Captive of a Fairytale Barbarian

by Elizabeth Gannon

  The green woman nodded, then turned to her master. “’Sex’ informs you that his god’s genitals are bigger than your god’s genitals.” She informed him calmly, then made a face. “Wrong language. Sorry.” She repeated the abbreviated version of the Priest’s words, then paused again. “Wait… Coastal People?” The green woman suddenly took on a thoughtful face. “Hold on…” She looked back at her master. “This is one of the people I’m not supposed to be around because they’re evil, right?” She pointed at her feet. “Is this far enough away from him? Or do I need to be further?”

  The Lord of Salt frowned at her, since she was speaking in the wrong language again. He spread his arms wide questioningly.

  She made a face again, recognizing the mistake. She quickly repeated the question in his language and The Lord of Salt gave his reply.

  She nodded in understanding.

  Then took another step away from Aix.

  She cleared her throat. “My master bids you welcome, Aix the Hugger and Sex. Friends are always welcome in his camp.” She smiled pleasantly like she hadn’t just calmly told Aix how much Tzadok hated him. Not that it was really news to Aix, just that the disrespect was usually less blatant. “He knows not of what disagreement you speak, but he is sure it is some kind of misunderstanding.”

  Aix’s eyes narrowed. “That’s shit!” He spat out. “The boy knows exactly of what I speak!” He pointed at her. “It has to do with the fact that your green little ass is in The Wasteland Butcher’s bed right now, and not Hawser’s!” Aix made a slashing motion with his hands. “That will not stand! The rules are clear!” He counted off his clan’s points on his fingers. “We must have the green woman and the dark-haired foreign woman returned to us immediately. That is the only way to make this crime right!”

  The green slave nodded in understanding and communicated that to her master, complete with an impression of the arm motion Aix had used.

  Tzadok’s eyes narrowed dangerously at the words. His reply was as furious as the unforgiving sun.

  The green woman nodded. “My master, Tzadok, bringer of death and woe, tells you that Tandrea the Green, of the Brightlighter clan…” She turned to him. “Aw, that’s nice that I have an official…” She stopped again recognizing that she forgot to switch languages, and instead just gave Tzadok a little curtsy, in gratitude. Then she promptly returned her attention to Aix like she’d never stopped talking. “…belongs to him. Her ‘green little ass,’ as you call it, is his property. To do with as he pleases, in whatever way brings him the most pleasure. Whenever he wants. However hard he wants. As many times as he wants. Until his limitless and everlasting lust is sated inside her warm and supple body. And no man may take what belongs to The Lord of Salt.” She paused. “Emphasis his.” She added as an editorial notation. She nodded. “If you have been informed that Hawser of the Coastal People had a valid Claim on either woman, then you were… misinformed.” She made a face, obviously unhappier over the fact she’d just used a variant of “informed” twice in the same sentence, than she was about the prospect of being raped repeatedly by the warlord. “No, that’s wrong. It’s not… it’s not ‘lied to’ though…” She thought aloud, still trying to correct the sentence which established and reinforced her slave status, so that it sounded smoother when spoken. “It’s sort of like… ‘You’ve been talking to someone stupid.’” She smiled, happier with that version of the sentence. “And as for the dark-haired warrior girl, if it were up to him, my master would be more than happy to give her to you, but he does not believe anyone in your clan deserves that kind of pain. Besides, Kobb, The Thirty-Two Hundred has claimed her as…” The girl frowned. “I… I don’t know what that word means.” She admitted. “I apologize. I’m guessing ‘slave,’ but it’s difficult to judge without additional information.”

  Aix recognized the word though. Literally, it translated as “Dove,” but it meant “Keeper of Heart.”

  He scowled.

  Hawser had glossed over that issue when he’d reported the matter to the other Coastal People, but Aix didn’t really care.

  Kobb shouldn’t have even been there to Claim the woman in the first place. The Saltmen had invited themselves to a battle which took place on Coastal People lands, then took both women! One was bad enough, but those thieving bastards had run off with all of them! Every single woman taken in battle!

