At His Altar

Leela   "Eat, bitch."  I didn't see the face behind the voice, but a bowl of food was thumped unceremoniously onto the floor and the door slammed shut again. I stared at the bowl. What did it matter, whether I lived or died? Eli was gone. A month had passed since Zamee soldiers had attempted their siege on the Osha encampment. I had only arrived at the camp hours before. Fire had fallen from the sky and my heart soared as I realised they had come for me. Eli had come for me. Before I’d had time to think, King Baka had charged into my tent, dragging me out of it kicking and screaming. I had fought him as best as I could, but with the wolfsbane in my blood, I was unable to shift. He had struck me once in the stomach and the wind was knocked from me. I fell limp, coughing for air as he half carried, half dragged me towards his horse. It was then I heard the chants.  "He is dead! The King of Zamee is dead." Even the cheers from the Osha couldn't drown out the sound of my heart splitting in two. The sounds of my tortured wails hushed even the fiercest warrior who heard it. My husband, my love. Dead.   King Baka stood still for a moment, as a soldier ran to him, confirming the death of King Eli. My wails grew louder but he ignored me, throwing me onto his horse as though I were nothing more than a ragdoll. I was beyond tears as my entire world was swept from under me. Nothing seemed to matter as he tightly bound my hands in front of me, ragged sobs shaking my body. "It seems we'll have to take the queen to the castle," King Baka whispered in my ear, as he mounted the horse behind me. I didn't even have the will to turn my face away from his acrid breath. He spurred the horse on, galloping out of the encampment. First we rode through a forest. I stared ahead, unfeeling, as the trees whistled past. Then, we rode through a desolate land. There were weathered trees with no leaves. It seemed everything in this gods forsaken land had died a long time ago. The earth seemed dry, barren, despite the cold drizzle that seemed to be a permanent fixture. We rode through a village at full gallop. Some braver souls came out to see their king, cheering or throwing insults in my direction. I heard nothing. I cared for nothing. Others stood by their doors, watching, wide-eyed and frightened. Of me or their king, I didn’t know. I stared at the sterile land numbly. It seemed to reflect my insides. Hollow, bleak. Unable to ever be whole again. Hours later at the hovel that he referred to as his castle. It was in disrepair, rats scattering as we neared the rotting door.   Now, a month had passed in this cursed land. It had the biting cold of Varun, but the sun rose for only a few hours; sometimes it was so grey, it felt like it didn't rise at all. I looked again at the food by the door. I had no purpose, no reason to keep my strength up anymore. Whether I stayed here rotting in this hell or went to Zamee, what did it matter? There was a physical ache in my chest, and I clutched at it as though to hold my heart in place. A lump rose in my throat as I closed my eyes and thought of Eli. His smile, his onyx eyes darkening when we made love. I choked back a sob and shook my head. It wouldn’t do. Then I thought of Mama. How had she survived this long without Rikom? How she must have yearned for the sight of him, the smell of him, spent nights lying awake in the absence of his touch. If my heart could break twice, it would have broken again for her.   But as much as I told myself that nothing mattered anymore, I couldn't bring myself to give in. My children needed me. A week ago, I had heard the door unlock as I lay on my bed in the middle of the night. Prince Tuur had crept into my bedchambers and sidled behind me as I lay on my side. Bile rose in my throat now as I thought of his clubby hands pawing at my body. I had lain still as he grabbed at my breasts roughly, pressing his c**k into my back. Tears stung my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I only thought of how I would never again feel Eli's warm touch. A sob nearly escaped me as I thought of the last time he had pushed his body against mine. I held onto the sheets tightly, squeezing my eyes shut and preparing myself for the pain that was to come. "Pity, I'd heard wolves had more spirit in them. I was hoping to break yours." His breath was pungent as he whispered in my ear, but I didn’t respond, lying there as though dead. He pinched roughly at my ass and then his hand gripped my nightdress. He fumbled with it, trying to pull it upwards. It had been then that something did break – just not what he'd hoped. He would not have me. My training with Sakina had kicked in and I thrust my elbow back hard, hearing a loud crunch. That would be his nose. He roared angrily and I sprung from the bed, crouched and ready, just as I had been taught. Blood gushed from his nose. "YOU b***h," he roared, charging at me blindly. I crouched patiently, waiting until the wind from his swinging fists reached my face. At the last moment, I moved to the side, leaving my leg extended. The momentum carried him as he flew into my leg, crashing into the table and breaking it, along with everything on it. Glass shattered, scattering everywhere and I heard another loud roar. This time it came from the door to the chambers.    King Baka stood, his frame filling the entire doorway.  "You f*****g BASTARD," he roared, "I told you she was not to be touched." He marched across the room, gripping Prince Tuur by the scruff of the neck and dragging him out. I was pleased to see his entire face was covered in blood and he had glass sticking out of his arms. He glared at me as he passed, his eyes bright with fury. King Baka stopped before me, still holding his son by the scruff of his neck. "Did he put his seed in you?" There was no concern in his voice. I wasn't naive enough to think he cared remotely about my wellbeing. But he wanted me pristine. Whether it was for himself, or to sell me on to the highest bidding enemy of Zamee, there was no noble reason why he didn't want me raped.  "No. But he may have put it in the table," I replied, nonchalantly.  If Prince Tuur wanted to see spirit, I was only too happy to oblige. King Baka laughed at his son's expense, dragging him and throwing him out of the room before slamming the door behind them. I stood stoically until I heard the lock. Then, I had wept until I fell into a fitful sleep. Now, I walked to the bowl and picked it up. I sniffed the food carefully, picking up traces of wolfsbane. While this was in my bloodstream, I couldn't shift. Without being able to shift, I would freeze and die in the cold, harsh snow within hours. I had no weapons, no food, no horse to escape without shifting. Without food, I wouldn’t survive for long. I had no choice but to eat it. Guards stood at the door of my chambers day and night. I had thought about perhaps trying to seduce on of them, but each time I thought of it, I would feel sick to my stomach. There had to be another way. Though it was beginning to look more and more unlikely.   But each time I came close to giving in, I thought of my sweet children. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of Elmina’s dark hair, so like her father’s. Of Arkom and his dark red curls and brown eyes. They would know their Baba. I would make sure of it. I would tell them stories of his bravery, of his humour and his kindness. Our children would never forget where they came from. But first, I would leave this place or die trying.