Kobb was trying to defuse the threat posed by the other Coastal People milling around the area. He needn’t have bothered. Tzadok was perfectly willing to kill their asses too. They had long been an irritation and being able to finally cross them off his internal list of “Things Which are Getting on My Last Goddamn Nerve” would be a welcomed achievement.
The idea of orchestrating a fucking bloodbath was looking less and less like a problem and more and more like an entirely rational way to finish up his morning.
Hawser continued glaring at Tzadok, his teeth on edge.
He was a tough man. Sadistic. Cruel. And capable.
But he couldn’t slay Tzadok in a straight-out fight. Hawser was doomed to forever be the second-toughest person in this land. And they both knew it.
Every single inch of the man’s face contorted in rage, burning with a hate hot as the molten heart of hell itself. Tzadok readied himself for an attack. It would go against every rule of The Wasteland to fight The Lord of Salt without a declared Challenge, but Hawser was going to make his move anyway.
Bastard. No one followed rules anymore. There was nothing worse than a man without honor.
Tzadok started to hope Hawser did attack. Watching that man die a shameful death would be such a genuine pleasure, particularly since Tzadok would be the one justifiably delivering it.
Volo looked desperate to smooth things over before the ancient alliance between the Coastal People and the Saltmen was destroyed, and The Wasteland fell into civil war. He cleared his throat. “I-I-I see no reason to argue, my esteemed brothers, after all we have two women and Hawser can simply…”
Tzadok recognized what was about to happen before Volo even finished the thought. He silently swore to himself, trying to think of some way to stop it. In saving the Green One, he’d inadvertently doomed the other woman. No one should suffer at the hands of that freak, not even Tzadok’s enemies.
His uncle apparently came to the same sudden realization and immediately cut Volo off. “I’m afraid that Hawser can’t have the other woman either.” Kobb gestured to the young dark-haired Brightlighter chained up beside The Green One. “I’ve already Claimed her.” Kobb tapped his chest. “She’s mine. Her supple little body belongs to me and me alone. Every inch, every curve.” He shrugged, as if helpless to change destiny. “Sorry.”
That took even Tzadok by surprise. His uncle was… well… not looking for a woman. At all. Or wasn’t as far as Tzadok had ever seen, anyway. Kobb had scarcely showed an interest in any of the countless women Tzadok had pushed into his path over the years, and even less in the men. His uncle had always seemed perfectly happy being by himself in what he claimed was his “old age,” enjoying his quiet solitude. If you so much as wanted to talk to Kobb these days, you had best be prepared to discuss fucking flowers, because the man seemed interested in little else.
Again, those goddamned flowers were at the top of Tzadok’s internal Shit-List. First Hawser, then the ugly-ass dying flowers which Tzadok was forced to endure looking at every fucking day. Then “Stupid People,” which rounded out the top three on Tzadok’s list at the moment.
Kobb must have either really hated Hawser or else he really didn’t want to see the young girl brutalized by the man. His uncle had always been squeamish about certain things though. Tzadok didn’t understand that. To Tzadok, the world simply was the way it was.
Chox created the maze, it was your responsibility to get through it, not tear down the walls for others lagging behind.
You didn’t live in The Wasteland. You survived it.
The captive dark-haired girl didn’t understand any of it, continuing to stare at her feet while she absently spun an iron ring around and around on her finger, in what was probably a nervous habit. She wore several pieces of armor though, signifying her as a warrior. One of the horsewomen.
She was also… twenty-five years his uncle’s junior. Easily. Younger than Tzadok. She couldn’t have possibly seen more than twenty summers yet, if that.
Such a thing was not allowed, particularly since Kobb had taken no real part in the actual battle. The only thing he’d captured in this engagement were a handful of plant seeds.
Plus, this conflict had taken place on Coastal People lands. Tzadok was in charge of the battle only because he was Lord of Salt of the entire Wasteland, but the Coastal People should have had first choice of the spoils. To make matters worse, she was a warrior! Which made her even more desirable!
By all rights, the woman could not be his uncle’s.
