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Gilded Shackles Are Still Slavery

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Khaliq
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Joined: 20 Dec 2009
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PostPosted: Mon Dec 12, 2011 2:53 am Post subject: Gilded Shackles Are Still Slavery Reply with quote

Khaliq lay in the absolute darkness, his lover nestled into the crook of his arm. He had spent the last half day with her, patrolling, swords training simply talking and in the end, love-making yet he still knew so little about her. The blackness she insisted on in his chambers only added to the allure. It was like in his homeland; the most beautiful of women covered themselves completely, including veils that obscured everything but her eyes.

Like in his homeland....

His homeland...

Home...

He grabbed his temples and cried out as the white-hot flare shot through his mind and his surroundings melted away




Khaliq nearly stumbled from the force of his brother's "gentle" smack across the back of the head. "Atash!" Atash''Sami was ten years older than the teenage prince, and the decade of difference expressed itself with a foot of height and ten stones of muscle. Khaliq idolized his older brother. As the crown prince of Ajay'Akaash, it was his duty to lead the army against the incursions of the Golmaal, but he always found time for his little brother. Khaliq rubbed his freshly shaved head. "Why did you do that?"

"Stop staring at the concubines on the balcony. You are to be unconcerned with women." Khal felt his brother's hand engulf the back of his neck and steer him across the courtyard. "Father does not need complications."

They entered the cool inner chamber. Frescoes covered the walls and the columns were decorated with mosaic, illustrating deeds of long dead ancestors in the ancient war with the worshipers of Chaos. "Both you and father enjoy relations with the concubines." The boy-prince smiled. "I don't have a wife I have to hide my deeds from."

Atash's laughter echoed through the domed chamber. "You are too clever for your own good."

They found their way to a side chamber and relaxed on a pair of divans. As they lounged, servants brought them honey wine and fruit ice. "What you fail to understand little brother is that neither father or I hide our relations. Now that we have wives, any children are considered theirs. When you are old enough and your wife is arranged, then you can have your pick of them."

Khaliq shook his head. "I don't understand, neither mother or your wife mind you or father bedding the concubines?"

"We have our station; to rule. They have theirs; little more than property." He waved his hand dismissively in the air. "It is a concubine, not a citizen or even worse, a noblewoman. If I favor a concubine too much, Azja would simply have her sent away, sold or killed. Now, were you to have a child before you were married, especially with one of the slaves...it would be bad."

"Why?"

Atash took a few bites of his fruit ice. "It would be expensive and scandalous. Father would be seen as being unable to control his house. The concubine, and all the concubines who share her harem chamber would have to be purged."

Khaliq gulped. "P...purged?"

"By fire." Atash drained his goblet. "By tradition and law. To make sure none of your seed escaped to be used to sire a bastard line and threaten the house, and to remind the concubines their caste and the rules set forth for them. They know as well as you, even moreso, that it is forbidden to have relations with an unwed member of the house."

Khaliq pondered his brother's words as he drank his wine. "Why would it be worse if it was a noblewoman?"

"It would force a marriage. One that may or may not be advantageous to the royal house. The wife would be seen as an opportunist. Forced her way up." Atash winked at the serving girl as she refilled his goblet. "Father would have to pay the dowry, but I'm fairly certain she or the child would not live to see the first anniversary if the marriage was more of a hindrance than a boon.." He shrugged. "Accidents happen."

"I...I didn't realize..."

Atash patted his brothers leg. "Of course you didn't. Mother and father were a marriage of choice. They were in love before they married. Azja is a dutiful wife and pleasant to look at. I can't imagine father would marry you off to a hag. Your wife I imagine will be much like Azja; well bred, well mannered and dutiful. Once you have a son, no one will care who you bed." His eyes narrowed. "Until then, keep it in your loincloth."




The pain passed, and in the inky blackness, Khals mind pictured the face of the Golmaal princess he was to marry that would have sealed the treaty. No, she was no hag, but her inhuman skintone and scarlet eyes belied her taint of Chaos. She was a reflection of her people. The people that he had been bred to hate and kill. The people that had slain his brother.

He pulled his mysterious lover tight to him and stroked her hair. No, he would be with whom he chose. Concubines may have been property, but he was free.
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