The raiding party returned triumphantly, carrying plundered supplies and captured slaves. Cheers rang across the coalition camp and echoed to the skies. The steppe people had achieved an overwhelming victory in their first strike and doubtlessly left a deep impression on the Gadat. Once word reached the distant empire, a punitive force would follow soon. In the meantime, the earthen forts along the unnamed shallow river would not get any more supplies and perhaps had to be abandoned. With a single raid, the steppe people had dealt the empire's expansion plans a heavy blow.
Viyal's family returned as heroes. They led the charge against the Gadat soldiers and routed them long before their reinforcements' flags even appeared over the horizon. By the time they arrived, all that remained was a field of corpses and burned supplies. Anything the steppe raiders could not carry had been set alight, a sign that they would not leave anything for their enemies.
The supplies carried back by the Zakhira warriors were distributed among the people, and the prisoners were brought into the middle of the camp. Among the mostly civilian captives were a few soldiers and caravan guards, disarmed and disheveled. Most species from the empire were considerably shorter than those of the steppe. They shivered from head to toe, terrified by their towering captors eyeing them like livestock.
The majority were not Samagshin like Tashi but instead came from the various minority species, the second-class citizens of the Omagala Empire. Some looked like Tulana, diminutive humanoid rabbits, but with slightly different features from their steppe relatives. There were also goat-like people, doubtlessly related to the Shangra of the western mountains. They were the menial laborers for the Samagshin ruling class; their lives would not change much here compared to how they were treated in the empire.
But for the few Samagshin among them, mainly the soldiers and perhaps caravan leaders, it would be an unbearable difference. At the worst of times, they were simple citizens. Even those with rather humble backgrounds likely had a servant from among the lesser species in the household. Now, they would be slaves to a people they considered their inferiors.
Amiro took Viyal by her hand and walked before the Gadat on display. The other tribesmen stepped back to give them space, causing some prisoners to raise their heads slightly and peek at the reason. They saw the towering Mosyv chief and shuddered in terror. Still, they were rooted in place even without restraints, knowing that trying to run would get them killed on the spot.
"Pick one to serve as your handmaiden," Amiro announced to Viyal, gesturing at a group of young girls huddling together at the end of the lineup. It was always difficult to tell the age of different species, but they were all likely children still. And judging by their simple clothes, servants to the Samagshin who brought them to this land.
"You would leave your daughter with someone who holds a grudge against our people?" Viyal whispered to her father, eyeing the servant candidates suspiciously. He looked at her in surprise, then bared his sharp teeth in an amused grin.
"They know that death can come in many forms. If they harmed you or anyone else of our people, it would not come easy for them," he declared, speaking at a deliberately loud volume for the prisoners to hear. Of course, they did not know the steppe language and could not understand him, but his tone was enough to make them flinch. He then lowered his voice and addressed his daughter, "I learned from the Shaankhor. With our tribe's current size and standing, it is only natural that the chief and his family have servants to tend to the menial tasks they used to do themselves."
The Zakhira tribe already had servants like any other steppe people. They usually came from defeated tribes, be it captured after a battle or volunteered as tribute. Their tasks mostly consisted of cleaning, fetching water, and various odds and ends around the camp. If Amiro had not pointed them out to her in the past, Viyal would have never even known they were slaves since they seemed to live quite freely among the tribesmen. They even had their own families and children who were born free.
But the Gadat were different. They had been sent all this way to a foreign land along with their whole families. Families that had been slaughtered before their very eyes by those they were now forced to serve. Viyal was unsure if fear of a torturous death would be enough to keep them from seeking retribution.
"Trust me, they never dare to resist," Gavro appeared beside his brother and said. "They fear death more than they hate us."
Perhaps that was the truth. Viyal saw the different kinds of people being chased down as they ran in every direction at the end of the battle. Some faced capture with desperate defiance. Others practically turned into ragdolls when they were caught. Those who did not fear death died on the battlefield; those who would rather die standing than live kneeling had been killed after. The ones left, now shivering before her, would do anything to survive, including serving the murderers of their families.
She furrowed her brow. This kind of thinking was wholly incompatible with her very essence as a person. Shizuru had been born a chosen one and would have stood above thousands, perhaps even millions, if not for her untimely death. Viyal was destined to stand above billions. She would never grovel, even if her life depended on it.
"How about this one? Nice and plump. Could make for emergency food," Amiro pointed at a female Shangra who was on the chubby side and spoke half in jest. Of course, he did not believe such an emergency would ever come to pass. The part about treating the poor girl like food was serious, though.
"We are not eating them," Viyal said, punching her father's thigh weakly. She then turned to the terrified girls. "We are not eating you."
