The warlord claims the throne

The naked princess could just guess how long she waited, kneeling beside the throne that once had been the rightful seat of her father, the emperor. Every now and then, barbarian warriors would hasten past the entrance which she could easily see from her location. Sometimes, they would also traverse the large throne chamber, carrying big bags filled with loot. Most of them would cast a curious glance or two at the naked girl. But obviously, every one of them knew that she had been claimed by mighty Lord Anfilas and none would dare to incur his wrath by getting too close to his new ****. That observation didn't do anything to comfort the young princess. Probably most of these barbarians had witnessed her submission up on the balcony when the barbarian warlord had taken her to the cheers of his warriors. She felt so dirty and soiled, yet still, she couldn't forget those words the warlord had whispered in her ear: 'I can sweeten each of your days.' Her juvenile body shivered with anticipation for whatever meaning these words held.

Eventually, her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the sound of several pairs of boots rapidely approach the throne chamber. She held her breath when five barbarians entered, Lord Anfilas, her captor, leading the way. He came straight for the throne seat, his strides strong with pride and purpose. He didn't cast so much as a glance at the frightened girl. Without hesitation he seated himself on the throne and made himself comfortable. Two of his companions took position to both sides of the throne, the other two stopped a few steps in front of the regent's seat. All of them looked so grim and determined, proud men who basked in the glory of their victory, yet already focussed on their next tasks.

"Darkeen," Lord Anfilas barked with that deep, sinister voice of his. "Have our scouts returned?"

One of the two men in front of him stepped ahead, a lanky yet athletic warrior with smoothe motions and a sharp face. "Bardok and Horridas have returned and made their reports. Looks like the remnants of the imperial army is trying to gather at the eastern banks of the river they call Sarnum."

"How many heads do they count?"

"On first estimation approximately 8000 feet and less than 300 horses. Their cavalry is just a shade of its once glory. We have decimated them in unheard of manner. Your plan worked perfectly, oh Toushan."

"Aye, we had to make sure of that. It will take them months to recover to any significant strength."

"Will we get a chance to gather more glory by wiping out that pitiful army of theirs?"

"I haven't made up my mind right now." Lord Anfilas paused to collect his thoughts. "As long as they stay on the eastern side of that river, they are no threat for us. I don't see much to gain by striking at them. Summer is almost over and we will have a long road back to the plains."

"So you're still determined not to stay here?"

"No. We're the warriors of the wind and don't cower like dwarfs behind stone walls. We're not meant to settle here. It would do us no good."

"Your wisdom is unmatched, oh Toushan."

"Aww, it's just common sense, Darkeen." Lord Anfilas made a wiping gesture with his broad hand. "Anyhow. Make sure our outriders keep a keen eye on those fleas. I don't want any bad surprises. We will detach a small contigent of our warriors to the western bank of that river. In case they dare ferrying that river. Just make sure our warriors know they are not to attack themselves."

"Your wishes will be followed. I'll send Garcan and his Diamand Owls. They have had their share of fighting and looting."

"Sound choice, Darkeen."

"Anything else, oh Toushan?"

The barbarian warlord shook his head. "None at the moment."

Darkeen nodded and turned on his heels. A moment later he rushed out of the entrance. Lord Anfilas didn't waste any time and adressed the remaining warrior in front of him.

"So, Vartyla. How're things going on here?"

The addressed warrior was a huge, broad chested man with scarred face and a reddened bandage on his left arm. His eyes were darting around all the time, drinking every detail of his surroundings. Despite his massive build, there was a lithe tightness in his limbs. This man was watchful and ready to strike at any sudden danger.

"The women are weeping and the men are cowering in their cages. Our warriors strike fear into the hearts of these weaklings. There is so much to conquer and loot. We will bath in glory upon our return to the heart of the plains."

"Any unwelcomed surprises?"

"None. Discipline is high. Our great victories have even further inspired our men. Even though not a single one will miss the chance to claim his due, they're being aware that the enemy may strike back at any time. There have been a very few quarrels over booty. But my Blood Stallions have taken the heads of all those who disobeyed your orders on this case."

"Good. Keep on the good work. Just make sure a blood price is paid for those heads taken. As for the other issues at hand: We must gather as much waggons and draught animals as possible. Send every available thrall to collect as much provisions to feed 50000 men for at least four weeks. I want us ready to march in two weeks if possible. Three a latest."

"It will happen as you command, oh Toushan." The big man clanged his fist on his studded leather armor in salute. "Anything else?"

"Not right now. I will send for you later when I'm done here."

Vartyla nodded and vanished as quickly as Darkeen before. The princess was now left with the barbarian warlord and his two guardians. From lowered eyes she observed as he slowly turned his head towards her.

"Now, my little bird. What shall we do with you?"