Private Tales Out of the Frying Pan

[Valeraine]

Valeraine was really getting tired of this. She had no idea how many of these rookies they’d sent after her, she’d lost count, and it was a real annoyance, an insult almost. She’d killed lesser kings in public and was never caught, so the fact that they thought newbies could take her down was an insult, and an unfamiliar, almost painful burning sensation ignited in her chest every time she spied more, inexperienced pursuers. What was this feeling, she’d heard the word used and understood the general causes but she’d never felt it in her memory, what was it? Frustration? Anger?

She sprinted tirelessly across the grassy hills of the Steppe. Her footfalls were repetitive, rhythmic, fast and only slightly audible thanks to her practice in remaining quiet while moving fast. It was time to teach these rookies a thing or two. So she took up a nice hiding place, in the grasses she was able to make herself look like the ground, making sure that the grass wrapped around her to cover her up entirely whilst she waited.

The first one came over the hill, quiet and to the untrained eye invisible, they might be rookies, but they were trained from infancy, so they were skilled assassins in their own right. Not as skilled as one with experience though, and it is because of this that this first assassin didn’t see her until it was too late, her long-bladed dagger buried up to the hilt in his side, piercing both lungs and his heart, the assassin soundlessly fell dead.

But that’s where her element of surprise disappeared. An arrow lodged itself in her thigh, making her grunt and stumble on the pained leg. A second attacker emerged from the side of another nearby hill, carrying a short, very short saber. She caught the bade on the crossguard of her dagger, and rammed her fist into the attacker’s chest, who planted his left foot behind him to prevent staggering, only to let her strike his throat. Even that wasn’t enough though. She had to gut him with his own saber before she could turn her attention on the archer, sheathing her dagger and taking out a more specialized knife, she let it fly, which buried itself in the archer’s hand.

The bow was dropped and the archer ran at her, a female this time. A dagger was drawn and another fight ensued. This time she took a cut across her upper arm and down across the hip before finally killing her opponent. No more enemies to deal with, but she definitely wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon. So she settled for a slow shamble.

She could just make out the shape of a man on a horse a ways to her left. But the Family's assassins didn't fight on horseback, so she wasn't worried about it. However this horseman would see her collapse after she made it about a hundred feet. She was bleeding out and the arrow in her thigh did a lot more damage than she'd thought it had.

Ablen

 

[Ablen]

The Horselord had been watching for an indeterminate amount of time. At a distance he had seen most of the bloodshed play out but remained indifferent to it.

Ablen, like many Attilans of the Steppe was not adverse to taking his horse and wandering. It gave him a sense of the territory his people claimed, ensured that the other tribes respected the boundaries between territories and occasionally permitted him to indulge in some amount of sport.

Once the fighting had concluded and with the reins of his horse gripped in his left hand he began riding towards the lone survivor. At a distance, even with eyes narrowed and his focus trained on the silhouette he could not tell if it was a woman of man. Not that it mattered to him. As he rode forward the paramount thought to cross his mind was if he would kill this unknown person. To him they were an intruder. On the Steppe there was no such thing as just passing through, etc.

Seeing Valeraine collapse didn't seem to instill a sense of urgency in Ablen who continued to ride towards her after she lay prone on the ground.

When his silhouette and that of his horse cast a shadow down over her she might have been able to get a better look at the man. He was dressed in attire fit for riding, his features worn from a barrage of earth and wind over the years. A Bow was fitted to the right of his saddle, a quiver of arrows accompanying it. On his left hip, sheathed was a lengthy blade with a slight curve to it.

Looking down at her from where he sat atop his mount and with a certain blase demeanor about him Ablen would eventually lean forward in his saddle, noting the arrow in her thigh as well as the clothing soaked in blood from her other wounds before remarking....

"An arrow to the thigh. Better than one to the hip."

...he spoke as though he had some experience in these matters and making a quick assessment after his initial comment he'd soon add...

"You're going to die. Blood loss if you're lucky but even with your wounds I've seen men pass in and out of unconsciousness for days. If not the loss of blood then some animal, out here on the Steppe will find you and devour you."

...the Horselord would straighten upright in his saddle then, his gaze shifting out over the horizon where the Steppe seemed to stretch onwards for an eternity. He could help her, bind her wounds to stem the loss of blood and he may have even been debating just that which likely prompted him saying...

"You're not a terrible fighter at least."

