The Essence of Woman.
"Anyone who knows anything of history knows that great social changes are impossible without feminine upheaval. Social progress can be measured exactly by the social position of the fair sex, the ugly ones included."
- Karl Marx
"Your services are no longer required," Slovenia whispered softly as she embraced the Poan ranger. The embrace was fatal. The ranger grunted and his eyes widened in surprise as her royal jambiya curved its way up through his abdomen and pierced his heart.
"Shhh," she soothed gently lowering him to the ground as his legs buckled beneath him.
"It's over now." She stroked his hair softly, almost cooing to him, "there is no more pain."
The ranger spluttered. He became hyper-alert to everything around him as if his brain knew he was going to die and was expending every ounce of energy on experiencing this moment. Slovenia's words washed over him, the delicate lilt of her voice was a calming salve to the raging torrent of adrenal fear that had flooded his body. He drank in the sweet scent of her breath and lost himself in the emerald pools of her eyes. He saw his face swimming and rippling across the iris, his mouth wide open, stretched into a terrible rictus of passion by the curvature of her eyes.
An explosion of color flashed across his consciousness. Slovenia had gently withdrawn the dagger and was slowly pushing it back up through his belly. Blood filled his mouth, the taste sweet and slightly metallic.
"Mother!" He cried, the word lost in the gurgle of blood that spilled from his lips.
"Hush child." Slovenia crooned, a wicked smile flashed across her lips as she pulled the blade out and pushed it back in, a horrible mimicry of love-making.
The ranger choked and coughed as he struggled to breathe sucking blood into his lungs. He was suddenly aware that he was not experiencing the sensation directly. Everything seemed distant and hollow, his perception of himself was no longer internal. He was outside, looking in. A weightless entity hovering above the scene. He could see his broken body mounted by a fire-lit Goddess, arching in the throes of dying orgasm. The vision became distant and hazy, diminishing in size as he floated higher, drawn by the pulsing energy of the Skyforge.
There was a final moment of clarity when Slovenia withdrew the blade for the last time. He saw her face, perceived the eyes of her entourage on him, and felt the burning flame of hate and satisfaction that came from Lord Jordan, who was still bound and gagged but being made to watch. He let out one final, wretched gasp before his vision greyed and deathly silence descended.
Slovenia stood up slowly. She was breathing heavily and her skin was slick with sweat. Jordan was spell-bound. His betrayer, fucked to death by the essence of woman, lay in a slowly expanding pool of blood.
She wiped her dagger against her thigh and turned to face her captive.
"Hello, my love," she said, "How are the children?"
Jordan sighed and then shrugged his shoulders. There was no other way to respond with a gag in his mouth. He turned to look at the knights that surrounded him. They were all still on horseback except for Ghana who had dismounted with Slovenia to check the bonds that secured him.
Slovenia nodded at Ghana who was stood behind Jordan. The burly Knight nodded back and slammed the hilt of his sword into the back of Jordan's head. The warlord toppled forward unconscious.
"Children?" Ghana asked as he knelt beside the unconscious captive and fastened a length of rope to his feet.
"Yes," she replied curtly, "meet Jordan, High Chieftain of Poan Steppes. The estranged father of my only children."
Ghana grunted as he pulled the knot he was tying tight. He checked it was secure before turning to Slovenia.
"Now here's a pretty conundrum," he said softly, as he carefully fastened the loose end of the rope to his horse's saddle.
"How has it come to pass that the leader of our great clan is mother to the princes of our sworn enemy?"
"Don't let it trouble you, Ghana," Slovenia soothed, as she paced back to her own horse and mounted up.
"All will be made clear in the fullness of time. For now, I humbly request that you and your men keep this to yourselves."
Ghana gave each of his men a meaningful stare as he made sure that Jordan was properly hogtied and ready for transport. Each of his men nodded curtly and without hesitation as he made eye contact. No words needed to be spoken.
"My men and I have sworn to protect you from any threat, my lady," he said, "that includes rumor and gossip."
"Thank you, Ghana," She replied, careful to hide her relief. She was not relieved that he was, at least in appearance, a man of honor, but rather that she would not need to kill them all. For now, at least. She had been disappointed by men before.
"All right, men!" She said, raising her voice to address them all, "let's bring our bounty back to the clans. The men could use a little motivation, and I think we have something that will be a delight for all who behold it."
She gently tapped the flanks of her horse with her heels and brought it up to a slow trot. Her bodyguard spurred their own steeds and followed her, Jordan's limp body dragging along the dusty ground behind them.
Ghana drew his horse level with Slovenia's and turned to her. "Tell me, how did you track them down out here? We've been riding for days, and they could have been anywhere."
Slovenia shielded her eyes from the glare of the skyforge as she scanned the sky above them for a moment. She pursed her lips thoughtfully before letting out a piercing whistle. After a few moments, she held out her gauntleted hand.
"Let's just say, a little bird told me," she said, as the small falcon swooped down and landed on her arm,
"Why hello, Israel," she cooed, stroking the animal on the head, "so glad you could join us."
Art by Daniel Sheldon https://www.facebook.com/speednperspective & https://twitter.com/Beatroute