The drum beats carried through the air like a powerful force, bodies and sand shaking with each powerful thrum. Five large men, dressed in little more than loincloths, muscles bulging with each powerful swing of the massive mallet, stood before drums twice the size of a horse. They took turns slamming their mallet into the animal skin drum, creating a hypnotic, powerful orchestra of guttural tribal music. Behind them lay a bonfire, massive amounts of wood piled up nearly ten feet high, the flames licking at the stars above in the night sky, and everyone around watched as each individual flame seemed to undulate to the beat of the drums.

The barbarian horde had once more obtained victory over their enemies, and this was their celebration. Krevon D’ton watched as his warriors, men and women alike, ate and drank and fucked all around him, the musk of tens of thousands of warriors filling the air. It had been a glorious battle that day. Krevon turned to his closest advisor, Hrothgar, at his side and motioned to a couple of men wrestling in front of the fire.

“Ten golden talons on Arghest.” He said as he lifted his cup to his lips and drank. The man next to him laughed.

“Done. Lowin has not lost a wrestling match in ten moons!” Hrothgar stood and began shouting down at the men. “Lowin, you horse’s ass, if you lose I will make you tend to my chamber pots for a month!” All around them men and women laughed as they watched the two fight. It was over quickly, and thankfully for Lowin he had come out victorious, avoiding chamber pot duty for now.

“By the Gods it was a tough fight today.” Krevon said as he stirred the mead in his cup, watching it swish around “And we have to face the Seven Nation Alliance next. It is said that their heavy cavalry are hard men with good horses.” His mind was lost in thought as he tuned out the celebration going on around him and thought about the future of his people.

“We can’t go home, Krevon, you know that. Ilum won’t allow it.” The larger man held up his cup and a servant tipped a ceramic jar over it, filling it to the brim once more.

“That volcano is going to be the death of our people one day,” Krevon replied as he also continued to swirl the mead in his cup, lost in his own dour thoughts. The God of the volcano, Ilum was the worshipped God of the tribes. A powerful being said to signal the beginning and end of the Barbarian horde campaigns. When it began erupting, the horde went on the march, and they were not allowed to return home until it stopped. An entire league of riders were on hand back at home to send messengers out when the eruption stopped. At that time, the horde would turn and head home, and not a moment before that.

“My great Khan,” A voice intruded upon Krevon’s thoughts and he looked up to see one of his tribal leaders standing before. “I wanted to thank you for allowing my tribe to ride in the vanguard today. Our losses were significant, but the honor that you have given my tribe will linger for generations.” The heavyset man said. Even with a large belly and thick arms and legs, there was no mistaking the muscles beneath that weight. This man could lift a horse from the ground with his bare hands.

“Arkun Ton, you did your tribe, the horde, and your Kahn proud today.” Krevon said as he stood and walked down the slight slope of sand to the man, clasping forearms with him as he smiled. Arkun smiled in return, thankful for such a compliment. “I take it that your share of the spoils will help raise the next generation of Ton warriors?” Those in the vanguard always got a larger share of the spoils, because they were the ones who took the heaviest losses.

“Oh, yes, my Kahn, it was a magnificent tribute.” Arkun said with a giant smile. “Which, actually, is why I am here. It is widely known that your last servant boy was killed in that horse accident last year and that you have failed to take a new one. My Kahn, you are the most important and powerful man in the horde, and this I cannot abide.” Finally, from behind him, his large hand pushed a slight figure forward, covered in tattered clothing, hair cut short around their head and disheveled, with dirt covering almost every surface of visible skin.

Krevon looked down at the boy and then back up at one of his most trusted tribal leaders, before he looked back down at the boy again. It was tradition for the victors to take the captives after a battle as slaves to be forced to work as servants within the barbarian horde. Of course, one could turn down the offer, which would then result in their deaths, for there was only the two choices. Anyone after the first execution rarely refused servitude.

“Please, my Kahn, he is a gift to you, from me and my tribe. He has learned his words and lettering and speaks the language of our people as well. He will be a valuable asset. I believe he might have been one of the squires to one of the fallen knights.” Arkun finished, pushing the boy towards the Kahn. “You serve him now, boy, and you’d best do a good job, for if you show shame to me and my tribe I will have your limbs pulled from your frame.” Arkun growled.

Krevon reached down and placed a large hand under the boy’s chin, turning his face left and right.

“He looks healthy enough.” The young man that they were calling ‘boy’ was likely in his late teens to early twenties. He just happened to be short and scrawny, which gave the resemblance of a boy. He also had very feminine features, which didn’t help the poor lad any.

“Well, Arkun, I guess It is time for me to take another one, then. Thank you. I am honored by your gift.” The men clasped forearms once more, before Arkun turned and walked back over to where his tribe was celebrating the victory, leaving his gift behind.

Krevon stared at the boy for a few moments, before pushing his cup into the boy’s hand.

“Go and fetch me more mead, than ask one of the womenfolk to guide you to my tent and find you a sleeping roll. You live with me now, boy,” He said as he turned and made his way back up to where he had been seated.

Krevon sat back down next to his friend and sighed. It felt strange to have a new servant. He would be responsible for training the boy in combat, teaching him the traditions of the barbarians, and basically taking care of him for the rest of his life. It was possible, of course, for the boy to grow into a strong enough warrior to earn his freedom in ritual combat, but that was a long ways off at the very least.

“You know, Hrothgar, I think that I have had enough for tonight. I am tired and ready for a bath and to lay down.”

“Oho, he suddenly needs a bath now that he has a servant to wash him again, eh?” Hrothgar chuckled as he raised his mug in salute to his Kahn. “Go in peace, my friend. At least we have a few days before we ride again.”

Krevon grunted in reply, making his way to his tent, his weariness catching up to him as he walked between the large bonfires.

Of course, what no one had realized was the servant who looked like a boy, and had just been gifted to likely the most powerful man in the world at the head of the most powerful army, was actually a woman in disguise.

Hey guys, so thanks for taking the time to look this over. I love the woman in disguise idea, and I love me some good barbarians as well, so this is a combination of the two. Any thoughts, or pointing out of bad grammar and the like would be appreciated.

I don't have the kinks and limits posted yet for this one, but there will be once it goes up.

EDIT: I don't really think anyone actually rereads these things after commenting on them, so this is probably a silly edit, but I want to thank everyone who gave their advice on this. I knew something was off. I almost never post to the workshop, yet I knew something was off about this. I knew the idea was there, but after finishing it, I knew something was just not right. You folks at the Workshop are just wonderful, and pointed out all of the things that was indeed wrong. So thank you for that. This is why people should post here!

This does need an entirely new write-up, and i will keep everything mentioned in mind. Again my thanks if you happened to, for some reason, come back and see an edit.