  And yes, a claim of Keeper of Heart would technically trump Hawser’s rights, but the Claim was utterly ridiculous. There was no way that girl was Kobb’s woman. None. That man just wanted a young girl and recognized that Claiming her as his Keeper of Heart was his only way of getting her into his bed. Truth told, Kobb wasn’t any older than Aix, so he understood the impulse. But unlike The Thirty-Two Hundred, Aix believed in the law. It was what kept The Wasteland such a proud kingdom and ensured that the Saltmen couldn’t act without regard to their countrymen. But Kobb always seemed determined to turn the kingdom into a fucking theocracy! Always pushing his perverted religion on the rest of the Wastelandi. He had no respect for the law or honor. And Aix had certainly heard the stories of Kobb’s exploits among the Brightlighters. And all of the stories which didn’t get told. No, that man was a complete lunatic.

  This was yet another game the Saltmen were playing to get their own way and take what the Coastal People had. They’d always been so envious of their betters.

  Fine.

  If the Saltmen wanted to fight without honor, then the Coastal People could as well.

  The Lord of Salt wasn’t all-powerful.

  Hundreds of other Lords of Salt had come and gone before this boy, and he couldn’t change the law.

  “I am aware of the alleged Keeper of Heart claim.” Aix rolled his eyes contemptuously. “I am not accusing Kobb, The Thirty-Two Hundred of dishonor, but…” He trailed off meaningfully. “The Coastal People believe that the most sacred laws of our people should not be so easily subverted by lecherous old men for their own perverted and selfish reasons.” He pointed at her. “But whether or not the dark-haired Brightlighter horsewoman is The Thirty-Two Hundred’s Keeper of Heart, the green woman isn’t. She is Claimed by you as a mere prize. And all prizes taken in battle on Coastal People lands are given to Coastal People for Choosing first. That is the way it has always been. That is the rule. The LAW. As a warrior of the Coastal People, Hawser was entitled to the green woman before anyone else, Lord of Salt included.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “And since he had the holy right to Choose her first, you will also be happy to learn that he was able to ascertain in that short time that she is his Keeper of Heart.” Aix smiled in sinister glee, loving the fact he got to use the Saltmen’s own duplicity against them. If one clan could deceitfully claim Keeper of Heart, then two could. “As such, Hawser is understandably desperate to be reunited with his one-and-only and to take possession of the soft green body promised to him by the gods.” He held out his hand. “Turn her over. Now.”

  The green woman nodded and casually communicated the statement to Tzadok, apparently entirely unconcerned or insulted by its contents.

  She was a very, very strange creature. That was what happened when one allowed weakness into their lives. It tainted the mind.

  The Lord of Salt’s temper exploded and he started shouting his reply at the girl.

  The green woman calmly stood her ground, despite the man’s volume and intensity, then nodded at him and turned to Aix. “My master, Lord of Salt, Sorrow of Sorrows, says that you are… umm… mistaken… in the most extreme terms. I don’t think there’s really a word in your language to stress how extreme those terms are. Suffice to say: ‘a lot.’ Tandrea the Green is already Claimed by him. She will be remaining with him, even if Hawser wants to lie about her being…” She made a face. “There’s that word again.” She let out a frustrated sigh with herself. “’Slave,’ I guess.”

  Aix’s mouth dropped open in indignation, not expecting the boy to continue with the lie. No one could stand against a Keeper of Hear
t Claim! It was literally the worst thing a man could do! But the boy wasn’t backing down.

  Aix was genuinely surprised by the dishonor Tzadok was displaying, which was saying quite a bit, since he always thought the boy was an absolute pile of dog-shit. “The holy tradition of Keeper of Heart is a gift from the gods!” Aix screamed at him. “It is NOT a tool for you and your sinister uncle to use to steal from us! It is not to be embraced or ignored as the Saltmen see fit!”

  The woman translated that for Tzadok.

  The man shrugged mockingly, as if to say “So what? And?”