 

[Valeraine]

When his silhouette and that of his horse cast a shadow down over her she might have been able to get a better look at the man. He was dressed in attire fit for riding, his features worn from a barrage of earth and wind over the years. A Bow was fitted to the right of his saddle, a quiver of arrows accompanying it. On his left hip, sheathed was a lengthy blade with a slight curve to it.

Looking down at her from where he sat atop his mount and with a certain blase demeanor about him Ablen would eventually lean forward in his saddle, noting the arrow in her thigh as well as the clothing soaked in blood from her other wounds before remarking....

She heard the sound of hooves on dirt, she needed to do something about that. Luckily for her, the horseman didn't seem to be in any hurry, which gave her time, not a lot, but time. She got onto her back and sat up as best she could without exposing herself to her pursuer. She clenched her jaw and wrenched the arrow out. The bleeding started soon after. That would be fixed by clotting, an arrow wound wasn't that big, it was deep, but big, and lucky for me scabs formed quickly.

You got there just as I was trying to get up. And I met your gaze evenly, I wasn't afraid of you, the worst thing you could do was kill me, which isn't something I feared.

"An arrow to the thigh. Better than one to the hip."

...he spoke as though he had some experience in these matters and making a quick assessment after his initial comment he'd soon add...

"You're going to die. Blood loss if you're lucky but even with your wounds I've seen men pass in and out of unconsciousness for days. If not the loss of blood then some animal, out here on the Steppe will find you and devour you."

...the Horselord would straighten upright in his saddle then, his gaze shifting out over the horizon where the Steppe seemed to stretch onwards for an eternity. He could help her, bind her wounds to stem the loss of blood and he may have even been debating just that which likely prompted him saying...

"You're not a terrible fighter at least."

"Don't waste time talking." She said simply. "Do what you intend to do. If you intend to kill me, kill me, if you intend to leave me, leave me. Just be done with it."

She clearly wasn't expecting help from this man, she knew that the Steppe tribes were territorial, so most likely she was trespassing, which made her their enemy. So he would either kill her here or leave her to die. At least that was her prediction.

 

[Ablen]

"Why waste an arrow or dirty my blade when the Steppe will kill you all the same."

...clearly he knew she would die if he left her here and Ablen was not a charitable man however he recognized opportunity when it presented itself. Certainly this woman could be useful to him in one way or another, he had seen her fight her attackers from a distance and while she lacked the finesse of other, more experienced combatants she was skilled nonetheless. Yes, he believed he did have a use for her...

"In time you will learn not to tell me my business."

...the comment was without explanation as the Horselord dismounted his steed by throwing his left leg back over his saddle so that he could drop down to the right of the horse. On the ground Ablen came around to face Valeraine before stalking towards her, he was a menacing man and his appearance projected as much. When he came closer to her he'd have remarked...

"Lay back."

...while lifting his right leg in concordance with his direction and thrusting his foot out towards her. His intent being to plant his foot into her chest an knock her onto her back, she might catch it but he thought in her current state that was unlikely. This served as a way for Ablen to show her that he was strong as well, on the Steppe everything was ruled by strength and this was evident in the Attilan culture too.

If there was nothing to impede him Ablen took a knee then, ripping some cloth free from his person so that he could use it to bind the wound on her thigh first. The Bandage would be drawn around the meaty part of her leg then drawn tight so that pressure was applied the stem of blood and he would move on to her other wounds, binding them if required. He was no physician but the man could clearly perform basic first aid either on himself or those willing to allow him to work on them. In this case it would probably be enuogh to keep Valeraine alive and stop the blood loss.

 

[Valeraine]

"In time you will learn not to tell me my business."

...the comment was without explanation as the Horselord dismounted his steed by throwing his left leg back over his saddle so that he could drop down to the right of the horse. On the ground Ablen came around to face Valeraine before stalking towards her, he was a menacing man and his appearance projected as much. When he came closer to her he'd have remarked...

"Lay back."

...while lifting his right leg in concordance with his direction and thrusting his foot out towards her. His intent being to plant his foot into her chest an knock her onto her back, she might catch it but he thought in her current state that was unlikely. This served as a way for Ablen to show her that he was strong as well, on the Steppe everything was ruled by strength and this was evident in the Attilan culture too.