Hawser came to the same conclusion. “You can’t Claim!” He shrieked at Kobb in complete fury, suddenly distracted from his imminent fistfight with Tzadok over The Green One. “You’re too old!”
“Hawser, Grandson of my Mother’s Brother,” Kobb stepped closer, “I assure you, son,” he smiled at the man, “the well might not be overflowing, but it hasn’t run dry yet.”
“She’s young enough to be your daughter!” Hawser shouted at him, sounding disgusted and like he was trying to make a crazy person see reason.
“No, she’s not. Don’t exaggerate.” Kobb told him calmly. “She’s too young to be my daughter.” He burst out in laughter at his own joke, which was either meant to be good-natured self-deprecation or taunting superiority, depending on which view of his uncle you took.
Kobb was nice to everyone. Fair, generous, and wise. A warrior in the truest sense of the word. He always trusted in himself, his honor, and Chox. A champion of every underdog and lost cause, he protected his home and his people. But sometimes Tzadok thought he could see beneath the surface of the man. See something under the pleased and peaceful mask the man wore which… well… wasn’t as endlessly nice as Kobb first appeared.
Hawser seemed to interpret the laughter as a deliberate insult, which to be fair, was probably accurate. Generally speaking, it was never wise to laugh at a Wastelandi warrior. Even if you were one yourself. It would end in blood.
“No.” Hawser spat out, his face darkening like the sky before a coming storm. “That is unacceptable and in violation of every rule on Choosing there is!”
“Oh, it is not!” Tzadok shouted at the man, even though it certainly was. “You are speaking out of your ass right now! Stop mewling like a weakling about the Dark-Hair and step away from my Green Prize!”
“I Claimed the green wench,” Hawser continued, “and now The Lord of Salt has become envious and is trying to steal from me. That issue is not yet settled and I will have my property returned.” He pointed at the second woman, still glaring at Kobb. “But that little cock-ornament should be mine no matter what, simply to lessen the sting of the unjust attempted theft of the green bitch! I will give her to my people to enjoy and then I will sell whatever is left of her body for riches unimagined!” His voice went up an octave. “She killed six of my warriors!”
“Oh, even better. I like the feisty ones, don’t worry.” Kobb assured him. “A strong woman on the battlefield is a strong woman in my bed. There is nothing which makes a man harder than a battle-tested killer spreading her legs for him.”
Hawser continued yelling right over him. “The Coastal People have earned the pleasure they will take from her! I have earned it! BOTH wenches are mine!”
“You earn nothing you don’t fight for!” Tzadok shot back, despite the obvious fact that was exactly what Kobb was doing at the moment. “And if the Dark-Hair slayed six of your men, that’s their dishonor, not a justification to steal from us!”
Hawser threw his arms wide in exasperated fury and pointed at the shapely young dark-haired girl. “Why should an old man get such a prize, Kobb, The Thirty-Two Hundred? When he’s done nothing to distinguish himself in this battle on my clan’s lands?” He pointed at the carved wooden effigy of Chox dangling from Kobb’s belt. “And when he doesn’t even carry a fucking weapon, as any real man would, just some silly statue?!?”
Kobb looked down at the relic and smiled serenely, overcome with his own faith. “Chox is the only weap
on I need. His grace sees me through all battles and opens my enemies’ hearts to the truth.”
Tzadok rolled his eyes. He’d complained about that very thing for years. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still be pissed off that Hawser had pointed it out as well.
Hawser continued as if he hadn’t even spoken. “And who can no longer do anything in bed with the woman anyway!?!”
“Oh, I am sure I can think of something to do with her, do not worry.” Kobb assured him confidently, gesturing to the bound young woman like she was a work of art. “She is a girl sparkling in sexual possibility.”
“No.” Hawser shook his head again in righteous fury. “That will not be! It is unfair! Son of my Grandfather’s Sister, you are dead wrong in this! I deserve both women! BY LAW! And you both fucking know it!”
Tzadok knew it. Absolutely. No question. That was how things worked in The Wasteland and always had.
But it wasn’t going to happen.