  “The Primacy wantsss the girl, Enveloper.” Seax whispered to him. “Ssshe’sss important to our plansss now. My Massster desssiresss thisss sssquealing Galland virgin, tied down and writhing in her own blood…”

  Aix resisted the urge to strike the priest. He didn’t need to be reminded of that fact, and he certainly didn’t need a reason to be upset other than his own clan’s honor. That was more than enough of a reason to split this Saltman pretender’s skull where he stood. Whatever dark brutalities and revolting profanities Hawser and The Primacy wanted to inflict upon her soft green flesh after that, was none of his business.

  Barbarians didn’t tell other barbarians how to behave or what to believe. Only so-called “civilized” men did that.

  Barbarians chose their own paths.

  Aix’s hands fisted at his sides. “This will mean war!” He warned Tzadok in fury. “If you withhold a Claimed Keeper of Heart from her master, that will end in blood!” He said again. “All of The Wasteland will stand against you, and you shall have nowhere to hide from the justice of our warriors!”

  The woman translated that to her master.

  Tzadok began yelling something and started forward, obviously about to do battle with Aix. Tzadok prowled towards him like a hungry panther for several steps, before bumping into the green woman. She turned around to look at her master in fear, obviously expecting him to attack her. The man stopped his advance. He made a face, took a deep breath, and then growled out something else.

  The green girl turned to Aix. “Umm…” She fiddled with her slave collar nervously, like it was a fashion accessory. “…that would translate roughly to something like,” she took on a louder and angrier tone, ‘Go fuck your own ass with a cactus, mediocre Coastal Bitch-Man!’” She pointed towards the horizon. “Convey your boney ass and your Sex unswervingly off his plateau, because he is unimpressed with your bleating and your so-called ‘warriors.’ He informs you that he has had more intimidating bowel movements.” She snorted contemptuously, imitating the man. “He finds you too irritating to even be amusing. While you threaten war, The Lord of Salt will be in bed, ruining his Slave for all other men forever, and then he will fall upon you like…” She paused, altering her tone as her master had done, apparently providing a verbatim transcript of his words. “No… wait. Pedals in a breeze. Pedals in a breeze. Don’t start a war with assholes. Don’t start a war with assholes in front of your prize, she scares. Don’t take the bait, that’s what the dog-lover wants. He’s looking for an excuse. Be nice, lie, then just kill them all quietly later and save yourself a lot of hassle. It’s not like anyone will miss them.” She nodded. “He then says that he would never lie about something as important and holy as… Slave… Translator… whatever that word is. Hawser is a man without honor and just signed his own goddamned… uhh… I guess that’s something like ‘death order’ or ‘murder contract,’ although I’ve never heard the term used before. If Hawser truly believes that Tandrea the Green is his slave/translator, let him come Challenge and try to take her. My master is always eager for a good laugh and he theorizes his slave/translator would enjoy watching him murder ‘that odoriferous little dog-excrement’ like the ‘mewling pile of hemorrhaging womanly flesh that Hawser is and always was’.”

  Aix squinted, trying to figure out the insults.

  The girl finished the thought, then turned back to look at her master. “Thank you!” She exclaimed, like she was impressed with how completely her captor understood her. “I would, yes. Confidentially, that would be very hot. I’m sexually excited just thinking about you killing him, which is weird and makes me uncomfortable to really consider, obviously, but true nonetheless. He’s an odious little rodent-man, and it’s somewhat embarrassing to admit, but I predict seeing you trounce him would jump me two points on the scale, at least. You are a very pretty man and I find your barely restrained violence oddly sensual, as I’ve said, particularly when it’s not directed at me.” She apparently didn’t realize she was still speaking the wrong language, but turned back to Aix, continuing with the man’s earlier words. “In any case, both his Claim and his uncle’s are valid and follow the will of Chox, Culler of Men. He is willing to parlay with you about ways to make your clan feel whole, however, provided there is an understanding that Tandrea the Green and Dark-Haired Lunatic are spoken for. If you continue with your lies about their ownership, he will reach down your throat, rip out your spine, and then use it to beat your family mercilessly.” She paused. “…But I think he means that in the best way possible.”