"It was a joke," Amiro acted hurt and clicked his tongue. Of course, the captives did not understand anything about their interaction. But seeing the razor-sharp teeth of the Mosyvvi, the young prisoners huddled closer together in fear.
"To save them from your ravenous appetite, I'll take them all," Viyal faced her father and declared with her arms crossed. It was her usual spoiled princess stance.
"Don't be selfish. They are the tribe's spoils of war. You can ask for a share because you are my daughter. Become a chief and lead your tribe into battle before you can demand more," he said calmly. He did not play along with her act this time. This was a matter of principle for the steppe people. "But know this. Even the greatest chief cannot demand all the spoils. It would only invite discontent from the warriors who bled for them."
Viyal stared at her father's serious expression, then lowered her gaze. She knew that even before making her demand. She just hoped there was a possibility of getting away with it somehow. These girls were still so young and would grow up as servants. They would receive no education and live in constant fear of being mistreated or even killed by their owners. She wanted to spare them of that fate to the best of her abilities.
"Choose one," Amiro concluded, leaving unspoken that it was more than she rightfully deserved as somebody who did not fight for it. It was his gift to his daughter, a share taken from his share.
The young Mosyv looked at the girls and felt a pang in her heart. She had steeled herself to the reality of life in this world many times before, but this was not something she could imagine ever getting used to. Once she had conquered the world, she would forbid slavery entirely. But until she had the power to enforce such a dream, all she could do was close her mind to it.
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"This one, then." Viyal channeled her frustration at her powerlessness into acting as if she chose begrudgingly. She pointed at the youngest among them, barely the size of a ten-year-old human girl. She shrunk at the attention and tried to hide behind the others. She had short gray hair in a buzz cut that seamlessly connected with the light brown fur that ran down the back of her neck and disappeared into her collar. Her black eyes were small and beady but round like saucers from fear. A black button nose completed her overall resemblance to a small prey mammal that was always looking over its shoulder for predators.
Viyal looked around for Tashi but did not see him anywhere. He had walked away silently when they returned from watching the coalition's battle. He would have been able to translate for her since the little she learned of the empire's language was insufficient here. Of course, she could not expect him to attend what was essentially a slavery auction featuring his people.
"Come here. I won't hurt you." She extended an open palm toward the little girl and made sure to smile without showing her sharp teeth. She lowered her scorpion tail and hid it behind her back to appear as unthreatening as possible.
To her utter surprise, the other girls pushed her forward as a sacrifice. Viyal caught her as she stumbled, then looked up with a frown that caused them to shy back. They were truly ready to do anything to survive. But in this case, they made the wrong choice. Perhaps they assumed the young Mosyv had picked her for food because she was bite-sized, not knowing that she would treat the little girl better than anybody else in the tribe would treat them.
"Come," Viyal grasped the girl's hand softly, and she shirked back.
"Get on with it," Amiro suddenly demanded, looming over them. "It is getting dark, and the warriors wish to celebrate."
"Go ahead then," she did not look away from the little girl before her and answered her father. Hearing this, he raised a hand and gave the signal. The gathering of people around them, who had been silently and patiently watching, came in from all sides like water filling a bowl. The whole area erupted in clamor as everybody staked their claims on the best slaves.
The girl's head spun left and right, her eyes darting around in terror. Viyal pulled on her hand and guided her through the masses, which naturally parted for the chief's daughter. She flinched when she noticed Yunil appearing from among the people and following them, but Viyal trudged onward silently and forced her along.
Finally, they left the busy area of the camp behind them and headed for Tashi's tent among the Chotul portion at the very rear. The noise of the warriors still arguing over the slaves was barely a background droning here. It was the most likely place Tashi had retreated to after their return.
"Are you there?" Viyal called out to the monkey boy from outside. She heard rustling inside before the tent flap was opened, and a tired-looking Tashi greeted her with a clearly forced smile. He must have lain in bed and mulled over things.
"What brings my lady to my humble abode?" he asked with a bow. Then, he noticed the little girl behind her, who tried to hide when she saw a Samagshin. "Who is that?"
"My new handmaiden. I'll need you to translate for me." With these words, she walked past him and entered the tent. He shared it with the Tulana family, who seemed to have taken him in as one of their own, but they were out.
Unlike the more leatherbound furniture of the Zakhira, the Chotul tribe only used plant materials. The seats around the fireplace were woven like baskets, and the beds were made of cloth rather than fur. As a people who lived like the monks dedicated to Azakhal, the Tulana had found ways to survive on the steppe without any animal husbandry.
Of course, they had nearly been wiped out by a bandit attack, but that could happen to any tribe if they were not strong enough to defend themselves.
