The Blood Queen
Eros the Wanderer
Darkness. That was all Eros could see after he had been sucker punched and bound like a prisoner. There was rope tied tightly around his wrists, so tight that he felt his fingers going numb. He felt the wagon underneath his body wobble on its wheels as it hit every bump on the ground. Eros no longer smelt the dusty rocks from the mountainside anymore. He could only smell the damp Earth and the moss growing on the trees around him. Eros was almost certain that he was taken captive by the Derevo tribe. What’s funny was that he had grown up hearing about the tales of the feud between the Derevo and Yu-Kameen people. He should have known better than to travel on the mountain side. Even if he was a wanderer. These people would probably kill him just for being associated with the mountains.
“I’m too young to die”, Eros thought to himself. He was only twenty-five. He had left home after his only living relative had died. He was seventeen when his mother passed away from being ill. Once he got a little older to work, his mother had fallen ill a lot and had become fragile. It was probably from all the years of supporting them. Her frail body just couldn’t take it anymore. When his mother had passed, Eros packed up all his belongings and proclaimed himself a wanderer. He didn’t want to be a part of a tribe or a village. He just wanted to travel and see the world. He wanted to know why his father had never returned for them. He too had left to see the world, but never returned. His mother often looked sad as she looked out at the stars. Eros wondered how a man could do that to someone he loved.
The wagon came to a halt and Eros was reminded that he might never find a love. He may never see the rest of the world either. He cursed silently at himself for being so stupid. Hands gripped his arms and pulled him off the wagon. His feet fell heavily to the ground and he planted them with each step. He silently counted his steps. How many more steps would he get? Ten more? Eros was forced to his knees.
“Koroleva, we found some Yukes on the mountain side,” a deep voice sounded. So they thought he was part of the Yu-Kameen. He knew it. This was it.
“Show me the faces of my enemies,” a strong but feminine voice replied. All of a sudden the bag was ripped from Eros’ head. The night was lit up by torches and in front of him was a thrown. It looked like it was made from vines and wood. Sitting upon it was a woman, she didn’t look any older than Eros. He was surprised that such a young person was queen of the Derevos. Her forehead was covered in red. Eros imagined it was the blood of her enemies, the way the red ran down her face like blood. He swallowed. Hard. This was it. She looked him in the eyes. Black coals of death stared into his soul. Yeah, she was definitely going to kill him. “You don’t look like a mountain warrior.”
“I’m not,” Eros replied instinctively and was met with a knock on his head.
“You were not asked to speak!” the guard next to him said. Noted.
Eros glanced around and saw a few more people next to him. They were definitely mountain warriors. They had the red clay war paint on their faces. It was a technique the Yu-Kameen tribe used to blend in with the red clay mountains. One of them was not like the other. “I should have stayed away from these feuding lands,” he thought to himself.
“Nevertheless, he will fight my warriors to the death just like the rest of them,” the queen said with hatred in her eyes. Her eyes were black with the flames of the torches reflecting in them. Eros was then manhandled up to his feet. “Aw man, I can’t fight that well,” he thought to himself. He felt his stomach sink. There’s no way he could compete with warriors. He couldn’t compete with these men and women who were taught to fight since birth. Maybe he could get lucky and then would fall on their own spears. Not likely, but Eros could hope.
Eros was thrown into what looked to be a prison yard. There were tall fences surrounding him, with guards on each post ready to kill whoever dared to climb the walls. There were other prisoners here. A few were covered in wounds, nearly bleeding out onto the mossy ground. His mother had told him stories. Prisoners were forced to battle the Derevo warriors until they bled to death. There was no winning. Eros knew he didn’t stand a chance. Even if he could fight, he couldn’t fight forever. Eros gripped the pendent at his neck. He prayed to the gods that somehow he would be spared. He wasn’t sure if they even listened though.
“I’m too young to die”, Eros thought to himself. He was only twenty-five. He had left home after his only living relative had died. He was seventeen when his mother passed away from being ill. Once he got a little older to work, his mother had fallen ill a lot and had become fragile. It was probably from all the years of supporting them. Her frail body just couldn’t take it anymore. When his mother had passed, Eros packed up all his belongings and proclaimed himself a wanderer. He didn’t want to be a part of a tribe or a village. He just wanted to travel and see the world. He wanted to know why his father had never returned for them. He too had left to see the world, but never returned. His mother often looked sad as she looked out at the stars. Eros wondered how a man could do that to someone he loved.
The wagon came to a halt and Eros was reminded that he might never find a love. He may never see the rest of the world either. He cursed silently at himself for being so stupid. Hands gripped his arms and pulled him off the wagon. His feet fell heavily to the ground and he planted them with each step. He silently counted his steps. How many more steps would he get? Ten more? Eros was forced to his knees.
“Koroleva, we found some Yukes on the mountain side,” a deep voice sounded. So they thought he was part of the Yu-Kameen. He knew it. This was it.
“Show me the faces of my enemies,” a strong but feminine voice replied. All of a sudden the bag was ripped from Eros’ head. The night was lit up by torches and in front of him was a thrown. It looked like it was made from vines and wood. Sitting upon it was a woman, she didn’t look any older than Eros. He was surprised that such a young person was queen of the Derevos. Her forehead was covered in red. Eros imagined it was the blood of her enemies, the way the red ran down her face like blood. He swallowed. Hard. This was it. She looked him in the eyes. Black coals of death stared into his soul. Yeah, she was definitely going to kill him. “You don’t look like a mountain warrior.”
“I’m not,” Eros replied instinctively and was met with a knock on his head.
“You were not asked to speak!” the guard next to him said. Noted.
Eros glanced around and saw a few more people next to him. They were definitely mountain warriors. They had the red clay war paint on their faces. It was a technique the Yu-Kameen tribe used to blend in with the red clay mountains. One of them was not like the other. “I should have stayed away from these feuding lands,” he thought to himself.
“Nevertheless, he will fight my warriors to the death just like the rest of them,” the queen said with hatred in her eyes. Her eyes were black with the flames of the torches reflecting in them. Eros was then manhandled up to his feet. “Aw man, I can’t fight that well,” he thought to himself. He felt his stomach sink. There’s no way he could compete with warriors. He couldn’t compete with these men and women who were taught to fight since birth. Maybe he could get lucky and then would fall on their own spears. Not likely, but Eros could hope.
Eros was thrown into what looked to be a prison yard. There were tall fences surrounding him, with guards on each post ready to kill whoever dared to climb the walls. There were other prisoners here. A few were covered in wounds, nearly bleeding out onto the mossy ground. His mother had told him stories. Prisoners were forced to battle the Derevo warriors until they bled to death. There was no winning. Eros knew he didn’t stand a chance. Even if he could fight, he couldn’t fight forever. Eros gripped the pendent at his neck. He prayed to the gods that somehow he would be spared. He wasn’t sure if they even listened though.