Staunch the Flow
"Civilizations die from suicide, not by murder."
- Arnold J. Toynbee
Slovenia bade the captain to kneel before her. He bowed his head sombrely and took a knee.
"I find you very vexing, Uman," she whispered.
He looked up at her when she spoke. A brief shadow of tension darkened his features.
"Why is he afraid?" Slovenia asked, rhetorically.
She rose from her throne and descended from the raised plinth that supported it. She approached the kneeling captain with feline grace and he lowered his eyes in supplication.
"Forgive my insolence my liege," he begged. "I did not intend to offend. I was merely looking out for the safety of my men."
"I am not vexed by your desire to protect your men," she replied. "In fact, I wish more of my men would speak up on matters of strategy. I am confident in my abilities as a general but I'm mortal too. I cannot be expected to think of everything."
She shot a disapproving glance at Israel who had silently taken up position behind the kneeling captain. The eunuch looked away, suitably chastised.
"No, there is something else that troubles me," she continued as she circled around Uman, gently tracing a line along his shoulders with an outstretched hand.
"Do you love me, Uman?" she leaned in close and whispered in his ear, leaving her hand draped nonchalantly over his left shoulder.
"I... that is," he stammered, caught off guard by the directness of the question.
"Your highness, I… I would die for you," he recovered well.
"Be that as it may," she said, stepping back. "That is not what I asked."
She bade him to stand by gently cupping his chin. He stood, but kept his eyes lowered. Again, she circled the nervous captain, slowly tracing her hand down from his shoulder and across his torso. Uman clenched his jaw nervously and squeezed his eyes shut. He did not like where this was going.
"If I was to offer myself to you, would you take me?" she firmly pressed her body into his as she whispered the words.
She sensed him tense and recoil ever so slightly before he caught himself and responded in the expected manner. It was too late, she stepped back, pushing him away.
Israel grabbed his head from behind, pulling it back to expose his neck. With a deft stroke of his dagger, he opened the captain's throat. The eunuch stepped back from the man as blood gushed in gurgling torrents from the wound.
Uman flailed about, a look of terror on his face. His mouth gaped open and shut, blood gushing from his lips as he attempted to scream. He fell to his knees, clasping his hands around his throat in a futile attempt to staunch the flow.
"Fill my goblet with some of that blood before he spills it all," Slovenia commanded Israel as she walked towards the pile of furs and pillows that served as her bed. She did not spare the dying Captain a second thought.
"I find that noble blood of such youthful vintage is a delicacy that should not go to waste. Oh, and fetch me that slave, the ebony one with the horse cock. I fancy a ride this evening."
Israel nodded curtly and left. He ignored the dead captain's entourage, who were waiting patiently outside the tent. Better to keep them in the dark for now while he dealt with the mess. Instead, he made a beeline for the Constable at Arm's quarters. A strong gust of wind pulled on Israel's cloak as he hurried into the temporary shelter afforded by the constable’s tent. The constable was a tall, gruff man, unshaven and thus of indeterminate age. Israel guessed he was roughly in his mid-thirties but he could not be sure. He was seated on the end of his cot bed idly examining his grizzled face in a polished bronze bowl.
"You will have to assign a new command," Israel said, not bothering with a formal greeting.
"Uman has been... discharged. The Countess would like you to consider her nephew, Belarus, for the commission."
"What do you mean, 'Uman has been discharged'?" the constable asked, looking up in surprise.
Israel paused for a moment before responding.
"Let's just say he has been given an early retirement."
The constable put the bronze bowl away and stood up, towering over the eunuch.
"The tribes that were loyal to Uman will not be easy to control without him," he said, poking the eunuch in the chest to emphasize his point.
"The Countess won't be able to fuck all of them into submission."
Israel rolled his eyes in resignation.
"The situation is what it is," he replied.
He reached into a fold in his robe and pulled out an official-looking parchment.
"Here is the official certificate of office. The Countess and I have already signed and witnessed it. Please ensure that a suitable candidate makes his mark."
The constable took the document. He scanned it quickly and grunted his disapproval.
"I'm sure my opinion is of no consequence, but I shall offer it in any case." he set the parchment aside and sat back down on the edge of the cot bed and resumed the inspection of his face.
"Belarus is a terrible choice. He is young, inexperienced, and impetuous. He also has a reputation for buggering his serving boys and a known penchant for general debauchery. The tribesmen will not respect his authority."
Israel snorted in response and turned to leave.
"They will respect the addition of his cavalry and two units of pikemen to his cohort," he said, bustling out of the tent.
"Aye, that they might." the constable said under his breath. "You ball-less sycophant."
Art by Daniel Sheldon https://www.facebook.com/speednperspective