She expected him to simply ride off and leave her to die. But he dismounted. She didn't bother moving, she'd face her end with dignity at the very least. But it wasn't her end, he planted a foot in her chest and shoved her down, she already being pretty on-the-ground made this a far less difficult task than it normally would be. She contemplated bringing him down with her in a leglock but her thigh was too injured for that and she needed both legs to do a proper leglock, so she simply let it happen.

He was strong sure, she only needed to look at him to tell that that's the case. But quite frankly, she could see quite clearly that he didn't take her very seriously, which would be a fatal mistake to make.

If there was nothing to impede him Ablen took a knee then, ripping some cloth free from his person so that he could use it to bind the wound on her thigh first. The Bandage would be drawn around the meaty part of her leg then drawn tight so that pressure was applied the stem of blood and he would move on to her other wounds, binding them if required. He was no physician but the man could clearly perform basic first aid either on himself or those willing to allow him to work on them. In this case it would probably be enuogh to keep Valeraine alive and stop the blood loss.

She cocked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. She doubted it was out of the kindness of his heart.

 

[Ablen]

Once he'd finished binding her wounds he'd lay an arm across his thigh while kneeling to one side of her. Assessing her thigh momentarily it appeared as though he was satisfied it would stem the bloodflow and assist the clotting process. When the was done he rose back his full stature, looking at her through narrowed eyes...

"You'll not bleed out anyways though death is still possible."

...there were plenty of dangers on the Steppe that could still see her through to that fate. Animals, Orcs, other Attilans and the possibilities went on. Turning away from her he'd move back to his horse and reaching for the horn of his saddle he'd pull himself back up onto it, swinging his leg over the back before he sat comfortable atop the soft leather. Setting his right hand on his hip he took the reins in his left, his gaze dividing itself between the endless expanse stretching out all around them and Valeraine before he stated...

"Your life is mine now Outsider."

...there was a smugness in his statement, slavery held an interesting place in his culture though it varied from tribe to tribe...

"Until you repay your debt to me at least."

...Ablen, as she surmised had not saved her for nothing. He had considered, after observing her prowess in combat that she might serve a purpose that would benefit him and his people. Time would tell if he was correct or not...

"You travel on foot until you've earned a horse. Unless you prefer to lay in the grass until death finds you."

...accordingly strength played an important role amongst his people, he had bound her wounds and ensured she could limp onwards if nothing else. If she chose to follow him and live the Horselord was generous enough to walk his mount at a leisurely pace so that she wouldn't be left behind.

 

[Valeraine]

"Your life is mine now Outsider."

...there was a smugness in his statement, slavery held an interesting place in his culture though it varied from tribe to tribe...

"Until you repay your debt to me at least."

"If that is the case, than contrary to what you may think, it is much safer for you and your tribe if I left." She said simply. She'd expected there to be a catch to being bandaged. Despite not having asked him to. "The people I killed over there, they were simple amateurs, before long they will be sending more for me. And your tribe may be capable of fighting, but they are not an enemy you want to underestimate. Unless you want a pack of wolves at your doorstep, you aught to either kill me or send me off."

The prospect of slavery wasn't as abhorrent to her as it was to some. It was a living arrangement, little more. She more or less expected to be put in a collar or something similar once they got back, as that was frequently how slaves were marked if they weren't branded.

"You travel on foot until you've earned a horse. Unless you prefer to lay in the grass until death finds you."

...accordingly strength played an important role amongst his people, he had bound her wounds and ensured she could limp onwards if nothing else. If she chose to follow him and live the Horselord was generous enough to walk his mount at a leisurely pace so that she wouldn't be left behind.

"You have a lot of trust in someone you've just labeled as yours. Are you not worried that I'd somehow survive if I choose to stay, or simply not follow you on my own?"

 

[Ablen]

Tightening the grip on his reins Ablen brought his mount to a halt at which point he would turn to look back over his right shoulder at Valeraine. There was something in his gaze then, a predatory mien that spoke of a knowing confidence. It may have been mistaken for arrogance by any onlooker as the Horselord replied...

"My tribe is over a thousand strong. The Steppe boasts over a hundred thousand bows pledged to different tribes and territories. Your pursuers are dogs and the wolves of the steppe would devour them."

...there was no hint of deception in his voice. The Tribes of the Steppe were numerous and the majority treated outsiders the same way. If whomever was pursuing her could find her here and then infiltrate whatever encampment she resided in they likely deserved to be allowed to kill her.

Of course Ablen did not mention it would also be a great blemish on the Attilans if someone in their custody were to be slain in their camp.

