For His Kingdom (Interlude: the General)
Masterlist
Content: new secondary whumpee, military whumpee, leader whump (sort of), betrayal, forcibly stripped, forced to kneel, whipping, branding, stoic whumpee, compliant whumpee, older whumpee, slave whump, medieval whump
Akon stood before his men as his king signed the surrender. He clenched his jaw, trying and failing to tune out the screams and weeping of the civilians being taken and shackled to be sold as slaves in the empire’s capitol or along the journey there. Many of his own men — and their families — would suffer a similar fate if they did not agree to join the army of the enemy.
He swallowed hard. He had no family left — he had never married and his men had been all the family he could need. He would join the empire’s army and throw himself on his sword before they forced him to help conquer another country as his own had been.
The surrender was signed.
The enemy general turned to him. He met the man’s cold eyes in confusion. Two soldiers stepped forward. Akon caught an apologetic look from his king but had no time to decipher it before he was roughly grabbed and forced to his knees.
The enemy general circled him. “Yes, he will do as the emperor’s next trophy.”
The words chilled him to his core and he fought the men holding him. But there were two of them and while his age brought experience, he could not outmatch them in strength.
“You already won! What do you need me for?” He looked to his king. “Sire! You cannot allow this?”
The king held his hands open in helpless apology. “The emperor demanded a trophy. My people need me to rule but you led our armies so they chose you. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”
Betrayal cut him to the core. “Have I not been loyal? How can you do this, Majesty?”
The enemy general struck him across the face and he tasted blood. “Silence or I’ll be forced to gag you. Or perhaps I shall remove your tongue. The emperor’s trophies do not need to speak, after all.”
Akon clamped his jaw shut.
Breathe in, breathe out.
He could feel fear of a new kind beginning to cloud his mind as the world seemed to tilt around him.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Distantly, he heard an order given but he couldn’t hear the words.
Rough hands forced him to the ground and stripped him to his braies. Rope was secured around his wrists and he was dragged to join the slaves.
He was taken to the capitol. Watched as the people he would have fought to the end to protect were sold to mines and galleys and worse. Mothers and fathers torn from their children. Husbands and wives separated. Every night as the company of slaves dwindled, he wept for them under cover of darkness and recited the names of all he had learned.
He was separated from those who remained at the capitol. They would go to markets, but he was brought to the palace.
A lead of rope was secured around his neck like a horse.
In the Great Hall he was forced to kneel before the throne. He met the emperor’s gaze unflinchingly. The emperor looked amused.
“Well done. Take him to the dungeons and return him to the retinue when you are finished.”
The chamber below the palace he was brought to could be nothing but a torture chamber. Akon was a practical man. Before they could manhandle him into any sort of device, he lowered himself to his knees before the other general. “Please, sir, I will do as you wish. There is no need for any… unpleasantries.”
The enemy general looked almost disappointed but sneered at him. “Then stand there, palms against the wall.” He pointed to the wall and the soldiers unbound Akon so he could obey.
He did, bracing himself. His fingers found purchase on the uneven stone.
A sharp crack was all the warning he got before a line of agony alit across his back. He gritted his teeth.
Again the whip came down. And again. His fingertips grew white from holding tightly to the stone.
Ten lashes, one after another, unrelenting.
It took all his willpower and strength to remain standing.
Then footsteps moved away.
The soldiers grabbed his arms and pulled him from the wall. He was forced against a wooden frame. They bound him spread-eagle, facing out. He could see a series of metal devices places into a brazier. He gulped.
One soldier unrolled a damaged banner on the table — the heraldry of Akon’s king. The other forced a piece of wood between Akon’s teeth. He let them do it. He would need it.
The general turned, in his hand a metal rod with a long narrow line at the end glowing red. Akon’s nostrils flared in fear as he fought to control his expression.
The general pressed the metal to Akon’s chest. He screamed, muffled by the wood. His hands gripped the edge of the frame as he fought every impulse in his body not to thrash in agony. The smell of burning flesh and hair filled his nostrils with its stink.
Next came other shapes, a combination of simple lines and curves. Each in turn was placed against his skin, searing his flesh with excruciating pain.
The wood cracked between his teeth on the final one.
They released his bonds and he collapsed, spitting out the wooden pieces to vomit. He tried to draw a deep breath and his chest screamed with pain. His vision danced with spots.
In his peripheral, he saw the general turn. “Have him cleaned up and put with the others.”
The others turned out to be a collection of fallen generals of other nations. All had been branded as he had been, the heraldry of the king that handed them over emblazoned in stark scars against their flesh. The routine was simple. They served in menial tasks in the kitchens and palace under the eyes of guards and of the chamberlain, who clearly resented the task. Any misstep won a beating.
They were made to act as the foodtasters and serving-boys for the midday meal, bearing the courses to the emperor as a display of his power. When he held court, they were lined against the sides of the hall where some would have statues displayed. It was a routine of sorts, and that at least was bearable. Every so often a new man would join their ranks, another greying general of yet another conquered land. Some, like him, simply cooperated. It was better to bide their time. Fighting back just made them weaker and more carefully watched. Those who tried had it beaten out of them. In time all learned to quietly obey as commanded.
But they listened.
The rumors of a young king taken as a trophy from a land that forced the empire into a treaty rather than surrendering filled the gossip of the household.
It was weeks after these began that the young man was seen. Collared in the mockery of a crown and chained to the dais as a more prominent display, he bore a tapestry of scars already yet still stood with a spark that spoke of a spirit not yet fully broken.
The emperor enjoyed humiliating the young man, toying with him and making him lap wine from the floor like a dog. Akon’s heart hurt for the young man, young enough to be his son, to be one of his men.
And there were other rumors. Rumors that the young king’s people continued to stir rebellion and fight in the lands around them, even the ones that had fallen to the empire. Even the soldiers in the general’s retinue whispered concerns and frustrations in the halls of the palace.
So even as the young king’s posture grew more weary and his spark dimmed, Akon bided his time in silent compliance.
No empire lasts forever, after all.