ONC 2022 Longlist / Top 25 The Historical Award 2022 & 2023 hosted by @HistoricalFiction / Featured by multiple profiles
In the tyrannical kingdom of Aratta, a young widowed mother returns alive from the den of a mysterious king where women go only...
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The place smells of mice and blood, a nauseating stench filling the cruel ambience with more of heart wrenching sobs.
Slash! Here falls another man, whipped till he meets his end. He fails the orders of his master and dies a gruesome death.
"Sleazy mice! Stop staring at what happens outside. Come, hop in!"
Several women are made to enter a carriage. Like hens crushed in a meshy cage we are squeezed to death here in this carriage. Breathing in the odour of sweat and cuts is difficult.
The journey seems never ending. I pray we reach our destination soon. I still don't know what is going to happen to me.
At last the carriage stops. The door opens and the plump lady in frilled skirt orders us to come out. We are made to stand in a line, then one by one taken inside a building. The walls are thick and high, and no one knows what happens on the other side.
I can hear faint screams and the flapping of sticks on soft bodies of delicate maidens. I grimace as a shout a bit louder comes to my ears.
"Now, you go."
It is my time to enter.
Inside, it is like a bathhouse. I watch the maidens who had come in earlier wash and bathe themselves. They have tear drenched faces and reddened bodies marked with wounds, some fresh and still bleeding.
"Don't look around, just keep your focus on the ground."
I do as asked. All of a sudden, without any warning, the women tear apart my clothes. I cover my body in shame and stand naked from head to toe.
"Don't act all ashamed. This is what happens here. We will check your body, so let us do our work freely."
"We are all women here, so do not act like a touch-me-not!"
I slowly free my limbs and raise up my hands. Tears stream down my eyes as I am treated like an animal. They scrub my body hard, giving me fresh cuts and pull my hair to see if I wear a wig. I scream and call out for help in pain, but no one pays any attention. It is as if this is normal and usual here in this part of the world.
"Done. Now quickly clean yourself."
I am pushed into a section of the bathhouse and given a bucket of water and a piece of cloth. I cannot cease sobbing like many of the women here, continuing to weave nightmares about what is going to happen next.
All of a sudden, the world spirals down into a haze. I am surrounded by shades of black and deep blue. When normalcy returns to existence, I find myself lined up for selling with many women. Iron chains are attached to my limbs, connecting me to a pillar nearby. Like several other women, I am put on display.
A middle aged man with a big bold beard and a thick golden stick in his hand comes up and looks at us. His eyes study us like a hawk after its prey. His ruby adorned fingers then point at me, and our eyes lock.