As for her other inquiry the Horselord merely snorted...

"You are within Attilan territory. If you do not follow me and the animals do not rip you apart tomorrow twenty men will ride you down, litter you with arrows and rape what is left while you are still warm."

...a brutal act to be sure however the Attilans, if she knew anything of the tribe were also renowned for their brutality often making such displays that other tribes feared entering their territory even by mistake.

Turning his gaze forward again Ablen reached out with his right hand, running it across the the neck of his horse before his mount started forward again at a leisurely pace.

 

[Valeraine]

Tightening the grip on his reins Ablen brought his mount to a halt at which point he would turn to look back over his right shoulder at Valeraine. There was something in his gaze then, a predatory mien that spoke of a knowing confidence. It may have been mistaken for arrogance by any onlooker as the Horselord replied...

"My tribe is over a thousand strong. The Steppe boasts over a hundred thousand bows pledged to different tribes and territories. Your pursuers are dogs and the wolves of the steppe would devour them."

"They do not fear numbers." She says in response, "It means nothing to them."

Frankly if you chose to underestimate people trained for the sole purpose of killing from infancy, that was your business. Frankly I had no intention of telling you exactly how dangerous they were, for one it likely wouldn't faze you, and for two, it could be perceived as a threat, which likely wouldn't do well. It would, as of right now at least, be best if I played the vanquished role, and bided my time.

As for her other inquiry the Horselord merely snorted...

"You are within Attilan territory. If you do not follow me and the animals do not rip you apart tomorrow twenty men will ride you down, litter you with arrows and rape what is left while you are still warm."

...a brutal act to be sure however the Attilans, if she knew anything of the tribe were also renowned for their brutality often making such displays that other tribes feared entering their territory even by mistake.

Turning his gaze forward again Ablen reached out with his right hand, running it across the the neck of his horse before his mount started forward again at a leisurely pace.

This managed to bring an amused smile to her face, then draw an evil cackle from her lips. "They sound like people I could get along with. Assuming they'd be able to find me that is. One doesn't kill from the shade if they cannot remain unseen."

Even so she saw no better alternative, she was injured after all, and she'd stand a much better chance of getting away successfully after her injuries had healed. So it was best for her to bide her time. She walked behind him, and despite the injury, displayed only the slightest of limps, barely noticeable.

 

[Ablen]

Ablen maintained an amount of indifference towards these enemies that were pursuing her. If she did not serve his purpose perhaps he would even decide to hand her over to them; it meant nothing to him. Only after hearing her cackle and listening to her reply did the Horselord actually laugh loudly and from his belly...

"If these -amateurs- could find you then remaining unseen doesn't appear to be a talent of yours."

...hopefully that would change because what the Horselord had in mind for her might require some degree of stealth if she intended to live through it. Ultimately time would tell.

The Horselord rode onwards without sparing her much more thought then. With senses attuned to his native surroundings he would know if she tried to run though it remained uncertain if he would do anything about it considering what he had told her about what she could expect to happen.

---

Their Trek would take several hours forgoing any unforeseen obstacles.

Ascending over a hilltop rise would reveal countless huts. These Yurts were the ancestral homes of the Attilans and other tribes of the Steppe. Arranged in a circle the yurts spread out for kilometers. Flags rose near the center of the congregation of buildings.

Riders were seen maneuvering around the enormous encampment, groups sojourning out on patrol and returning. There were children as well though accordingly the Attilans trained their youth from a young age to ride, hunt and fight. By the time an Attilan reached adulthood they were experts of their trade.

The Horselord had come to a halt atop the rise of the hill. He looked over at Valeraine...

"How long will it take your wounds to heal? By your own estimation."

...he assumed a little over a week for the arrow wound, the healing time for cuts would be variable dependent on the damage that had been done. It seemed likely that Ablen had something in mind.

 

[Valeraine]

"If these -amateurs- could find you then remaining unseen doesn't appear to be a talent of yours."

He really had no idea. It was kind of sad really. But there was nothing to be said, more might not arrive for a while yet, but when they did, he'd learn exactly how much of a threat even amatures from the Family were. So she simply rolled her eyes while she followed behind him.

"How long will it take your wounds to heal? By your own estimation."

...he assumed a little over a week for the arrow wound, the healing time for cuts would be variable dependent on the damage that had been done. It seemed likely that Ablen had something in mind.

