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.Two sons, she had told them, within a month would be conceived, then two daughters.Their Hiding would be unlike any known in the history of the Dasati, for special arrangements had been made to include sympathetic Attenders, Bloodwitch sisters and a few trusted warriors, which would ensure that the location of this Hiding was never discovered, never purged.Within twenty years, a dozen strong sons and daughters would present themselves at Castle Camareen, and Valko’s ascendancy would begin.Valko rose and shouted, ‘Long live the Sadharin!’The fifty lords of the Sadharin pounded the table even harder, hooting their war chant.Lord Andarin of the Kabeskoo shouted, ‘Long live Lord Valko!’Valko picked up his flagon of wine and drained it.His mother had made sure it was heavily watered, for while every other lord of the Sadharin was falling drunk, she wanted her son to keep his wits about him.At the tables below the massive wooden board that served the lords of the Sadharin, the wives and daughters sat observing their men with amused interest.More than one daughter tried to catch the eye of the young lord.But Valko had eyes only for his mother, as she moved gracefully among her guests, ensuring that each was well cared for.She paused behind Lord Makara’s daughter, and let her hand fall to the girl’s shoulder.Valko betrayed nothing, but he knew that this was his mother’s clear instruction as to who he would bed tonight.He considered the girl.She was comely and regarded him with blatant hunger; he knew that she would rejoice should he allow her to declare.Her father would welcome becoming more closely allied with the rising young lord, for he would think of Valko as his client, though soon enough he would realize that the reverse was the case.Valko looked around the room and smiled.The diners were becoming more raucous by the minute.He drank in their approbation and rejoined in his own youthful strength.Much of what his mother had taught him began to fade as his Dasati nature asserted itself, and he took a long drink from his flagon.He wanted wine!As he turned to order another pitcher brought to the table, a gentle hand on his wrist restrained him.Somehow his mother had read his mood and anticipated his lost focus.‘It’s time for the entertainment, my son,’ she said in tones soft enough that none but he could hear.Valko gazed at her for a moment, then nodded.‘My lords!’ he shouted.‘For your amusement!’The doors to the hall were opened and a dozen servants hurried in, bearing a huge earthenware pot.A struggling youth was carried in, bound hand and foot.Valko grinned as he announced, ‘This youth sought to reach his father’s castle, to challenge for a place within his household, and was caught last night in a vadoon snare!’This announcement brought gales of laughter, for the stupid herbivore was easily caught - its primary value was as a source for fur, and its destruction of fruit trees was a nuisance for orchard-owners.The youth would have to have been very inattentive or very stupid to blunder into such a snare.‘Let me go!’ he shouted as he was placed within the pot.He was ready to fight with his bare hands and feet if given the chance, but servants forced him downward, so that his knees were folded up under his chin.As hard as he might struggle, it was a position impossible to change without help, help no one was going to offer.Valko shouted.‘You are an animal! Too stupid even to fight for your place among men.You will die like an animal!’The youth began shouting, a series of enraged snarls and inarticulate screams.The guests at the feast laughed, for his frustration and rage was comical in its impotence.Valko signalled, and servants began pouring buckets of water over the youth’s head.He spat and bellowed, and the laughter in the room mounted.‘In olden times,’ said Valko, ‘it was considered amusing to place a weakling in cold water, then slowly bring it to a boil.‘Now we need no fire, for there are agents that will do the same without heat.’ He motioned and two servants emptied the content of the two bags into the water and stepped back.The reagents began to react and the water began to bubble.The defiant youth’s shouts quickly turned from rage to agony.Some of the mixture splashed on to a servant standing too close, and he clawed at his eyes in pain.The guests began to laugh uncontrollably.The louder the prisoner screamed, the more the guests became lost in paroxysms of hilarity.The lad splashed liquid up on his own shoulders, neck and face and blisters and reddish-orange wounds began to form.The screaming lasted nearly a quarter of an hour, and when the prisoner neared death, Valko could see the guests rising from their seats, staring with avid hunger.The women were ready, Valko could see, many of them running hands up and down their own bodies, and many of the men were showing obvious signs of lust.His mother had been right.A single death, arranged at the proper moment, was more effective than the random slaughters usually orchestrated for these events.Watching half a dozen Lessers trampled by animals or eaten by starving zarkis caused too much distraction, but one death, artfully done, brought intense focus.Valko signalled to a servant.‘Ask Lord Makara’s daughter if she would join me.’ The servant ran over to the indicated girl and whispered to her.Her head came around and her eyes were alight with hunger as her hands clutched at the fabric of her dress.Valko knew that if he wished, she would let him take her right now in front of the assembled company.Several of the lords of the Sadharin had left the head table and were standing close to females they would bed tonight.Valko considered a great number of declarations would occur and in years to come, many sons would arrive at castles as a result of tonight’s mating.Only Valko, his mother and a handful of the Riders of the Sadharin knew that every match was orchestrated by the Bloodwitches, and that every child born of tonight’s mating who survived their Hidings would become servants of the White.Thoughts of the White were difficult to entertain while caught up in the blood and lust of the moment.Valko smiled as the youth’s last breath left his body and declared, ‘Weakling.’His mother whispered, ‘He did not seek to cross Camareen lands, my son.He sought to come to this castle.He was Aruke’s son.He was your brother.’Valko felt an odd chill rise up within and his head snapped around.He locked eyes with his mother and at that moment his feelings were so confused he didn’t know if he could keep from striking her.Yet her soft touch made him focus.‘Had you done anything other than what you did, you would have appeared fatally weak to your guests: you would have shown everyone that you are not worthy to rule the Camareen.Just know the price of what you do.You have just begun the struggle, my son, and the pain you now feel will return, many times in the years to come.’ She caressed his cheek as she had when he was a baby.‘Go now,’ she whispered.‘Put aside all thoughts of pain and suffering, blood and death.Go, make a powerful son this night.’Valko forced his confusion aside, left the table and found the girl waiting for him at the door leading from the hall to his quarters
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