Page 45 of Fated to the Alien Chieftain

Ziroth shifts nervously on his feet. “Alas, I do not Chieftainess,” he says, before pausing, “I had to go further afield to other clan’s territory, to sell the rotten beasts.”

Morios bustles in, “If you insult my herd again,” he threatens, fists clenched tightly.

Krogoth motions for quiet as he shakes his head ruefully. I think it’s this Ziroth guy who is lying, but I can’t be certain. Not without a little peek into his emotions, that will hopefully shed more light on the situation.

Reaching into Ziroth’s mind, I project a part of my consciousness into his. His feelings of guilt, anxiety and barely contained fear wash over my mind like a wave.It’s him, but how to prove it? Play on his fear?

I march across the platform to stand before Ziroth, my cloak flowing behind me. His eyes dart nervously at my approach. “Chieftainess?” he inquires.

“Ziroth, have you ever dealt with a human female before?” I demand, my voice stern and loud. Already guessing the answer.

“Ah... Well, no,” Ziroth stammers, as he licks his lips nervously.

“Human females have the ability to sniff out truth from lies,” I lie.But does Ziroth believe it?“You reek of lies, Ziroth.” I lean over to sniff loudly close to his face, noticing him shaking and the sheen of sweat glistening on his red skin. “Yeah, you’re definitely lying.” I hold my nose for dramatic effect. “You smell terrible.”

Ziroth’s eyes grow wide as saucers. “Get away from me, foul sorceress!” He falls onto his ass, trembling with fear. “I sold the herd for one hundred and twenty thousand credits!” He holds uphis hands, pleading. “I lied, okay, I’m sorry. Please don’t ask me anymore questions!”Got him! I wonder what else he’s trying to hide the lying snake?

There’s a moment of stunned silence before raucous cheering echoes around the hall. Soon a chant of “Rocks!” is taken up by the crowd. I feel elation as I look out to see the merry faces calling my name. It’s then I notice my hands are no longer shaking.When did that happen?Instead of fear and anxiety, I feel only joy and pride. A broad smile crosses my face as I give a brief bow toward the attendees.

Krogoth places a massive hand on my shoulder, his voice booming to rise above the din of the crowd. “That was brilliantly handled, Pebbles!” he exclaims, his face radiant with pride. His smile is a delight to behold.

“I think you were right, Krogoth. Being a Chieftainess suits me just fine,” I say, laughing.

He taps me on the backside, leaning in close to my ear. “Never doubted it for a nanosecond, my love,” he whispers, sending tingles down my spine.

Krogoth addresses the audience with both hands raised as he waits for silence before speaking. “Ziroth has admitted his guilt!” He shouts, his voice ringing out over the hall, before turning to glare at Ziroth. “You shall pay Morios the one hundred and twenty thousand credits that you owe.” Ziroth looks like he might throw up as he squirms like a worm on the ground. “And you will receive the red mark of a cheat upon your hand, so all will know you have deceived a fellow Draxxus, brother.” Ziroth shakes his head in horrified disbelief. “Finally, to mend your dishonor, you will be scourged by Morios until your cries satiate his wrath.”

My mouth opens slightly in shock at the brutal sentence. It’s almost enough to make me feel sorry for Ziroth. I only hope that Morios is not the wrathful type, but my hopes are dashed ashe unfurls a cruel-looking multi-lash whip made of old leather and heavy knots at the end.They’re going to carry out the punishment right here?

Ziroth struggles feebly, repeating “I’m sorry!” frantically, as Draxxus men drag him roughly to one of the nearby walls.

Krogoth sweeps his hand through his cloak dramatically. “It is a terrible thing to cheat a brother, for all we have in this universe are our bonds,” he declares solemnly, Then, consults his wrist console, he adds, “Let’s see.” Glancing up into the crowd, he continues. “Noroth and Vethios, you bring a request for Krak-Tok?” As he speaks, I furrow my brow, trying to recall the strange yet familiar term.

A loud crack echoes through the hall, stiffening my spine, followed by the terrible wails of Ziroth. My heart sinks for his pain, but as Chieftainess, I force myself to turn my focus away, hardening my heart.

Two men with bare chests approach and stand before the platform, one displaying thick muscles, long red hair, and a face flattened as if it’s been used as a highway. The other, lanky, almost as tall as Krogoth but with long brown hair, his knuckles covered in scarcely healed scars. They both strike me as men used to fighting, that you wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of.

“Correct Chieftain. Vethios insulted my honor. I demand redress,” The red-haired man says gruffly, his flattened nose causing a soft whistle with each breath.

Krogoth nods, gesturing to the brown-haired warrior. “What say you, Vethios?”

“We were deep in our horns, and I merely mentioned that Noroth should learn to dodge a few blows, instead of blocking them all with his face!” Vethios smirks, drawing laughter and taunts from the crowd.

As Noroth lunges towards Vethios, a gasp escapes me, but thankfully quick and strong hands from the audience restrain him. “Voiding Vethios, dishonors me even now!” Noroth roars, his blue eyes misting in his rage.

Krogoth’s frown deepens. “Two of my best fighters, wanting to kill each other—”

The crack of the whip echoes across the hall, cutting off Krogoth’s words. It’s followed by more agonizing screams from Ziroth, tugging at my heartstrings.Must be strong, Roxy, this is their way.

“Suffer in silence, Ziroth!” Krogoth’s shout fills the hall, as he rubs his temples in annoyance. “Someone give him something to bite down on,” he commands, gesturing toward Ziroth.

To my surprise, Krogoth approaches me with concern on his face. He leans in close, speaking softly, “What do you think, Pebbles? Should I let them kill each other?”

My instinctual answer is obviously no, even so I project my essence into the two scary warriors. Staring at them, waves of stubborn pride, fear and anger mingle together.

“They will not back down because of their pride, but both are afraid of dying,” I pause, worried about adding the last truthful part. “But they are full of anger as well.”

Krogoth’s smile widens before he plants a kiss on my cheek, eliciting mocking “ohs” from the crowd. “Perfect! You’re a blessing from the Gods!” he exclaims in delight. I can’t help but worry about the fate I’ve unwittingly given the savage-looking pair of fighters.

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