His estimation was accurate, "I'd say it will be about a week, two weeks at most. I've always healed fairly quickly." She glanced up at him. She wondered exactly what she'd be doing while she was still healing. Unless he intended to make it harder by giving her the full load right off the bat. It wouldn't be that much of a problem, but it would be a tad annoying to be sure.

 

[Ablen]

Nodding once he'd heard her own estimation it could be assumed he was pleased he had been correct in his assumptions; he'd been wounded enough in battle and seen enough of those who had likewise been wounded on the mend to be able to gauge healing times with some efficiency...

"Good. Until then you haul water with the children and beat out rugs with the elderly."

...Valeraine would not be alone if she initially thought he had put her on light duties however many who were instructed to haul water didn't grasp the full scope of their task. This encampment was over a thousand strong which meant at least that many horses. Those corralled would need water hauled from the stream on the north west of the camp which could be an arduous task for someone not familiar with it. After that there was also the matter of the multitude of cook pots that would need to be filled. Duties such as these often took up an entire day initially until the practitioner started to learn the shortcuts to make their job easier.

Whether or not she would learn any such shortcuts would be seen the Horselord imaged. It hardly mattered to him though.

Gripping the reins of his mount Ablen would begin to ride down the sloping hillside closer to the camp. By now several of the Outriders had noticed them and would have also approached on horseback. If Valeraine strayed to far behind Ablen then the riders would encircle her, riding around her and taunting her from atop their mounts before breaking off.

Worth noting that among the Attilan women were counted among their Outriders and Warriors as well. As a tribe the Attilan were not strictly patriarchal though in many cases men did rise to leadership roles it was not unheard of for a woman to ascend as well if she possessed the mettle.

Riding into the camp the Horselord would lead her through several semi circle rows of Yurts. Each circle of Yurts designated the importance of the people residing in them with the outer circle being composed of the lowest rank and a single Yurt at the center of the camp acting as the home of the leader. Ablen resided in the circle second from the center as an Oru or the Captain of a Hundred.

On the way to his Yurt they would pass many others, cook pots would be steeped high with food and worked by various individuals from other cultures. Most of them were slaves. As they came to the exterior of his Yurt a boy would come up to take Ablen's horse; the Horselord would hand him the reins before dismounting then turn towards Valeraine as his mount was lead off...

"Many in this camp serve as slaves. I have several myself."

...the way said this insinuated a certain amount of disdain for his servants and he was quick to add...

"I do not require more which is why once you have healed fully I will have you pay the debt that you owe me."

 

[Valeraine]

Nodding once he'd heard her own estimation it could be assumed he was pleased he had been correct in his assumptions; he'd been wounded enough in battle and seen enough of those who had likewise been wounded on the mend to be able to gauge healing times with some efficiency...

"Good. Until then you haul water with the children and beat out rugs with the elderly."

If children, barbarian children no less, could do such a task, it wouldn't be any issue for her, even while injured. It's not as though someone with her upbringing was physically incapable. So she'd handle such tasks without difficulty.

Then once she's healed up, commit a few subtle murders, make runaway slaves lowest priority, then get out.

"Many in this camp serve as slaves. I have several myself."

...the way said this insinuated a certain amount of disdain for his servants and he was quick to add...

"I do not require more which is why once you have healed fully I will have you pay the debt that you owe me."

"And what exactly will that entail? Am I simply to work in your home for a while, or do you have something else in mind?" She asked him. Maybe she wouldn't have to go with the serial killer plan, despite how familiar such an undertaking felt, she'd been doing that sort of thing since she was six, so it was the option she knew best how to go with.

But if she simply saved his life or something like that she'd be free to go. That sounded much simpler.

 

[Ablen]

There was a thin smirk playing over the corners of his mouth when she asked him what paying her debt to him entailed. Certainly she must have ideas but Ablen did not intend for Valeraine to be some menial laborer until he felt that the two of them were square. If he ignored the talents she had, such as being a capable combatant than he would be to blame for that.

Instead of answering outright he'd turn away from her and move towards the entrance of his Yurt. Tanned animal hides that were stitched together served as a doorway were thrown wide and he would duck his head as he entered. The Interior was lit as well, the Yurts had a particular dome appearance and many were outfitted with an open top to let in the light weather permitting. Inside there was some shade but not enough to hide in.

