The Barbarian's Tale

Ordinary hunting lodges were little more than thatched huts. Space for a hearth, plus a few sleeping mats.

Of course, the Ashem were an important family. Their hunting lodge on the Shak’s mountain was as much a social venue as a practicality. The hearth-room opened into a courtyard, lit with lanterns and dotted with cushions. The centre was set aside for the hired musicians and dancers.

Somewhere, hidden away, the kitchen staff were cooking up all the bounties of the valley: roasted quail, goat’s cheese tarts, pickled greens, and berry wine… Despite Rae’s nasty experience not long ago, he still couldn’t resist temptation. He carefully watched the other guests eating each item and after a few minutes, piled his plate high.

Other than Ven and his servants, the young ladies and gentlemen at the party were not often permitted at the Shak’s palace, and wouldn’t know Rae’s face. He was dressed well, in a red brocade coat, pristine riding boots, and gold studs in his ears. To those not in the know, he appeared to be a young master from out of town. So it goes without saying, he attracted a lot of attention.

The only person there he couldn’t compare to was young master Ven. Rae hadn’t got a chance to talk with him since he’d arrived, since Ven was always flanked by at least a half dozen stunning beauties.

“Young master, are you jealous of Master Ven?” the girl Rae had sat down with asked. Her voice was high and lilting, but there was the slightest furrow between her brows, which betrays annoyance at Rae’s wandering gaze.

“Not at all,” Rae said, scrambling for an explanation, “does he hold gatherings like this often? He seems rather popular?”

The girl was the daughter of small camp’s store-master. Young, buxom, sun-bleached and easygoing, she was the first girl Rae had managed to start a conversation with that evening.

“No, no. Master Ven is quite a rare sight in these parts. He usually spends most of the year at camp Ashem. Whenever he does come to visit the Shana, he will throw a few dinner parties, but rarely are they as extravagant as this,”

“Is that so,” Rae said, his narrowed gaze falling back on Ven. His companion sighed, and sunk back in her seat.

“I suppose this might be the last time we see him, if the Shana and Shali will be moving back to Camp Ashem soon…” she sighed.

Rae didn’t reply. He knew he was wasting a good opportunity to pry for intel. Knew he was being rude.

But Ven’s hair, normally coiled into a neat topknot, was tumbling down his shoulders like the freshest of mountain springs. Rae was parched just looking at it.

“Um,” Rae babbled, “What do the elders at your camp think of the Ashem?” he asked.

The girl’s frown deepened, “how would I know about something like that?”

“Have you ever heard them discussing Duke Ashem? What do they say about him? Or the Shana?”

“Or young master Ven, right? If he’s all you can think about you can entertain someone else,”

Rae stuttered the beginnings of an excuse, before giving up. She stalked off, and Rae noticed several other guests glaring and shaking their heads at him.

It’s a good thing no one’s recognised me yet…

Ven was lounging on some cushions across the courtyard, one beauty draped on his lap and another at his shoulder.

Coming here was a waste of time, Rae realised. Without Gaori to grease the wheels of social interaction, he didn’t stand a chance with anyone here.

Rae was searching for a servant to fetch his cloak, when he was approached.

“Poor dear, have you been left all alone?”

A voluptuous woman, dressed in deep indigo, took a puff from her pipe as she regarded Rae, “Don’t go so soon, the night is still young,”

Her rich, sultry voice was perfectly complimented by a flawless complexion, lips painted a deep red and a single beauty mark under her left eye. She might have seemed like an innocent doe, no different from Ven’s other beauties, but her dark eyes betrayed an intelligent, scheming nature.

“Might I ask the lady’s name?” Rae asked.

“You might. My lord, I heard from the other girls that you’re interested in gossiping about young master Ashem. I’m willing to entertain you if you wish,”

Rae hesitated. The woman had the aura of a courtesan, and while she spoke plainly enough, he truly didn’t know how to converse with such a woman.

“Your name?”

“Edomi. I’m the lead performer of Azalea Hall,” she said, studying Rae’s expression for a moment, before adding, “It’s a pleasure house, darling,”

Against his better judgment, Rae acquiesced. First Edomi fetched them each a cup of wine, and then they settled down on some cushions nestled under a willow tree.

“Duke Ashem is of course well respected, but his ill manners have made him a few enemies,” Edomi revealed before Rae could even form a question, “but he’s so powerful, no one would dare act against him. Even the previous Shak owed him a level of respect,”

“Aren’t the Duke’s sworn in service to the Shak?” Rae asked.

“Why of course, but the Shak is only a mortal man, after all. His power only goes as far as his name can carry him. And he depends on his Dukes to defend the frontier.”

She was evidently more than the average courtier. Knowledgeable, beautiful and cunning. A rare jewel indeed.

Edomi was right about the Ashem, even if one took issue with them, they would have to be a fool with a death wish to openly make a move against them.

“Of course, you would know that very well, wouldn’t you?”

Rae should have left the party then, but he still had his drink to finish and strange as she was, Edomi was right. The wine tasted delightful.

It would be rude to leave without speaking a word to Ven. Rae didn’t know what they were to each other, but it couldn’t have been too far away from friends, could it?

He’d need a lot more to drink if he was going to elbow his way into the man of the hour’s inner circle—first haskap wine. Then plum. Then the bitter liquor that had been carried up the mountains by imperial traders. Then more plum wine.

Rae could hold his drink well, but he was starting to sway slightly on his feet after all that. The warmth and fuzzy anticipation in his stomach conquered his sense of embarrassment.

To overcome the haze, he must first surrender to it. To calm the frenzy, he must seek release.

The crowd parted as he approached Ven, and he was met by the most dazzling smile he’d seen yet.

“Ah! Everyone- this is the one I told you all about. It’s his first time in the Shak’s camp so do make him feel welcome,”

Immediately, a few other guests said some pleasantries to them, but Rae didn’t have any way of splitting his attention from Ven.

“Ven, I want to talk,”

Ven blinked at him, so obviously it was comical. He cleared his throat, the bobbing of it made Rae shiver.

“Friend, are you feeling alright?” Ven said, drawing closer, a light sheen of sweat on his furrowed forehead. Rae wanted to reach out and smooth it back to perfect porcelain.

He spoke in a low voice, one that only Rae would hear, “You’ve had a little too much, I think,”

“No, no…” Rae shook his head, “I just want to talk to you!”

“Master Ven, I can have my people take this drunk home,” someone sneered, and Rae worried he might cry.

“I just want you,” he said, grabbing onto Ven’s arm.

“Young master,” a servant suddenly appeared at Rae’s side, “shall I take him back?”

Before Rae could protest, Ven had already waved him away.

“No need. There’s room for him to rest here, I’ll take care of it. Everyone, please continue to enjoy the festivities,”

He gently unhooked Rae’s grip from his sleeve and led him into the house, some powerful aura preventing any of the other guests from following.

“Ven, I regret what I said at the tea-house. I shouldn’t have turned you down,”