"Now that I get a closer look... she's a Diao!" Tashi suddenly exclaimed when she stepped into the light of the fire.
The little girl's small ears perked up at the mention of her species. Her body shivered, then she yanked her hand out of Viyal's grip. With surprising nimbleness, she darted past Tashi and tried to run back outside the tent. But Yunil appeared in the doorway and lifted her off the ground by the waist. She froze in the much taller girl's grasp, understanding that further struggle would only invite punishment or even death.
"Byao pash. Don't be afraid," Tashi spoke to her in a calming tone. Yunil placed her back on her feet but remained in the doorway to preempt any further attempt at running away. The monkey boy continued to speak to the little girl in Omagalan to allay her fears. When he pointed at Viyal and said something, she calmed down visibly, and her eyes finally stopped darting around, looking for an alternative exit.
"What did you tell her?" she wondered.
"That you're a gracious mistress who treats even former slaves like family," he responded while avoiding glancing at Yunil. The Nokkoy sniffed at those words but did not comment.
"So, what is this about her being a Diao? What does that mean?" Viyal changed the topic quickly. The girl's ears twitched again at the mention of the word, and she stared at her intently with her beady black eyes.
"The Diao used to be a primitive tribe living in the heartlands of the empire. They were enslaved centuries ago and now serve as... entertainment for the wealthy," Tashi explained, wearing an expression of disgust. He noticed Viyal's horrified look and realized he made a mistake. "Oh, no, not that kind. Sama Gachin would never even look at one of the people they consider lesser beings in that way. The Diao are made to fight each other to the death for entertainment. Since they have become rather rare, it is a status symbol to be able to host-"
"Enough," Viyal interrupted him; she had heard enough. She looked at the little Diao girl and furrowed her brow. Why was a prized species here, this far from the empire's heartlands? Perhaps one of the people in the caravan had been a wealthy merchant or landlord who relocated here with his entire entourage. Then came another thought. "Does that mean Diao are good fighters?"
"They are, in a way," responded Tashi tentatively. "They don't grow much taller than she is now, but their bodies are incredibly sturdy. That's why they're only ever pitted against each other. And when they enter a frenzy, few species can stop them without sustaining grievous injuries."
Rather than small prey mammals, the Diao were more like wolverines. Viyal wondered if this little one could perhaps take her on, but she was not keen on finding out. In fact, she would prefer it if this poor girl never had to fight for her life ever again. That thought alone threatened to overwhelm her emotions, and she grabbed the little Diao to hug her close. She did not struggle and remained stiff as a board, fearful of the sudden touch. Viyal separated from her quickly, realizing that it only caused her more anxiety, and instead asked, "What is your name?"
"Nimins?" Tashi translated. The girl looked between him and Viyal wide-eyed before averting her gaze. Perhaps nobody had ever bothered to learn her name before. She opened her mouth slightly, then closed it again without making a sound.
"Tell her she can speak freely with us," Viyal said, realizing that she likely had been taught never to talk to her owner. Tashi quickly translated for her, causing the little Diao to look up in confusion.
"Mamai," she finally responded in a hoarse voice before covering her mouth and looking back down fearfully. It sounded like she had not spoken in years, and perhaps that was even the awful truth. Seeing it made Viyal want to hug her again, but given her earlier reaction, it was better to give her some space for now.
She caressed Mamai's cheek and lifted her face so they locked eyes. With the best reassuring expression she could muster, she spoke, "Stay with me, and I will keep you safe."
As Tashi translated for her, Viyal did not break eye contact. She tried to convey her true feelings through her gaze, understanding that this little girl would likely not be able to trust her that easily. Her people had been abused for centuries. She had been taken from her parents at a young age and brought to this foreign land. And now, she became the slave of a people she had never seen before. It would take a long time and a lot of work on Viyal's part before she could open up to her.
"This is what they meant, huh?" Yunil muttered with a sigh. She was referring to how Viyal rescued her from being sold as a slave or even as food long ago. The Zakhira had whispered behind her back that she acted ill-befitting a chief's daughter, treating servants as people when nobody else ever did. Who had she learned such strange behavior from, they always wondered.
"Come, let me wash you and change you into fresh clothes," Viyal did not hear her sister's comment and took Mamai by her hand to leave the tent. Tashi motioned to follow, but she turned to him with her brow furrowed. He raised his hands and stopped, smiling wryly.
Yunil stepped out of the doorway and watched her sister pull the little Diao along. She felt a twinge of envy in her heart; she had been in that position not too long ago. But she also understood that Viyal did not seek to replace her. It was the same with her friendship with Altuna. Her sister's heart was large enough to fit all kinds of outcasts. She only hoped that trait would not invite disaster in the future.