Melody couldn't prevent a smile from spreading her lips at the barbarian's gesture to the little girl, instructing her to hide her eyes as he prepared to bare his all to his captor. She couldn't help but wonder whether he did so because he was [i]lacking[/i] and feared the girl might point and giggle ... or was hung like a stallion, which would haunt the girl once she'd reached womanhood, leaving her wondering why her future husband was instead the one who was lacking.

In truth, once the new slave had shed his minimal amount of remaining clothing and was standing before her naked, Melody found herself fairly impressed. She mused, "Your father should be proud to have passed on such a mighty sword."

The man was conspicuously diverting his eyes from Melody. She understood this, of course; he could hate her for what she and her warriors had done to his village and people all he wanted, but [i]nature[/i] would not prevent his body from [i]reacting[/i] if he was to look upon her as she was.

Melody gestured to one of the slaves to bring her a robe. Before the girl reached her, though, Melody was already rising from the tub; a rivulet of water streamed down her body, washing downward over her womanly curves. Would the barbarian slave lift his eyes to take in the sight? Would he see that -- like the women of the Noble Class -- Melody's body was free of hairs below her neck, carefully shaved from her flesh by the girl now delivering the robe? Would he catch sight of the Snake Dragon tattoo -- the Holy Symbol of the Faithful of Tella-Un -- that began as a thrice forked tail just above her right ankle, encircled that leg twice as it climbed upwards, then cut across her belly to wrap around her torso and finally cease as a magnificently detailed and somewhat frightening, fang-bearing head just below her sternum?

She wouldn't know whether or not Kengetar glanced at her as she herself had turned her attention to the slave girl giving her a hand out of the tub. They worked to drape the silk gown over her still wet body, then tie it at the waist. When she turned back to the man, the thin cloth did very little to hide the shape of her bosom. 

"Kapiten Broon," she said as she eyed the naked slave from head to foot and back up again. When the man acknowledged her, Melody gestured him to pull the knife from his hostage's throat. The little girl opened one eye, then the other; she glanced toward the man standing naked in the middle of the tent but then turned her attention firmly to the woman in the colorful and -- because of her wet skin -- body-clinging gown. Melody said in a tender voice, "Come to me sweetheart.  It's okay, no one is going to hurt you."

Broon's expression conspicuously relayed to Melody his discomfort with releasing hold of his insurance that the barbarian wasn't going to do anything ... [i]rash.[/i] But Melody gestured the knife from the girl's neck, took up the platter of food, and moved closer to the pair. She leaned in, held the platter of treats out, and asked, "Are you hungry, sweetheart? It's okay. You can take one. You are not in trouble ... and no one is going to hurt you. I promise."

The girl was hesitant but finally reached out to take a chunk of cheese. She didn't immediately put it into her mouth, but when she finally did her face lit up with delight. Melody explained, "They call it [i]Djathë i ëmbël[/i] ... [i]sweet[/i] cheese. Would you like more?"

Again hesitant, the girl nodded and reached out -- this time with both hands -- to snatch up four or five pieces in each eager set of fingers. Melody laughed, warning her, "Don't put so many into your mouth that you choke, sweetheart."

The girl stuffed two more pieces into her chomping mouth, glanced toward her Tribesman, then back to Melody. The Lady of Clan Yalla reassured her, "Nothing is going to happen to him either, sweetheart. He has something of great value that makes him important to me ... just like you do.  Do you know what it is that you have that makes you important to me?" 

The little girl shook her head, and Melody rose to height again. She handed the platter to her Tent Slave, then walked over to stand before the Sedent male, easily within his reach, easy pickings if he were to decide to reach out, grasp her by the neck, and snap it with what Melody could see were strong, capable hands.

"Leverage," she said, looking into the man's eyes. She looked to the girl again, asking with a sweet voice, "Do you know what leverage it, sweetheart?" Again the girl shook her head; her lower jaw was moving up and down as she chomped on yet another piece of cheese. Melody looked back to her new slave again, explaining, "It's something I have that assures me that your friend here will do as I ask."

She hesitated a moment, then in a soft voice meant just for him, Melody said in a reassuring voice, "All of your people ... the [i]survivors[/i] I mean ... they will be well cared for ... feed well ... giving shelter ... protected from harm.  Your men will not be executed simply because they are men. Your women will not be raped simply because they are women. I can make you this promise because my men are faithful to me and will do as I say, without question."

Melody backed just a bit, let her eyes fall to take in the Sedent's manhood again, then began an unhurried walk around him as she continued: "We are traveling to the Capital City--" She meant the Capital of Yalla, of course, and didn't feel a need to actually explain that. "--where I would normally sell the lot of your people into slavery. Customarily, they would be sold to a multitude of buyers who would then take them to far distant lands. Your tribe would be no more. It would cease to exist. An abandoned campfire; ashes and smoke into the wind."

Behind the man now, Melody took in the view of his muscular and equally scarred backside as well. The barbarian had seen a great deal of violence in his life, as had she. [i]Perhaps I will have a chance to hear your stories...?[/i] She continued her slow stroll: "However ... I will make you a promise. Serve me without question ... show me loyalty ... let this little ... [i]unfortunate incident[/i] that has happened between our peoples here today be forgotten ... and I will keep your people together. Your tribe will be preserved."

By now she was once again in front of the barbarian, once again vulnerable to his attack should he choose to make it.  She looked him in the eyes, then looked to the little girl. Smiling sweetly, Melody told the slave, "Take food to the Sedents. Let them eat and drink. Do not be stingy. Feed them until their bellies are full." To Broon she said, "Have the Brown Tent erected and move the Sedents to it for shelter. Find them blankets and let them build a fire."

"I'll put a man on it, m'lady," the Captain said, looking to the door and preparing to call for a guard.

But Melody cut him off, saying, "[i]You[/i] do it, Kapiten." Broon gave Melody a concerned look, but she waved him off, looking back to the new slave again as she said, "I think I'm safe here, Kapiten.  At least ... for the moment.  I don't think our new friend is in a hurry to kill me.  I think he might want to eat and drink first. [i]Then[/i] he can break my neck or cut out my entrails."

Broon wasn't eager to leave his Lady alone with the barbarian, but he knew better than to disobey her. Reluctantly, he gestured the little girl and -- after Melody asked to be left alone -- the Tent Slaves to follow him. A moment later, there were only the two of them left. Melody stepped back, putting some space between them, make a conspicuous sniffing sound as she looked at his body, and smiled.

"You should bathe," she said softly, not meaning to imply that he stunk to high heaven or anything like that. Melody swept a hand toward the bathtub, saying, "If you don't mind that I used it before you..."

She didn't know what he might do now that they were alone: would he take the sure opportunity to snap her neck like a twig; would he grasp her and take her hostage, as she and her warriors had his people; would he bend her over her clothing trunk and rape her to death as was done to so many female hostages following bloody battles; or -- as Melody hoped -- would he take the opportunity to slip into the tub of still-warm water and shed his flesh and hair of the blood, dirt, and grime?