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for what?"

"For the claim speech."

0o0o0o0o

He throws the bloody muscular organ down onto the floor. It lands in a 'squish' sort of sound, blood splattering everywhere. The crowd of nearly 200 men being to chatter in disgust, wondering whose heart lay on the floor there.

I sit on the pillow and try not to retch from the sight of the heart of a deceased man lying limply on the stone floors. It was a much prettier sight wrapped in the cloth. When Abigor begins to speak, I do not understand what he says. But my clever mind can infer.

"Wannan shi ne zuciyar mutum," he says, pointing at the red organ on the stone floor, leaking blood onto the floor. "An tsage daga kirji da mutum ya yi kokari ya sa hannunsa a kan wata mace. Kuma wãne ne mace? Ita Tiger kambori, na mace daga karfe mulkokin Bellechester." (This is the heart of a man. It was torn from the chest of a man that tried to lay his hands on a woman. And who is the woman? She is Tiger Claw, my woman from the iron kingdom of Bellechester.)

The men in the room are silent, eyes widened, mouths shut, ears listening. Abigor continues with wrath in his eyes. "Ban yi imani da cewa na yi ya bayyana a fili cewa Tiger kambori ne mine. Na da'awar da su kamar yadda kaina, kuma wannan shi zai sa ta gaba daya kashe iyaka zuwa gare ku, al'aurar mata-ji yunwa bastards." (I do not believe that I have made it clear that Tiger Claw is mine. I have claimed her as my own, and that makes her completely off limits to you cunt-hungry bastards.)

I watch him as he steps down from his place at his throne and kicks the heart on the floor a few feet. He laughs menacingly. "Za ka iya ba shãfe ta ba tare da izinin ta, za ka iya magana ba mata, na iya ko kalle ta ba tare da izini na! Na yi tofi a kan maza da cewa suna da hadama kamar yadda ya dauki wani mutum mace a matsayin nasa. Idan ba ka so ka kawo karshen sama da ciwon zuciyar ka a kasa a can, sai na shawara ka zauna bãya. Na stomp a kan zukãtan mutanen da suka sa hannu a kan mace! (You may not touch her without my permission, you may not speak to her, and you may not even look at her without my permission! I spit on the men that are so greedy as to take another man's woman as his own. Unless you want to end up having your heart on the floor there, I advise you to stay away. I stomp on the hearts of men who lay a hand on my woman!)

His boot comes down heart on the floor. I look away as spurts of blood rocket out of the veins and openings in the muscular organ. "Idan ka sosai kamar yadda ya zo kusa da ita, zan sa sharar gida a gare ka! Zan kone ka innards kuma ka ciyar da dabbobin ka, mount kanka a kan wani gidan kamar boar ta, da kuma jefa ka fita zuwa cikin laka ga acid da ruwa a wanke kan ka Rotting jiki." (If you so much as come near her, I will lay waste to you! I will burn your innards and feed them to your animals, mount your head on a post like a boar's, and throw you out into the mud for the acid rain to wash over your rotting flesh.)

He picks up the crushed heart and throws it into the crowd. The men shuffle to get out of the way. "Kada a goge maganata kashe sauki. Duk da yake ina gane cewa wannan gargadi, dole ne ka gane cewa wannan ma barazana. Kada ka yi kuskure a gare ni, da na maza," he rants. "Na yi alkawari wadannan sakamakon a kanku!" (Do not wipe my words off easily. While I realize that this is a warning, you must realize that this is also a threat. Do not mistake me, my men. I promise these results to you!)

My heart is pounding and I find myself feeling ill and sweaty. He is done with his rant now. He summons one of his servants over to throw away the body part and clean up the floor. He walks back over to me and shows me the quick flick of his wrist. "Up," he says.

I stand and follow him out the door. As I leave, the men shuffle out of the way so quickly, acting as if I have an extremely contagious disease that could kill them instantly. I don't know what Abigor's said to them, but his 'claim' speech was quite a passionate and angry one.

I race to his side. None of the men will look at me. I tap his arm. "Abigor." He does not answer. His face is red and he looks quite flustered and upset. "Abigor!"

He raises his hand as if he wants to slap me, but he stalls. "What did I tell you about calling me my commoner's name in public?"

My eyes are as wide as saucers and my lip is quivering. "I…I'm sorry."

His shoulders slump and his head ducks down into his hands. His thumbs rub his temples in circular motions. "No…no, it's alright. Just remember next time, yes?"

I nod my head. He curls a huge, bulky arm around my waist and pulls me along down the hallway. I lean into his embrace comfortably. "What did you tell them? I couldn't follow along."

He stares ahead, the corners of his lips fighting the urge to quirk up into a smile. "Just somethin' that needed to be said. That's all."

I frown, looking up at him. "Tell me."

"No."

"I demand you to tell me—"

"You do not demand," he snaps. "I demand. And I demand that you ask no more questions."