Law, like all things in this land, was governed by what you could do to back it up. At the moment, Tzadok was willing to kill to break the law. And if he could kill the person objecting to his plan, that meant it wasn’t the law anymore. Tzadok would be in the right, just so long as he was capable of slaying those who said he was wrong.
The strong took and the weak died. As Chox intended.
And Tzadok was the strongest man around.
Kobb watched Hawser silently for a beat, a look of complete empathy and understanding on his face, as if he felt Hawser’s pain. “Chox, the Culler of Men, makes some spirits worms and some spirits falcons. Is that not also unfair? Does He not grant greater gifts to one than the other? Yet it too is part of His sacred will.” His uncle took on a profound tone, like he were giving a particularly insightful sermon. “Who are we to question Him? We can but obey as He pulls the strings of fate and makes us dance.” Kobb looked over at the frighteningly young foreign girl and then back at Hawser. He nodded, either in comforting assurance or mocking contempt. “And this perfect girl is my fate, Grandson of my Mother’s Brother. I have felt it. The pull of holy destiny.” He tapped his chest meaningfully, sounding deeply moved by his own entirely feigned emotions. “The Keeper of My Heart. I have found her at last.” He met the man’s eyes, in challenge or sincerity. He took on a slightly hurt tone. “Can’t you just be happy for us?”
Tzadok’s mouth fell open in shock.
Kobb had just upped the ante quite dramatically. Claiming the young girl as a prize was open to debate. Hawser could succeed on that point and gain possession of her if he took the matter to the heads of the clans, rightly arguing that Kobb Claiming her as a prize went against the rules. Which it absolutely did. Even Tzadok could see it. But his uncle was too crafty for that and had secured his weak position by going a step further: he’d claimed her not just as a prize, but as Keeper of His Heart.
The most holy of holy things a man could possibly find in this world.
He was claiming that he’d instantly seen that this random foreign girl was his and no one else’s. Given to him by the gods, destiny, and biology. A lost piece of himself, returned to him once again, and by decree of ancient Wasteland law and the words of Chox himself, the only woman his uncle could ever touch again.
His. Heart.
He belonged to her, she to him.
They. Were. One.
Which meant the judgement of the clans was utterly off the table now. They could no longer give the girl to Hawser, even if they wanted to. That would be utter sacrilege on a scale never seen before. And if Hawser tried to simply take the girl or attempted to harm her in any way, he’d have to kill Kobb and all of the Saltmen first.
It was an unbreakable rule: you try to take a Keeper of Heart away from their mate, they were honor bound to kill you. And they’d be right to do it.
You didn’t fuck around with someone’s Keeper of Heart, no matter who they were. Not unless you wanted to die.
His uncle had just ensured that his Claim to the girl was now irrevocably intertwined with the central binding force of society itself. If someone wanted to undo his Claim to the dark-haired girl, they'd have to pull down the entire Wasteland with it.
It was… a masterful strategy.
Drastic and truly frightening in its consequences, but masterful.
His uncle was not a man who lost. Ever.
Tzadok had not been expecting this though. At all. His uncle was obviously lying and just attempting to keep the girl from falling into degradation and pain. But since no one in the history of The Wasteland had ever claimed a Keeper of Heart who wasn’t actually theirs, there was no precedent for this.
The two men continued eyeing each other for a long moment, a Challenge obviously imminent.
Tzadok wasn’t entirely sure how this was going to play out and that uncertainty scared him.
His uncle was a strong man despite his wise, easy-going, and spiritual demeanor. He had been places Tzadok would never see. Knew more about the world and the people in it than anyone Tzadok had ever met. He wasn’t someone who could be pushed around. Ever.
On the other hand, Hawser was a sadistic idiot. You could stab him in the head all day and never once hit his tiny brain. And he had no qualms about killing someone who was empirically his superior in every possible way.
But Kobb was also older than Hawser. He’d lost a step or two over the years.
Tzadok wasn’t willing to risk him.
“You touch my uncle or the Keeper of His Heart, and by tomorrow morning, the Coastal People will exist only in memory and song.” Tzadok warned Hawser flatly, stepping between the men. Technically, not even The Lord of Salt could threaten such a thing, but Tzadok didn’t care. If Hawser had a problem with it, let him Challenge Tzadok like a real man. “I am The Wasteland Butcher. Lord of Salt. Slaughterer of Slaughterers.” He loomed over the other man. “And I am done with talking.”
