires and…” he paused and looked up at Geoffrey then back at Lahn, “another trunk of gold as payment for what you did to one of my most trusted ambassadors.”
My eyes flew to Geoffrey who was staring at me with unconcealed hate. Then he leaned forward and opened his mouth wide. I leaned back instantly for even in the light of the torches and fire pits, I saw he had no tongue.
Oh God. Lahn had had him captured and his tongue cut out for speaking to me the day of the selection.
No wonder he was so thin and pale.
Oh God.
I tore my eyes away from Geoffrey and looked back at the man with the crown.
Lahn didn’t reply.
So the man did. “You delay which is unfortunate. You must know I can easily signal my troops to ride. I’m sure your men have been alerted and are preparing their defense. I will countenance no delays.”
Lahn spoke then, in Korwahk, with The Eunuch translating. “You are on Korwahk land, King Baldur, be careful how you speak. You do not rule here.”
So this was King Baldur. Wow.
He was a jerk.
His chest puffed out. “And I’ll remind you, you are not the only king in attendance.”
“I am the only one that matters,” Lahn replied in Korwahk after The Eunuch translated and upon hearing it, King Baldur instantly lost it and slammed a fleshy fist into the arm of his chair.
“The gall!” King Baldur snapped. “You do not respect the crown I wear; you torture my emissary and steal my enchantress. You have no honor. I know you’re primitives but you cannot expect to behave like this in affairs of state without reprisal.”
“Threats of intimidation, preposterous demands and righteous bluster may be how you conduct business in the Northlands but you are no longer in the Northlands,” Lahn replied (again in Korwahk).
King Baldur shifted angrily in his chair before he cried, “This is outrageous! The woman who sits beside you belongs to me!”
I tensed but Lahn leaned forward, forearm to knee, not aggressively, just casually and returned, “My golden queen does not know you, how can she belong to you?”
“She lies!” King Baldur shouted with a hand pointed in my direction and Ghost growled, pushing up on her front paws to sitting, her blue eyes not leaving the king.
“A caution, fat man,” Lahn said in a low voice and King Baldur’s face went red with fury when the words were translated, “do not insult my queen.” He opened his mouth to retort but Lahn kept speaking. “This man at your side is no emissary. He is a spy. In the Southlands, these activities are dealt with harshly. He has been among us for many years. He knows our ways. His actions were foolish and his punishment swift. If he has run crying to you like a girl then he should not have boarded the ship that would cross the Marhac Sea that would bring him to the dust and stone of Korwahk.”
Okay, cutting someone’s tongue out was harsh but Lahn was not wrong. You know the rules, you play the game, you lose, you pay the price.
Still. Yikes!
“Your actions are barbaric, including you seizing women and forcing them to be slaves to your cocks, one of these women being mine and she sits by your side. If you wish to keep her at your side, I will have restitution!” King Baldur yelled.
“Do you threaten to steal my queen?” Lahn asked.
“You do not pay then you must be prepared for what happens, all that will happen, when my soldiers ride,” King Baldur shot back, the armored men at his back straightened attentively and Lahn sat back.
What he didn’t do was speak.
This silence lasted a long time and was clearly more than King Baldur could endure for his eyes flashed to me.
“Circe, come to your king this instant!” he ordered. “You serve me.”
“I’m telling you, sir, I do not know you,” I replied, he jumped out of his seat and the instant he did, Ghost gained all four of hers and started growling.
“Do not lie, you stupid bitch!” he boomed. “Come to your king!”
“Sit,” Lahn ordered in English and King Baldur’s gaze snapped to him with both anger and obvious surprise at his use of Baldur’s tongue.
“Do not, you stinking, savage animal, dare to command me!” King Baldur clipped.
“You sit or I’ll force you to sit by cutting your legs off at the knees,” Lahn told him in English again and I tensed because I knew he could do this and would. He was not armed but I suspected he could be, if he wanted, in less than a second.
“The insolence!” King Baldur shouted. “You cannot attack a king during a state visit!”
“You are in the Southlands, fat man, I can do what I wish. Now sit on your fat ass or your nation will lose its king. Your son, who is weak and prefers to have his c**k stroked while he accepts his lover’s through his ass, will succeed your throne. Which means, since he is weak, his lover will rule your nation.”
King Baldur snapped his mouth shut, a telling sign that this was true. His eyes widening told the tale that he was surprised Lahn had this information.
“It is unfortunate,” Lahn went on, “as there are many men who prefer this, that your son is not the kind who is strong. But you know, fat man, that he isn’t and his lover is greedy, manipulative and foolish. If your son sits on your throne and allows his lover to pull his strings, your own people will revolt to reunite with their sisterland of Lunwyn or Fleuridia or even Hawkvale as well as Prince Noctorno will ride on Middleland to seek vengeance for your years of gluttonous follies and they will succeed. Middleland will cease to exist as they cut up pieces as their glory.”