Back in her chamber alone for two days and nights, Zaria could only anticipate  what Sharvur's next move would be to punish her. Although it was the dead of winter in those frozen climes, and a blizzard had struck the Payzryk tribe, covering the tented cities in snow, the king had ordered a party of fifty soldiers with five of his best generals to go out into the oblivion to try and locate the Amazons. It was rumored that he had offered a lifetime room in the palace for any man who brought back Aella to Sharvur for his revenge.

            For Zaria this was no relief from what she expected to soon be her next night in Sharvurs bed chamber, and with it the horrors of what the eager general Arpada had to offer her. The humiliation and disgust she had experienced at the king's commands and under the physical assault of his new weapon of torture, made Zaria want Sharvur dead more than at any other time in her tenure as his slave and princess. She was at  that point uncertain as to whether he had totally given up his belief in the power of her virginity—something he had wholeheartedly believed in until Aella's brutal assault upon his manhood. Whether he still believed in Zaria's apotropaic powers for his kingdom or not, she now feared the worst. This would certainly mean her next encounter with Arpada on the new makeshift bed below Sharvur's own. And this could only be a painfully brutal and even more humiliating demise for her.

            That next evening as Zaria lay on her bed, trying to imagine being safely in the arms of Tsudros, the guards allowed Branka in to see her fellow slave, however briefly.

            "They say you were raped by the one they call Sharvur's bull, Zaria. Is that true dear sister?"

            "No . . . I was not. Thankfully, he did not finish with me. Sharvur stopped him. . . just before."

            "Do you think that means he . . . still believes in you?"

            "I don't know what it means, Branka. Since the king has been so injured, he is not himself. No one can guess what he will do next. But I fear if I go back to his bedroom tonight  my virginity will be taken . . .harshly and for his own entertainment. And then he will have no other reason to keep me alive."

            "I too fear his wrath, Zaria. Perhaps as much as you. For once he finishes this cruel game with you, he will ask for me . . . each night to entertain him with . . .that monster whom they say has the equipment of a real bull."

            "Yes. He is big. But this is a pain we can endure, Branka. It is our lives I fear for now."

            "I have heard that Svetlana and Murka sleep together now . . . each night again. Even though she is with child." A slight smile came over her face.

            Zaria tried to smile as well. "Murka is a man cut from a different cloth, my sister. Svetlana will have a life both of us will envy. As long . . . or as short, as we shall live."

            "But I am happy for her," Branka beamed.

            "Perhaps you will find such a life yourself . . . with Moshtok, now that his sister has found a mate. And if you are able to . . ."

            "Escape?"

            "Yes. Escape."

            "Moshtok has already pledged he will help me with this freedom. And accompany me back to our people. He knows the language and he grew up there. As a boy. We had planned to run away in the spring. When the Stepp is passable and he can secretly arrange for two horses and suplies. But now, with Sharvur like this . . . I would gladly take my chances into the snow. Even tonight if it were possible to escape."

            Just then a guard came back into the room and both girls froze in fear. They  waited to hear the worst news which might involve either or both of them. The armed man just told Branka to go back to her chamber. And he had no further words for Zaria. 

                                                                   *     *     * 

            In Sharvur's quarters that early evening came his wise counselor, Krido. He had come to give his king both comfort and advice. The old man entered slowly, showing his limited mobility and wearing his red suit of clothing—a thick silk top and pants. He also had, on this occasion, a red pointed cap, tall with earflaps. It was an iconic look which the court and citadel of the Pazyryk had seen the old man wear for decades, but  only on important dates and in the midst of high drama or a threat to the kingdom.

            Krido carried his tall staff and strained to sit up on the edge of Sharvur's bed. He looked disapprovingly down at the makeshift mattress the king had installed for his own new and cathartic entertainment.

            "Sharvur, I have come to you tonight because of what I hear . . . and what I fear. And because I love our kingdom . . . as you do."

            The king did not smile or make any formal greeting of his old counselor. He only glared at him with a single-minded and distant expression.

            "I know you are not well from what has happened to you, my king. But I ask that you refrain from your actions as they are precipitous and dangerous to us all."

            "No, Krido. I will not rest until I feel justice here!" The king said this sitting up with obvious difficulty.

            "Sending our finest warriors out into this raging cold and with such impossible demands only shows you are not  . . . prudent in your thinking these days."