Now he's only made me even more curious as to what he's been talking about. As soon as we're in his private chambers, I feel slightly more comfortable about being with him. I sit on his bed while he sits in his favourite chair, smoking his pipe. "I want you to teach me more," I say. "Please."

Abigor glances at me out of his peripheral vision. "Woman. Mace."

I nod my head. "Mace. How do you say, 'I am a woman' in your language?"

"Ni mace."

I stand from my seat and point to myself. "Ni…mace."

He nods his head. "Heart. Zu—"

"Zuciya," I blurt.

He looks at me in minor shock and smiles softly. "You learn quick."

I shrug my shoulders. "A zuciya ga zuciya."

He silences at my line. He knows what it means. "Thief," he continues. "Is barawo."

"And how do you say 'you are'?"

"Kai ne."

"Kai ne barawo," I tell him. "Ni mace. Ni…Tiger Kambori."

He smiles widely this time. "You shall be speaking fluently in no time. Most people say that Hausa is a difficult language for correct pronunciation, but you seem like a natural."

I shrug my shoulders. "Because I've you to help me with it. What better teacher is there than the king of the barbarians?"

He leans his chin into the palm of his hand, letting the pipe in his other hand die down a little. "Na'am."

"And that means yes," I tell him matter-of-factly like he doesn't already know that.

"How about I quiz you?" he questions. I nod my head quickly in agreement. I'd love to test my knowledge. "Mace."

"Mace. Woman," I reply.

"Barawo."

"Barawo. Thief."

"Hannayen."

"Oh!" I exclaim. "This one is hands. It even kind of sounds like hands."

He nods his head. "Good. And zuciya?"

This word is my absolute favourite word of all. "Zuciya," I reply. "Is heart."

"Giya."

"Giya. Wine."

"Alright," he says, sitting up in his chair. "I've got another one. I want you to guess it."

I nod my head. "Very well. Tell me."

"Tawa."

I bite my lip in confusion. "Oh, but this could be any word in the world," I complain weakly. "Give me a hint at least."

He nods his head. "It rhymes with the word for giya."

Giya means wine. He wants me to find a word that rhymes with wine. Vine, swine, fine, line, whine, pine, dine, shine, shrine, sign, twine. And then a word pops into my mind quickly. I look up at him. A storm is brewing in the shadowy depths of Abigor's eyes. "Is the word mine?"

"Na'am."

I fold my legs over one another. "And how do you say, yours?"

"Naku."

I tuck a tendril of hair behind my ear. "I see," I whisper. "Naku da tawa?"

He lifts the pipe slowly back up to his lips, taking a long drawl of the smoke. He keeps his eyes on mine the whole time. He yanks the pipe away from his mouth as a dragon of smoke comes curling out from his lips. His eyelids flutter shut. "Na'am."
Sin

Abigor had said to me that he needed to tend to some royal business. The royal business is also known as preparing for the next raid. The barbarians are relentless. He told me to go to the harem and stay there until further notice. He told me he doesn't like the idea of having me running rogue around the castle where the other men lounge around.

But I was quite fine with going to the harem. I had a few questions that I figured that some of the harem girls would understand and answer for me. When I walk into the room, I notice it's mostly empty. Cassandra sits on her cot, lazily staring out one of the large windows in the side of the wall. It is placed high, probably designed to keep the whores from escaping the harem.

Sulpicia, Didyme, Athenodora, Evalyn and Ivona are gone from the harem. Even Michelle is gone. Cassandra sits up from her place at the cot. "Hello," she greets softly. "I haven't seen your face in quite some time."

I blush and clasp my hands behind my back. "Nor have I seen you," I reply quietly. I look around the room. "I suppose it's a busy day since no one's here."

Cassandra nods her head, her blonde curls bouncing. "Oh, yes. The men have been very hands-on lately. I haven't gotten a break since…well, since fifteen minutes ago when Three Horses dumped me back in here."

I sit down on the edge of her cot. She moves over and makes room for me. "I thought Three Horses had a wife," I whisper. "Isn't she the king's older sister?"

"Snow Lion?" Cassandra questions. I nod my head. "Oh," she laughs. "Snow Lion is very pregnant right now and Three Horses has been selfishly deprived of cunt for a while since her bits are hurting."

I find myself frowning. Three Horses should be by his wife's side, comforting her and helping her through the painful pregnancy. He should not be in the arms of another woman while she's lying in bed in pain.

"Quite honestly," Cassandra begins. "I believe that he should be at home, by her side instead of fucking me here but men do whatever they wish to and fuck whomever they please. His wife is almost certainly ready to pop any moment now."

"Oh my," I reply. "Who's there with her?"

Cassandra shrugs her shoulders. "Probably some midwives and close female friends. Men aren't allowed into the birthing rooms."

I cock my head to the side in confusion. "I'm not

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