And now there was precedent. The Lord of Salt would back all claims of Keeper of Heart, no matter how obviously counterfeit they were. Which meant that further debate on the issue would have to result in a Challenge under Right of the Meanest, to install someone else as Lord of Salt.
Tzadok had drawn a line in the sand: shut up about the women or fight to the death.
Hawser was sputtering in rage now, his face flushed in impotent fury. Then he backed down, just like Tzadok knew he would. The man was an idiot, but he wasn’t suicidal. Unfortunately. “You’ll pay for this outrage.” He threatened. “You can’t treat me like this! The Saltmen can’t keep treating the Coastal People this way!” He pointed at the woman. “That green slut is mine, I Claimed her first! I will give her body to The Primacy, to appease my god! And I deserve the dark-haired warrior woman as an apology for the outrageous behavior of The Lord of Salt!” His face contorted in a grimace of fury, pointing to The Green One again. “I own that green pussy and will yet see it spread open before me, offering its master welcome! And there is nothing that an oath-breaking Lord of Salt and an impotent old man who makes false declarations of Keeper of Heart can do about it!”
Tzadok was going to kill him.
Right now.
The realization hit him all of a sudden, taking him by surprise even though he’d been planning it since he’d seen the man touch The Green One.
He was literally going to slay the Coastal People’s golden boy right here, in front of everyone. Without a Challenge or warning. He was just going to kill him dead.
Huh.
“Chox gives us burdens to test our strength.” Kobb smiled calmly, like he didn’t even understand that the man was angry. He nodded, sounding impressed and certain. ”Your noble suffering will surely win His favor this day.”
Tzadok thought that was juuuust on the verge of blatantly mocking sarcasm, but given the man’s tendency towards peacemaking and the spiritual, he wasn’t sure.
“I’m willing to ‘pay for this outrage’ right now.” Tzadok spread his arms out, offering Hawser another opportunity to finally
grow a penis and fight. “Challenge me as The Meanest and we’ll settle it as Chox intended. All or nothing.” He stepped towards him, trying to force a confrontation. “Come on. Do it. Challenge. You know you want to try, you whiny little shit. Say the words and be a man for once.”
Hawser looked like he was about to agree… but didn’t take the bait, sadly. Instead he stalked away, muttering. A moment later, he mounted one of the captured horses and rode away with his men, screaming curses and promises of vengeance.
Overly dramatic people. Yep. They were on Tzadok’s list of irritants as well.
Assholes.
Xiphos made a low whistling sound of amazement as he watched the man go, then turned back to Tzadok. “You should have killed him. Challenged him yourself over something. Anything.” He advised. “Now you’ve made a blood enemy.”
“I’m terrified.” Tzadok deadpanned. “It’s like learning a squirrel has vowed vengeance against you.”
“Then let us hope that we are not nuts, Nephew.” Kobb intoned, sounding apprehensive about the situation.
Puns. They were also on the list of things that constantly made Tzadok want to punch the world in the dick. Near the top of his list, in fact.
Kobb rounded on Xiphos. “And just where were you, Grandchild of my Mother’s Sister?” He spread his arms wide, questioningly. “Was there something more pressing?” He pointed to the dark-haired foreign prisoner which he was now saddled with forever. “Is that why I had to Claim some little girl in order to save her?”
Xiphos looked at the soldier woman for a moment, then back at Kobb. “She is not the Keeper of My Heart.” He told him earnestly. “I Claim no one who is not mine.”
Kobb let out a long, tired sigh. His uncle didn’t really get frustrated like a normal person would, he was too calm for that. Too accustomed to the world and the idiots which inhabited it. “I am pleased to hear that you are following the words of Chox so faithfully, Xiphos.” He patted him on the back, like the man was a particularly loyal but stupid dog. “I pray that your devotion does not end in our gruesome deaths however.”
Captive of a Fairytale Barbarian Page 5