            "Those men are trained well! And they can achieve my orders. The sooner they succeed, the sooner they may return. . . to their warm tents and families."

            "This also leaves us at a greater risk to attack, Sharvur. Not something you would normally do."

            "I have calculated we have enough men and generals to put up a decent fight were we to find ourselves under siege in this weather," Sharvur said, convinced of his logic.

            "And what about the girl?" Do you no longer trust in her powers? I was informed you plan to  have her ravaged for your own entertainment. Here . . . in this room."

            Sharvur smiled strangely. "I have not decided about that just yet. I will have to see at the time. If I can resist the temptation to see her deflowered."

        The old counslor looked down again at the floor mattress.

        "Two nights ago. I was able to resist it. But I do not know about tonight or any other night. If  I will permit of my new weapon of destruction to do it's able deed. Perhaps there is no truth to her powers, Krido. Perhaps she is like any other slave which I have the right as king to molest at my will."

            "I am here to caution you, Sharvur. I see you dangerously out of the control you need to be in. To maintain our people and territories. You have been . . . unhinged by this terrible deed, but must somehow now return to your senses. For the sake of us all."

            "I will consider what you have said, old friend. Now leave me to my own ways. And if you hear my men bring back that warrior woman who stole from me my greatest joy, you will be appalled at what will befall her . . . right here in this chamber. It can be imagined only by a man of my sickness and great loss."

        Sharvur looked over to the corner of the room, at the covered bowl which he had ordered to be filled with ice each day.

            As was Krido's habit, the old man got up prepared to leave early. It was something he did when he no longer saw a reason to stay.

            "Just beware my king. Of all consequences. Something you used to be so skilled at."

            With that, the old man used his gnarled staff to slowly assist him across the room with a loud tapping toward to the exit. The shadow of his pointed hat proceeded him in the bright torch lights of Sharvur's chamber, and he did not look back once at the king, simmering sill in his disconsolate mood.

                                                                   *     *     *

            Later that night, as was Zaria's fear, she was summoned to the king's bedchamber once again. And as before Sharvur was waiting for her, sitting up painfully, but with great enthusiasm. It was what he anticipated to be another evening to give him some satisfaction and relief from his agony and destroyed pride.

            As the king clapped his hands loudly, Arpada, in all his robust glory, enetered into to room again. This time he was half dressed and obviously ready to remove both his own and the clothing of Zaria upon command.

            As Zaria stood at the foot of Sharvur's bed and waited for  the ordeal to begin, she feared it would go much farther on this night. But suddenly, there came the sound of slow footsteps and a wooden staff clicking across the floor. All three participants in the impending sexual performance quickly turned and watched as Krido once again entered into Sharvur's private world of pleasure.

           He seemed strangely out of breath and serious.

         "My king, I must stop your proceedings tonight. I have the gravest of news. Which I believe you will see . . . relates to this very act!"

            "What is this interruption, Krido! I have already spoken to you tonight! I need not see you further. Now be gone!

           No, my king. There is a terrible event emerging . . . as we speak. It began two days before on the evening of your first assault upon this vestal virgin and our protectoress. It apparently was a sacrilege to her power, as the city is experiencing a sickness. It is gripping all. Men womem and children. It is a fever, my king. Like no other we have ever seen! And it threatens to engulf us all. I can only advise that it has occurred. . . because of your lust and what you do here with Zaria. It is truly against the wellbeing of our own people!."

            Arpada and Zaria were frozen with awe at what the old man had announced. Both immediately moved away from each other. The king was silent and deep in thought.

            "I am sorry, Sharvur, but this outbreak of disease is rapidly spreading. I see clearly that you and your evil is the cause of it. I implore you, my king, to cease with anymore of this defilemen. You must leave our princess alone and let her be chaste . . . as was always advised of you!"

            Without waiting further, the old man reached out with a wrinkled hand  for Zaria to join him in exiting the chamber. This she did, leaving a confused and demented Sharvur seated upright and astonished in his bed. Next to him was the once eager and aroused Arpada, now cooling down at the edge of the mattress.

        Under a type of hierarchical coup, instigated by wisdom and self-preservation of the realm, the old man in his red silk apparel led Zaria, once again as princess, back to her roomy chamber. There he told the guards, instead of preventing her leaving, to protect her from the king at all costs. 

                                                                 *     *     *