Page 1 of The Barbarian's Claim
One
MATTHEW
Ialways thought only certain people could have things like love and happiness. People with money or connections. Beauty or strength. Never someone like me. I’d learned to accept that. I did my best with what I had and tried to take joy in the little things, but every time I felt like I could be happy, my life only got worse. So when I heard the town asking for volunteers for tributes for the barbarian clans, I thought maybe if I did something good for someone else, I’d at least get the chance to have something better in my next life.
The barbarian clans came to town every year, just before the turn of the season. I’d heard rumors that they’d taken a male tribute the year prior. I wasn’t sure if it was just a one-time thing or not, but when I volunteered, the mayor of our town accepted without hesitation. He even put me in a room in his estate until the handover could be made. It was a servant’s room, and he only kept me there so I wouldn’t change my mind and run, but it was nice to have steady meals for a few days.
Townsfolk usually gathered to watch the handovers, many protesting and calling the barbarians foul names. Few showed up when it was my turn. I expected that. I didn’t have any family to protest, and I didn’t have friends. I stayed quiet and out of sight to survive. It was hard to make connections when you didn’t speak much.
“You are doing a great service to your town, Matthew. Do try not to ruin it,” the mayor said, sneering at me. He’d never liked me. It reflected poorly on the town that I lived there. Not that anyone ever offered to help me.
I didn’t answer him. It would do no good. He didn’t actually care what I had to say. He just wanted to get one last dig in. We watched in silence as the cloud of dust behind the group of barbarians grew larger as they approached. My stomach quivered with nerves as I stood there. I’d never left my town before. I wasn’t sure what was beyond our walls.
Maybe there was something better than here. Or maybe this was the worst decision of my life.
The mayor shoved me toward the gate before the barbarians had even fully arrived. Two guards forced me forward, stopping just inside the gate and shoving me again. I stumbled, managing to catch myself before I fell. They hadn’t tied my hands as they did for most tributes. I’d volunteered, after all. Usually, that wasn’t the case. It was a way to get rid of competition or punish a rival family in our town. I was pretty sure the mayor had been paid off a few times to choose certain women. I was an anomaly for volunteering.
The group of barbarians came to a stop a few yards away. The dust their giant horses had kicked up swallowed me for a moment, and I covered my mouth as I coughed, squeezing my eyes shut to protect them. When I could finally see, the barbarian in the middle had dismounted, and they stood silently watching me. Unease skittered along my skin. I wasn’t sure whatI was supposed to be doing. No one had told me if there was something I had to do.
“He volunteered to be a tribute!” the mayor shouted from inside the gate. “Take him and go! You aren’t welcome here!”
I looked over my shoulder, but I couldn’t see him in the gate's shadow. He normally accompanied the women out to meet the barbarians. Why hadn’t he done so this time? Was it just because he didn't care what happened to me?
“Boy,” the barbarian standing by his horse called to me. I turned back to face him but kept my gaze on the ground. I wasn’t sure what was allowed, but looking them in the eye felt dangerous.
He came closer, and I saw his boots in my line of vision. To my surprise, the touch to my chin was gentle, guiding my head up to look at him. His eyes scanned over my face, his brow furrowed.
“How old are you?”
I got that a lot. I couldn’t grow facial hair, and while I was of average height, my face often made people question my age.
“T-t-twenty,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. I grimaced at how shaky I sounded.
What was the age of adulthood in the barbarian clans? Was it possible they’d think I was too young and send me back? The mayor would be furious if they did. I wasn’t entirely sure he’d let me back in. And since the nearest town was at least two days on horseback, I’d most likely die. Why our town was so separated from everyone else, I wasn’t sure. Surrounded by dry grassland with very few copses of trees, there was no surviving the heat alone.
The barbarian studied me long enough to make me nervous. I bit back a whimper, squirming a little. A quick look at the other barbarians showed blank faces and silence. They were going to defer to this one’s decision. Please, please, please take me. Iknew the rumors. I knew it’d be bad, but I couldn’t stay. I had nowhere else to go.
With a grunt, the barbarian released me and took my elbow, leading me over to his horse. I had no time to gape at its massive size before I was plucked off my feet and put astride it. There was no saddle, only a belt around the belly of the animal that had a few things tied to it. I grabbed the mane on instinct to find my balance, hoping dearly that I wasn’t expected to ride this thing alone. I didn't know how to ride a normal-sized horse, much less a massive one like this.
The barbarian walked away to the gate, speaking through it. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, and I got distracted at one point when the barbarian next to me moved closer to hand me a heavy flask. I took a sip at his encouragement, surprised and happy to find cool water inside. The dust had gotten in my mouth a bit, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
By the time I handed it back to him, the other barbarian was headed back our way. He leaped onto the horse’s back with ease, settling behind me, and gently tugged the horse’s mane to get it to turn around.
I took one last look at the town I grew up in, the town where I had once been happy with my family. My heart ached a little to leave their resting places behind, but I knew they’d want me to go. They’d want me to find something better than what I had. There was no telling if the barbarians were it, but I had no future in the town. At least by leaving with them, I might survive the next year.
The barbarians,thankfully, didn’t expect me to ride horseback the entire way to their clan. They brought me to anencampment with a dozen other tributes and a few more barbarians watching over them. All the tributes had their hands bound, and most had tear-stained cheeks. I suddenly felt stupid for volunteering for something so many people tried to avoid. I was a fool.
“Sit,” the barbarian who rode with me urged, nudging me toward where the other tributes were huddled together. I wasn’t the only male, which was a pleasant surprise. There was one other who sat a little away from the women, a scowl on his face. I sat beside him, wrapping my arms around my knees. It had taken a while to get here from my town, so it was dark already, and the air was too cool for comfort. The nearby fire gave off some heat, but I’d need to get closer to actually feel warm.
The barbarians conversed in their language as they prepared a meal. It smelled nice, which was another surprise. I hadn’t expected good treatment. But they handed out bowls of dried meat and warm bread, and we all got plenty of water. Then we were moved onto a large carriage and provided blankets to stay warm. It was a little cramped for us all to lie down, but I didn’t mind so much. I could sleep sitting up easily, and I was used to uncomfortable sleep. I curled up in one corner, resting my head on my knees, and watched the shadows play along the covering of the carriage until my eyes grew heavy and I started dozing off.
I jerked awake at the sound of an indignant screech, looking around. No one had been taken from the carriage from what I could tell, but maybe I was wrong. Did they feed us so we’d relax around them before they hurt us?
The others sat up, looking worried as they listened to the shouting coming from outside. It was late, still dark, and whoever was speaking used the common tongue.
“Don’t touch me, asshole! I won’t stand for this! Take me back this instant!”
He then let out a string of expletives that made my ears burn. His language was colorful and very loud. No one was going to get any sleep with him yelling like that.
