Blade and blood

chapter2a

“I see a cloud opaque on your face. Should it concern me?” Mridhumara took a closer look at her husband’s face as he entered their bed-chamber.

Mridhumara was a beautiful woman. She had long, brown, silky hair and a fair complexion. She had blue eyes. She was a goddess of beauty. Her ancestors were said to be descended from the god of waters, Waghaira himself. Waghaira is usually known as Kripida in the north and also in the Nakha.

Mridhumara was the princess of Keshiya, a country neighboring Nakha. When Nakhashmere decided to attack Keshiya, the king of Keshiya was left with two choices; fight and see the country to doom or surrender and die. Keshiya was a small country but rich. Its king, Kakaya, was never going to surrender. He never wanted to fight against the mighty army of Nakha either. He had to find another way. Kakaya’s trusted ministers found a way to save the country and its king. A permanent bond with the Nakha. Mridhumara was only fourteen then, and his younger son was just six.

Instead of sending a messenger with the news, the king himself, along with his wife and children, three ministers, and twenty soldiers went to the kingdom of Nakha.

Nakhameromon was seventeen, an age he was ready to have a wife.

The king of Keshiya and his family were gladly welcomed. The king, Nakhashmere, instantly agreed to the ‘permanent bond’ upon seeing the young princess, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Nakhameromon never had another opinion, his heart started beating for her from the next moment. Keshiya swore allegiance to Nakha in almost all matters save unnecessary wars that would affect their resources. The terms were accepted, and the marriage was soon arranged.

Ever since Mridhumara knows even the slightest variations in her husband’s heartbeat, she understands the shade that fells on his face and the minute difference in his sound or movement. Mridhumara was a knowledgeable princess. Kakaya taught his daughter as much as he could about the art of ruling and warfare, though it wasn’t normally accepted for females to study the art of kingship.

In Nakha, she was able to continue her lessons with her husband.

She could see the gloomy face of the king upon his entry. Some pressing matters must have made him depressed. Nakhameromon never hesitated to take a second opinion of his beautiful, intelligent wife.

She was sitting on the royal bed with young Nakheera in her hands. The boy was just more than a year old. They were blessed with five children, Nakhakantan being the eldest. He was an eighteen-year-old man with features resembling his mother.

The king looked at his wife. He ambled slowly towards her with a gentle stare. He sat beside her on the bed. He caressed the boy and bent down to kiss his forehead. Then the king lifted his head to place a gentle kiss on his wife’s delicate lips. Their lips waited for a bit long to part.

The king let out an easy breath. “There was nothing of much concern, yet I felt a bit worried. It is just a matter regarding the Northern Territory.” He looked at the three candles burning on the wooden table beside the bed. They were half-burned, stood exactly at the same height. The flame of the candle in the center was burning straight, but the others were crooked with the slight breeze that was coming through the balcony.

“My rajana (king), that is news I could not receive lightly. You say there is nothing of concern, yet you are worried.” Mridhumara kept her hand on the king’s chest to measure his heart. She felt the arrhythmic pulse of the heart. She needs to know what causes him to worry. “My rajana, what gives you bother relating to the Northern Territory? Are you planning an invasion?”

It’s been so peaceful for her in the country. No wars were waged, no country sent troops to unsettle the calmness of the kingdom. Since her marriage, there were no attacks save some wild unsettling in the east and civil wars within the kingdom.

Ever since Nakhashmere lost three sons in the battle of three kings, he decided not to invade any neighboring kingdoms. It should have been called the battle of four kings if Keshiya also joined the cause against the Nakha.

Mridhumara feared the king would want to invade the northern lands. He must be longing for blood. The sound of a blade ripping flesh and breaking bones, the cry of agony, and the joy of victory was too far away for him. He emerged victorious nineteen years ago in the battle of three kings but lost three of his brothers.

“No, my rajathiya, I am not planning to invade the north. War is far away from my dreams, yet I fear the battle cry will emerge from the north and unsettle the territory.” Nakhameromon was still staring at the candle, wondering why the flame never flickered. He looked around to see the one hundred candles of different sizes and lengths burning all around the room. A young girl in white clothes added more candles to replace the extinguished ones. “A call for help has come, and I have decided to lend my support.”

Mridhumara wondered who would send a call for help. The northern kingdoms have enough soldiers in their army. Her first thought was about Tistara. As far she knows, Tistara has more than twenty thousand soldiers. They will need help if the mighty kingdom of Voreshius attacks them. Voreshius is the most powerful kingdom on the entire continent with around sixty thousand soldiers. Is Voreshius attacking the kingdom of Tistara? What is the bargain for such help? She had heard the old kings of Nakha wanted to rule all the regions below Meya. They were constantly waging war against their neighbors to see that dream true until Nakhashmere halted such an attempt and Nakhameromon never intended to occupy the lands since.

“Who needs such help? Aren’t the northern kingdoms powerful enough to defend themselves?” Mridhumara couldn’t resist asking. She looked back at the girl standing behind her. The young girl came in front and adjusted the queen’s top cloth to reveal one of her breasts. Mridhumara helped her youngest son to feed on her breast. The girl walked again to the rear and stood in silence.

Nakhameromon watched young Nakheera suck his mother’s n*****s with his eyes closed. He wasn’t sure whether to reveal the message to his wife.

The king raised his hand and gave a soft signal. The two girls who were standing behind the queen bowed and took leave. After they went out of the room, the king softly said, “The Zolopts have taken up arms and are marching south beyond Korostary. They are threatening the kingdoms of Magandry and Hroshala. A messenger from Magandry delivered a message requesting help.”

Mridhumara’s eyes widened. She had very little knowledge of the Zolopts which she had heard as stories in her childhood. She believed they were myths or imaginary creatures. “Zolopts? Do they even exist?” she asked, unbelievingly.

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