Chapter 9 - The Tipotha's stronghold

On a throne made out of the proper collage of human bone and flesh was seated a fat king. He was a short man who had eaten to the fill of his spirit and was hence hard to conceal the fats from showing up. He was on his fifty and three years, the tenth year upon the throne he inherited by the weigh of strength and governance. Right before him and below his feet were also the placement of excess skulls since there was no place to add them to their ones on the throne. The skulls that made the throne and the king's footstool were from the once living and breathing and ordering heads of kings of conquered cities and their princes.

Asten Bolobas, the king of the northern realm, first of his name and first of his kind, he sat on the throne he had achieved by the fist of iron and belched. 

"Bring me more wine," he said in his husky voice and his cupbearer, a boy in his late teen walked towards the table on the left wing of the palace and returned with a mug in his hands. 

With the cup bent towards the position of the boy, the golden cup was filled again and Asten continued with his drink.

His throne rested on a podium, a rocky surface which had a huge hall built around it. Down the podium were four armoured guards who stood as the bar between the chefs and the throne. The chiefs over provinces were seated in a long set of chairs that were on both sides. Three of them were dressed in fine silk linen with golden embroidery around the neck and down the line while others were strutted in cloaks with silver embroidery. 

"Chief of the slave trade," Asten called out after a moment of silence had passed. 

One of the lords in a golden cloak stood to his feet. He was Asten's immediate brother and was named the master of slaves by his brother, the king. 

"Yes, your power," Buten said and stood to his feet, looking up to the throne.

"How are the slaves faring? Do they like it here?" Asten asked. 

"No one would like to be in slavery, your power. But they all are well. The men from the RebelHood would be tested soon, their women are still naked and given the option to fight for clothing. A quarter of the men of Talaza had been sentenced to the mine, another quarter was taken to the farm, another to the builders, and another to the Smith. Over the last three days, seventy-six had attempted escape and were paired in a team of four against the devil's sons – all were cut into shreds. I made others watch as they were killed. As for the women from Talaza, they would be listed for sale in the festival to come. Lastly, men from Pivia had finally succumbed to the threat, they are all listed in the training scheme while the women are being sold to brothels and lords who needed maidservants. I hope these suits your ears, your power," Buten concluded. 

Tortem clapped after Buten spoke. As an afterthought, the chiefs clapped as well while Asten looked fixedly at Buten and the stare went on till they clap stopped. 

Asten rose to his feet and walked towards the edge of the platform. The fleshy flaps of his stomach rested on each other as he stood and his unbuttoned shirt slid to opposite sides, revealing his torso. 

"I trust your instincts, brother," Asten began. 

"You too, brother," he said and turned to Tortem. 

Tortem was the captain of Tipotha's army. Also appointed by the king, the older brother. Asten had planned his sovereignty with the perfect intention to never let the power shift result in a tussle by sitting on it all. Asten would mark out a settlement to be attacked, Tortem would bring the slaves, and Buten would meet out the rules of slaves' survival.

"I'm impressed, brother. But news holds that the folks from the RebelHood won't be easily bent to any rule. I heard their men were trained to eat pain and drink hardships. I heard they can survive arduous tasks. I heard they don't serve another. How do you intend to deal with this side of them, brother?" King Asten spoke. 

"You heard right, your majesty. But there is one thing you didn't hear. The men of RebelHood have a weakness. Pussy!" Buten said sternly and looked into the faces of other seated chiefs.

"They get engaged in their early years with their women to bar breakouts amongst each other. The coupling ensures that they remain with their partner and can not have another. They may be beasts but still, they have a lead. We'll make the women believe their men hosted a rebellion and all were wiped. Also, we'll make the men believe their women have been given to brothels and to lords who picked out according to their tastes. I'll do this after the festival and this will certainly break them from any commitment to each other. Then, I'll display the women of Pivia before them, all naked. This will be done in the coming week. "Pledge your allegiance and you find a place to keep your cock" – this will be my first softening balm. It's been a month and all they had seen were chains. They will harden up immediately. I hope this works, your majesty," Buten said.

Asten was the first to clap this time and then the chiefs followed. 

"Sounds about right," Asten said and returned to his throne. 

"Then, the women? What would you do with them?" Asten asked. 

"They have been given the choice to pick up a weapon, step into the arena and create noise. One of them made it and has made a name already. Lixxini, daughter of Waxx, the dog of the RebelHood. She now has a cloth around her girth and she's already spoken of her interest to cheer the people during the festival. It may be her last, but she would give us a show. She's as brutal as her father. Others are given the same choice, but they are into each other and wanted to remain so. She is the only one who took the chance," Buten answered. 

"Lixxini, daughter of Waxx? Bring her to me tonight," Asten ordered. 

"Your majesty," Tortem called and stood to his feet. 

"You king over all, however, I don't think you can handle a woman of the RebelHood all alone. Your life is paramount and we can't risk it," Tortem countered. 

"Oh! I see. That's coming from a brother I taught how to wield the sword," Asten teased. 

"It's all about your safety, my king," Tortem said again.

"Well said, baby brother. I shall have it your way. I shall have four guards to hold her limbs. I shall please you on one condition, that is if you truly care about my well-being. I challenge you to a fight during the festival. For the first time, I'll step into the arena and I'll fight you. I shall prove to you that my fats haven't governed my skills. What do you say, brother?"

After a smile, "I accept. Just take cautionary measures against the RebelHood woman," Tortem said and laughed as he looked towards Buten who smirked back. 

"Then, this meeting is adjourned. See you'll next court meeting," Asten said.