Prowling across the large chamber which could likely house as many as thirty men standing several meters apart Ablen would sit himself on one side of a low table amidst several cushions that were laid out for the comfort. A Pitcher was laid out on the low table alongside several cups. After he'd seated himself a girl appeared. She was thin, tanned from the sun and barely clothed. Pouring Ablen a drink he would take it from her, quench his thirst on the contents and then speak from over the rim of the vessel while the serving girl melted away...

"It is simple really. I would have you kill my chieftain."

...what Ablen said was not so treacherous in Attilan culture, he was oathbound to the leader of his tribe but she was not. If she killed his leader at his behest then Ablen would have committed no great sin or breach of their strange honor...

"As an Outsider such a transgression would not be beyond you. If you are as skilled as you say then you stand a reasonable chance of success and can slip away during the commotion that follows with your debt paid."

...he lowered his cup then, watching her. These men who sought her life were of no concern to him nor was her ultimate fate; he had saved her so that she could become a tool of his and assist in his ascension.

 

[Valeraine]

"It is simple really. I would have you kill my chieftain."

...what Ablen said was not so treacherous in Attilan culture, he was oathbound to the leader of his tribe but she was not. If she killed his leader at his behest then Ablen would have committed no great sin or breach of their strange honor...

"As an Outsider such a transgression would not be beyond you. If you are as skilled as you say then you stand a reasonable chance of success and can slip away during the commotion that follows with your debt paid."

...he lowered his cup then, watching her. These men who sought her life were of no concern to him nor was her ultimate fate; he had saved her so that she could become a tool of his and assist in his ascension.

Well that was something else. But definitely something she could do. But it would take preparation, upper-class assassinations always did, she had to separate him from his guard, maybe alienate a couple of his close allies, make it look like an assassination attempt was already underway and see the false one stopped before committing the actual act, or maybe say that she was a gift from Ablen to the chief then kill him.

With that last one she'd need to look a little more promiscuous. She'd had experience assassinating men, none of them were able to completely resist a helpless but willing woman. So she might go with that option.

She said, "if all you wanted was someone to die, why didn't you say so to begin with?"

She folded her arms in thought, "you have yourself a contract. This chieftain will die."

 

[Ablen]

"No one else must die."

...the Horselord added after she had crossed her arms and informed him that she would accept his contract. The Chieftain's death was to allow Ablen to ascend in status amongst his tribe however further death or alienation of others would not serve his purpose and he explained...

"We are Attilan, it is expected that all Oru will at some point attempt to kill their chieftain or have him killed so that they can ascend. There is no dishonor in that. We do not deal in subversion though or the alienation of our peers. It would not serve my purpose if another was to be implicated in the death and could therefore claim the deed themselves."

...in a sense it was an extremely complex matter despite these being a tribal people. Valeraine could not simply make it appear as though another had a hand in the killing of the chieftain as they could allow them to challenge Ablen for the roll after the fact. When the dead was done either the blame would fall on her as she fled the encampment or it would need to be a complete mystery. She might wonder why Ablen did not simply kill the man himself if that would allow him to take control of the tribe but relationships among the Attilan were also complex; Ablen was bound by oath to his leader and so could not kill the man directly.

He finished his drink, raising his cup until it was empty then looked at Valeraine rather than call for the other slave to return. Holding the cup out to her he would have stated...

"Fill it."

...before indicating the pitcher that the previous slave had used on the table. If she was to be a slave in his household until she was strong enough to fulfill the contract and repay her debt to him she may as well begin now. For the moment she need only fill a cup as they were in conversation and he was explaining the true motivation behind saving her life on the Steppe however when they concluded Ablen would ensure another slave showed her where she would sleep and the rest of her duties, etc which had already been outlined to her.

 

[Valeraine]

"No one else must die."

Those five words brought a look of obvious disappointment to her face. She was tempted to ask, very very nicely, if she could at least kill one more person. But She didn't expect it to go anywhere, and so decided to save her breath.

"We are Attilan, it is expected that all Oru will at some point attempt to kill their chieftain or have him killed so that they can ascend. There is no dishonor in that. We do not deal in subversion though or the alienation of our peers. It would not serve my purpose if another was to be implicated in the death and could therefore claim the deed themselves."

...in a sense it was an extremely complex matter despite these being a tribal people. Valeraine could not simply make it appear as though another had a hand in the killing of the chieftain as they could allow them to challenge Ablen for the roll after the fact. When the dead was done either the blame would fall on her as she fled the encampment or it would need to be a complete mystery. She might wonder why Ablen did not simply kill the man himself if that would allow him to take control of the tribe but relationships among the Attilan were also complex; Ablen was bound by oath to his leader and so could not kill the man directly.

