Forced Into Tyranny

6: Tale of the Cursed

Rusthelm Town,
Dungeons of the Den. 

         Curses upon these illegitimate fools, Raven mentally drawled. He'd heard enough from Kriton. No more. "The King did not demand that." His statement seemed more like a reassurance than what it truly was: a fat lie.
        Kriton laughed in utmost sarcasm. "Whilst you sit here and contemplate what is impossible and not, I shall have myself fully ready to dine in the castle by next week."
       "Give me that."
        Raven snatched the parchment from Kriton's grasp, his grip tight as he unfurled it to reveal the bold script of King Hagnon's signature and the royal seal, which he studied intently with wide eyes.
       Warriors,
       You are grimly invited to a royal feast at court. Your drudgery and dedication to our entertainment have not gone unnoticed, and I demand to be honored by your presence. The feast will take place in the Great Hall on the first day of the new moon. Come dressed in your finest attire.

Sincerely,
King Hagnon.

        Look at it, so condescendingly and dismissively quilled down. Raven could bet that the king's quill hadn't touched that parchment until it was time to affix his signature. He had probably given it to his guards or even his idle left hand.
       That should not have been the problem when the thought of the invitation alone outweighed every other problem.
       After many years of fighting in the arena, they finally saw fit to acknowledge their achievements...with such an arrogantly worded letter, no less.
       Raven scoffed and tossed the letter to the sand on the dungeon floor. "And if we do not go?"
       "I would not tarry to discover the consequences, if I were you."
        Raven was likely angrier than a raging bull. Did Kriton see the last part of that letter, or was he simply too excited about dinning with the nobles to give a fuck?—he thought. Come dressed in your finest attire. They only had corinthians, and armors, and swords, and torn clothings. The king knew this all too well. Of course it was all part of his humiliation ploy.
        Raven pondered the mysteries of the castle and Thevalon itself, wondering what aura the Great Hall held. They knew nothing of the castle, of Thevalon as a whole, as they had been confined to strictly the corners of Navaría before the attack.
        For a decade, The Den had been their sanctuary, a place of refuge and safety. Emerging from its walls after so long was both a boon and a bane, fraught with peril and possibility.
        An escape could suffice, perhaps. However, its bane would be death on sight, or ones head deep inside a spike.
       "We will defy his command," Raven decidedly spoke and left a final note in his words.
        "He could have our heads for that!"
        "Let him, Kriton. Let the king order Syagros to have our skull adorned with gold to serve him breakfast, we shall not oblige to this."
        "Enough, Hektor!" The sands under their feet erupted dust into the air as Kriton rose to Raven's level after picking up the letter, though not reaching his height at all, since Raven was heavy and stood taller than anything that came close. Kriton held his friend's gaze with a scorching glare. "I fear your anger has clouded your judgment, and your words are unclear. If you do not wish to dine in the castle and receive the recognition you deserve, then men such as myself would be honored to do so. You must allow us to enjoy ourselves." Then he added, "For fortune favors the bold, and failure knocks on the door of cowards."
        "Do not count yourself lucky for having received a letter of invitation from the very man who has enslaved you."
        Silence stood between them for a while until their intense eyes stopped slashing through the very cloak of reality.
        "I shall count myself fortunate because a slave who dines in the presence of noblemen is far much better than one who feeds off his own crumbs here in these dungeons."
        Kriton walked out of the dungeon and made his way through the Den, entering each ward to gather the slaves. His voice resonated with conviction, his words echoing through the dark, damp halls. "We must gather in the training ground at once."
        In the Den, each dungeon held a little over ten slaves, and there were eight in total. Every ward contained the three ranks amongst them, along with one that contained women put in there for the warriors' pleasure. The only ward with fewer slaves was the Champion's, with only six. Their dungeon was the only one in the Den that wasn't facing another dungeon, slashed by the narrow passages.
        Kriton, along with the other four champions, walked through the dark, damp halls of the Den, passing by each dungeon where he could hear the moans and grumbles of the enslaved as they reacted to his words.
       Then he marched down to the training ground. He stood by the giant walls and waited for the crowd to thicken. Heavily built men who wore scanty and ripped clads pressed into the square until they were complete. Women in decent stolas at least, gathered themselves to their corner, planting eyes on the second in command, wondering where their leader was.
       "Where is Raven," a warrior from the crowd threw at Kriton, as they both would always stand together to address the rest.
         It was in that moment Kriton graced the crowd with prying eyes and noticed  Raven's whore, too, hadn't gathered in with them. "We shall carry on without him."
        A loud explosion of voices rang across the square for a moment before Kriton's words silenced them.
        "Brothers and sisters, hear me now," he said. "We may be slaves, but we are not without power. We are not without hope. We have each other, and we have our strength. We have fought in the arena, and we have proven ourselves. Now, we have been beckoned by our king, to dine with the nobles on the day of the new moon."
         As he spoke, the slaves gaped in awe, whispered amongst themselves and grumbled to one another. Their eyes shone with a newfound hope.
        "You lie," one yelled from the crowd. "Where is the evidence of this which you speak?"
        As Kriton lifted his hand, the letter appeared in the air, bearing the unmistakable seal of King Hagnon himself. With a flick of his wrist, Kriton tossed the letter at them. "Behold, the seal of our King," he said. Some gasped in awe, while others murmured in agreement when they hurried to the letter.
        "What has come over Thevalon that the king would invite us to court?" they wondered. All eyes were on Kriton, waiting for him to say something about this.
         Someone asked them all to halt for a moment and he fell out of the crowd. "Might be a trap to get us in a room and have us executed en masse."
        "Such way of speaking is what will get you executed!" Another voiced out, and a pandemonium broke loose.
         From the bowels of the dungeon, where Raven was violating a woman and kissing her savagely on the neck, he heard the piercing argument and shook his head in disgust.
       "Kriton will regret what he is doing," the woman's moan was embedded in her voice as she let out her worries.
        Raven pinched into her tender arm. "Pray that your soul does not regret the moment my wrathful hands touched you," he growled through gritted teeth. "Turn around, Hamila."
       Without a moment's hesitation, she turned her back to him, lowered the upper half of her body and lifted her dress. Raven's hand balled up a part of the fabric in his fist, pleasure and anger dripping from his grip on Hamila's waist. Pain and pleasure shot through her from the site of the sting. Her left hand reached out to a leather and chain bridle hanging on the wall, and she twisted her wrist around it to support herself and brace for Raven's forthcoming thrust.
        Raven didn't enter her just yet, he teased his cock at the tip of her sex, biting the lobe of her ear. She cried out in frustration, and a low grunt slipped through his tightly shut lips "Patience, Hamila," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "All good things come to those who wait." With that, he finally forced himself inside her, a deep groan escaping his lips as he claimed her warmth once more.