293 Worthy Of Being Gifted To The King

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Grace looked at the floor, her eyes holding a particular spot as if she was remembering the entire ordeal. "Our clan was attacked at daybreak. Although we were few in number, we had many good warriors that rushed off to fight, including my father and brother. The Tamim slaughtered them where they stood. At that point, the only ones left remaining were the old, the women, and the children."

"Knowing what was about to descend upon us, my mother sent my sister and I out into the desert. I remembered crying hearing the panic in the tribe, and seeing the despoiled bodies of my kin. We at least got a head start. My sister and I were half a league away when the warriors of Tamim descended on what remained of our clan. The elderly were killed first, mostly speared to death as if it were sport. The remaining women were raped repeatedly, and then killed. The prettiest ones were then taken as slaves. Most of the children were rounded up, being sold into the slave markets where they would command a good price."

"I never saw the village again. My sister and I pushed forward into the desert, away from certain death that awaited us back with the clan. Yet, we had little water, and less food. It became a death sentence anyway. She was the first to die, on the third day. I was so dehydrated and weak that I had no strength to bury her. I wasn't much longer for the world anyway. I remember collapsing and blacking out, and that was about it."

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She shuttered for a moment, and Stephen wrapped her up tightly in his arms. Once her composure was regained, she continued, "I suppose it is lucky that I'm still not buried under all that sand. I wasn't dead, though, yet. My barely breathing body was found later on that day by a group of Tamim merchants returned east. Due to my serious condition, and other factors, I was deemed a worthy gift to the nearby Djinn King."@@