"Okay then. So shall I make it clear that you ordered the deed done? Or shall I make it a complete mystery?" She asked curiously. If one of his rivals claiming the deed was theirs lead to their ascension, would it not be beneficial to make it clear, but not definitively so, that it was in fact Ablen himself who ordered the deed done, maybe by getting caught in the act, and her being his slave make him responsible?

"Fill it."

...before indicating the pitcher that the previous slave had used on the table. If she was to be a slave in his household until she was strong enough to fulfill the contract and repay her debt to him she may as well begin now. For the moment she need only fill a cup as they were in conversation and he was explaining the true motivation behind saving her life on the Steppe however when they concluded Ablen would ensure another slave showed her where she would sleep and the rest of her duties, etc which had already been outlined to her.

She did so with a cocked eyebrow. "You're trusting a killer that you've essentially blackmailed into service to pour you a drink? I don't know whether to applaud your bravery or scold your stupidity."

 

[Ablen]

When Valeraine with cocked eyebrow remarked in his trust to permit a killer he had blackmailed into pouring him a drink the Horselord merely scoffed then smirked at her briefly before replying...

"Do you purpose you could kill me here and now simply because I have instructed you to pour a drink? How would you do it I wonder? Poison? Perhaps you think you could kill me with the pitcher you are pouring from?"

...Ablen raised his cup, swirling the contents slowly before taking raising it to his mouth and slowly taking a drink. If there was something off about it he would have noticed but there was nothing, obviously. In no small way he took some pleasure in taunting the woman about her skill which beyond a combat witnessed from afar was unproven to this point...

"If you can kill me in my own Yurt then you should do so as I would be deserving of death according to the customs of my culture. Of course as an Outsider you would not inherit my position amongst the tribe nor would you be able to alienate any of the other slaves in my service. Your death would be assured shortly after my own."

...he shrugged, enjoying the drink while continuing to sit comfortably across from her on the opposite side of the low table. Without allowing the conversation to sidetrack itself to far Ablen would retrace their conversation until he came to whether or not she should announce he had ordered the deed done or leave it a mystery...

"Your killing of the chieftain should remain inconclusive. Allow yourself to be caught in the aftermath if you like. As you will not be returning to my service following the task I can handle the rest."

...it seemed the Horselord was satisfied with how all of this would play out if Valeraine performed her task as intended. If, for some reason she was unsuccessful or could not perform the act then Ablen would not face any consequence for her failure.

 

[Valeraine]

When Valeraine with cocked eyebrow remarked in his trust to permit a killer he had blackmailed into pouring him a drink the Horselord merely scoffed then smirked at her briefly before replying...

"Do you purpose you could kill me here and now simply because I have instructed you to pour a drink? How would you do it I wonder? Poison? Perhaps you think you could kill me with the pitcher you are pouring from?"

"I could kill you in any number of ways. I have no need for a weapon in that regard." She said simply, his taunting was a little offensive, but ultimately, she didn't much care. The less he thought of her, the easier it'd be to play him.

"If you can kill me in my own Yurt then you should do so as I would be deserving of death according to the customs of my culture. Of course as an Outsider you would not inherit my position amongst the tribe nor would you be able to alienate any of the other slaves in my service. Your death would be assured shortly after my own."

...he shrugged, enjoying the drink while continuing to sit comfortably across from her on the opposite side of the low table. Without allowing the conversation to sidetrack itself to far Ablen would retrace their conversation until he came to whether or not she should announce he had ordered the deed done or leave it a mystery...

"Your killing of the chieftain should remain inconclusive. Allow yourself to be caught in the aftermath if you like. As you will not be returning to my service following the task I can handle the rest."

...it seemed the Horselord was satisfied with how all of this would play out if Valeraine performed her task as intended. If, for some reason she was unsuccessful or could not perform the act then Ablen would not face any consequence for her failure.

"If they even think that I did it to begin with. You don't kill kings and not know how to redirect suspicion." She told him calmly. "And I have no intention of being caught. In fact I doubt you'll even see me again once the deed has been done. I might not even come back to tell you. And before you threaten to ride after me. I have a number of ways to preoccupy people's attention."

 

[Valeraine]

(I boop your snoot Ablen! C=< )