  Tzadok placed his hand down on top of the green woman’s head possessively, his eyes locked with Aix’s.

  The green girl looked up at his hand. “Oh… Well, that’s unexpected.” She imitated the action with her own hand, holding it out and placing it onto the head of an imaginary second green woman standing beside her. “Mine.” She translated the motion, then put her hand down. “That would be both haptic communication for my benefit and a symbolic gesture to you, meant to convey nonverbal information.” She told him conversationally. “But, in context, ‘mine’ is probably the closest spoken word to the meaning of the action.”

  It took every bit of Aix’s self-control not to attack the man right there.

  He had never been so insulted in his life. “My people will not stand for this dishonor, boy.” He warned darkly. “There will be a cost.”

  The green woman translated that for him and Tzadok straightened to his full height, looking down at him as if Aix were an insect he could step on. He growled out his reply.

  His slave nodded at her master, then turned to Aix. “My master, Tzadok, Lord of Salt, Slayer of Ygmaex the Mirror Wizard, Wielder of the Hammer of Jongvale, invites you to ‘take a good fucking look at him.’ He reminds you that you are trying to intimidate him right now. As a guest in his own village. In front of his (weird word). You are disrespecting him. He tells you ‘Do not fight… the..,’” she frowned, “…no, ‘You cannot….’ Darn. It would be something like: ‘You cannot fight the sky. Nor hide from the storm of blood which I will call down upon you, quenching this thirsty land with rivers of your excruciating pain, Coastal Toad.” She nodded, pleased with that translation. “By the ancient laws of Chox, Culler of Men, he would be well within his rights to strike you down where you stand, and send your shattered bones back to your people, packed in jars of excrement and urine, so that all could bear witness to your humiliating defeat and your eternal disgrace as a man.” She paused, her voice entirely calm. “I should warn you, in case my translation was ambiguous, that is most definitely an imminent and very real threat of violence towards you. One which his conjugation indicates he is immediately ready to carry out, should you say anything else which could be interpreted as disrespectful to your host and/or his translator.” She took on a thoughtful expression, which seemed to be genuine. “I would advise rethinking your current course of action.”

  Aix didn’t say anything in reply, knowing that the boy was absolutely capable of killing him. But that didn’t mean he had to like this situation. He glared at Tzadok in palpable hatred, gritting his teeth and seriously considering going for his weapons.

  “Now isss not the time to ssstrike.” Seax whispered to him, placing a hand on Aix’s arm to keep him from accepting battle. “But sssoon.” He promised. “Sssoon…”

  The Lord of Salt didn’t seem to care and simply stalked away, his point proven.
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  The green woman stayed where she was, smiling at Aix in lesbian-iacal cruelty. “If you get a chance, could you please notify the government of Galland that I’m here?” She sounded hopeful. “I would really appreciate it.”

  Tzadok shouted something, calling her away or demanding to know what she was doing still talking to him.

  She started to follow her master, then stopped and turned to give Aix another polite bow. “It was lovely meeting you, The Hugger! And you too Sex!”

  Aix continued glaring at their backs.

  So… The Lord of Salt had chosen war.

  Aix was fine with that option.

  ****

  “It’s probably nothing,” Tandy told Tzadok casually as she hurried to catch up with him, “but his body language suggests high levels of stress and murderous rage.” She firmed her lips into a thoughtful line. “As far as diplomacy goes, I fear this meeting may not have entirely accomplished all of your goals.”

  “I was perfectly nice!” Tzadok protested, then paused. “Wait… what did you tell him?”

  “Exactly what you told me to tell him.” She bobbed her head. “I translated every word.”

  Tzadok turned to watch as Aix’s form disappeared over the horizon beside his creepy lizard-man priest. “Then why is he so upset? I feel like I was entirely reasonable. In fact, I went out of my way to be nice in the name of peace. I would have gladly crushed the skull of any other man who spoke to me like that.” His temper flared up again just thinking about it. “You don’t raise your voice to a warrior here. That’s the same as pulling a weapon on him. The penalty for that is death.”