The sun had barely begun to shine over the crest of the Stormborn stronghold, but already the clouds diffused the light sufficiently that it seemed as bright as full day. It was a time when many of the thralls in the pride, particularly those who were owned personally by some freeborn, made their way up the slippery and rock-strewn path to the ice melts to chip away bits of ice to carry back to their masters so that they could drink cold water first thing in the morning.Not all freeborn required their thralls to make this trek, but enough did that the path to the ice melts was worn into the ground. It was slippery all the time though. In the afternoon and evening it was slippery because the runoff from melting ice turned the ground to mud. Overnight the mud froze and by morning it was slippery with frozen mud and watery runoff until it had been walked over by enough Stormborn to melt it back into mud.
Two of the thralls making the trek were a lioness who had become a mother unexpectedly and a hyena who had wronged her mistress for which she was cast aside and later claimed by a very unusual trio of brothers. Each one of them felt that they had done nothing to deserve their fate, but they had more or less resigned themselves to the idea that this would be their life for the foreseeable future. That did not mean that they were bound to be pleasant, however, and the likelihood that either one would have much sympathy for the plight of the other was so small as to be nonexistent.
"Why don't you move out of the way you great heifer?" Grovarbetare demanded of the lioness, who had always had a predilection toward being heavy.
Grovarbetare had once had another name, but it had been taken from her when she was captured by the former warlord of the pride. It was a source of pride for her that she had been captured by a mighty lion, and an even greater source of pleasure that he had been cast down low, along with his daughter, who had beaten Grovar within an inch of her life before disowning her and making it known she no longer cared what happened to the hyena. This was after her hateful father had taken Grovar's cubs from her and given them away to be raised as slaves.
"For the thrall of a trio of perverts? Not likely!" Kvinna replied with a decidedly rude snort.
Like Grovar, she had once had another name but the lion who had captured her had given her a new one. She resented that, but she resented even more that two of her cubs would grow up as thralls, barely remembering any other life, and that she would never know what became of the rest of her litter. She had not been thrilled to find herself pregnant since she had not even wanted to have sex with the lion who had impregnated her, but that did not mean she did not care about her cubs' fates. At least with Voldemaras for a master, she knew that she and her cubs were safe. He was a respected lion in the pride, unlike the brothers who owned the hyena.
"You really think they're any less perverted than whatever lion owns your fat a**?" was Grovar's retort. "All the exalted reavers in this pride are rapists and worse. The only difference is that they do it outside the borders and my owners do it in the comfort of their own den."
Grovar scowled as she spoke, but it was mostly at herself. She could not believe she was defending her masters. They weren't bad masters, it was true, but some of the things she had witness in their service horrified her, and the way they treated females sickened her. Even if they were just female lions. And, of course, there was the cleaning, which she despised. No one wanted to have the job of cleaning the items the brothers used with their so-called subs, but as the only thrall in the den, it fell to her, unless a sub was being punished for something.
Kvinna did not even dignify the hyena's jibe with a response. For one thing, she could not think of one that would not force her to defend the behavior of her master on vikings, which she was certain was reprehensible. For another, a thrall's place in the pride was based somewhat on the respect their master garnered, as well as on their species and skills. She and the hyena were nowhere near the same level, and she had no reason to pay her any attention. She just hated to be reminded that she was overweight.
"It's no good putting on airs, lardbutt," Grovar pointed out. "You're as much a slave as I am. Your next litter will be sired by a rapist, even if you're consenting, and your cubs will probably be raped or killed, or both, before they're grown."
As a matter of fact, Grovar did not know if Kvinna had cubs or not, but she figured it was a safe assumption that a female thrall in this pride would sooner or later find herself pregnant. It was something she was relieved not to have to worry about, actually. There were almost no hyenas in the pride, and she had made it clear from the beginning that if she chose to take one of them, it would be in a time and manner of her choosing. She grinned nastily at the lioness, who seemed irritatingly unbothered by the future Grovar had mapped out.
Kvinna reached the run-off spot she had been walking toward and tried not to listen to the hyena, because she had been afraid of what the hyena described since she was captured. Instead she set down her gourd bowl and begun to scrape ice into it. The ice would be easier to carry down and it could melt along the way. As she scraped she watched the hyena follow her, no doubt hoping to spew more poison that would twist Kvinna's stomach for days to come.
As soon as the hyena was close enough, Kvinna shifted her weight abruptly so that she could send Grovar rolling down the muddy path. Surrounding thralls who had overheard their conversation laughed at the hyena getting her comeuppance and walked apace with Kvinna as she descended so that there would be no opportunity for Grovar to retaliate.
And Grovar did intend to retaliate, just as soon as she got her chance. But first she had to bring water back to the den and then get clean. Maybe she would find out if the lioness really did have cubs and arrange for something nasty to happen to them. That might just about make up for this indignity.
Word Count: 1,155
