The Destroyer

by Michael-Scott Earle

  "Sit on that stool while you do it. Face me." She pointed a few feet from her. I obediently sat down and began to brush the boots. After every dozen strokes I glanced back up at the beautiful woman to see if she was paying any attention to me. Each careful peek confirmed that she was staring at me with fascination, and my back started to dampen with cold sweat. Perhaps today she would grow bored with this game and kill me.

  "Where is your father, human?"

  "He is obtaining some tools at the bazaar, Mistress." I tried not to sound meek. I knew what would happen next.

  "When will he return?"

  "He normally comes back in the afternoon. But he might finish early and be back any moment, Mistress." I tried to sound confident, but the bazaar was on the border of our tribal lands and it took him all day to make the trip.

  "Hum . . ." she purred, as she leaned back and looked at the ceiling of the stable. "I doubt it." She began to take her socks off as she glanced away from me. Her feet and calves looked like they were made out of the white marble that decorated her house.

  Her hands went flat to the edge of the crate and lifted her lower body off of the wood as if she weighed only a pound. Then her legs formed a straight line with her toes pointing ahead of her. After a few seconds of holding herself off of the crate she wiggled her toes and sighed. With no effort, she tucked her legs under her chest and spun her body around beneath her arms. She emerged from the roll in a perfect handstand and draped her wonderful hair almost to the ground. She held this position for a few minutes on the edge of the crate. Finally, she let out a long sigh and completed a front flip to land with a puff into the dirt on the stable ground.

  "Which horse is your favorite, human?" she said as she walked around and began to touch the horses in the stable.

  "Yours Mistress." I almost cried. Her feet were covered in dust and dirt from the short walk across the floor of the stable. I swept it every night, but her entourage used six of the horses today and they had created a mess when I put them back in their stalls.

  "Why mine, human? Is it because he is the best, or because he is mine?" She reached up and patted her mount's face. This horse was smart enough to fake affection and leaned into her hand. Her last horse bit her once and she rode him so hard the rest of the day that he had collapsed. Then she ripped the legs from his body as easily as a child pulls the legs off of a bug. If I answered this question wrong she might do the same to me.

  "Both, Mistress." This was the most conversation she had ever engaged me with, and I dreaded an incorrect answer.

  "You are smart for one of your kind, no?" She looked over at me and began to walk in my direction.

  "My father often calls me a lummox when I forget one of my chores," I said, looking away from her and going back to scrubbing her boots. One of them was finished and I hoped that she would be satisfied with their shine.

  "Perfect." She reached down and inspected the boot. "You are also good with your hands, human. Do any of your masters compliment you? Or is it just me?" Her silver-blue eyes burned into me. My hands shook when she handed it back to me.

  "No Mistress. I only talk to you. If you don't want to speak to me I don't mind," I stuttered. Her smile turned into a sudden frown.

  "I do not care if you mind or not. Your opinion of the matter isn't important to me, human. I choose to talk to you now. You will answer. Understand?" I nodded and struggled to control the terror in my body. My eyes were probably the size of her horse's.

  "The other boot looks perfect. Stop now," she commanded. I picked up the other one, got on my knees before her, and raised them up so she could accept them.

  "Yes. They look fine. Unfortunately, it looks like my feet are too dirty to put them on again. You will have to fix that, human." Her face wore the smirk again. This always happened after I polished her boots.

  "Yes Mistress. I will get warm water." I dashed toward the back of the stable. The first time she asked me to do this I didn't have any warm water ready. It had taken me ten minutes to grab a bucketful from the well and boil it. The wait didn't suit her, so she cuffed me across the ear so hard that I wondered if I had been kicked by a horse instead. Now I always kept water simmering throughout the day.

  She was perched on the crate again when I came back with two buckets of water, soap, a soft scrubbing brush, and a towel. Once I was set up on my stool she wordlessly pointed her foot into my chest. Then I reached out my hands to caress her feet.

  Touching her was a mixture of pleasure and fear. Her skin felt like the smoothest piece of cloth I had ever touched: a patch of satin that another slave had stolen from the dining table at one of their mating parties. We passed it around like a sacred totem and wondered at how it could have been made. Humans weren't allowed such finery.

  "Rub in the arch human," she whispered as I traced my fingers across the ball of her foot. I dug deeper with my thumbs and she hummed in appreciation. If she knew that I enjoyed this she would kill me. It was forbidden for my kind to touch the Elvens unless they were in danger of death. Even then the offending human would probably be killed.

  I had never even touched a human girl. My father, brother, and I were the only three that managed the stables and blacksmith. Maintaining both involved endless work. We didn't have time to attend the rare holiday the Elvens granted us, or even walk across the estate to the hall where we could eat with our own kind. Even as I washed her feet, my mind was turning over all the other tasks I needed to do in my father's absence. My brother was managing the same impossible list of responsibilities in the smithy.

  "That feels good. Next foot." My hands were not nearly as strong as hers, but the work I did around the stables and smithy ensured I had decent fortitude in my arms.

  I appraised the fine network of muscles in her feet. They were sleek with water and soap and I found myself wondering what the rest of her body looked like without clothes. It was madness, but my efforts to push the thought away only prevailed for mere seconds before my imagination returned tenfold with the beautiful image.

  "Excellent work human. Dry them." I complied, and stole a quick glance up at her face, hoping she would be happy with my effort. She had asked me to do this for her almost every day for the last two months. Her face seemed pleased as she looked down at me. I was careful to dry between her toes. I used the cleanest towel I had and worried that it wasn't soft enough.

  "What is your name, human?" she asked, her voice only more than a whisper.

  "My name?" I gasped. My hands wrapped around the towel that hugged her feet.

  "Yes. Father's personal slave is called 'Wiial' or something I don't care to remember. Do you have a name?" She raised an eyebrow in question and her eyes focused on me like a sliver of sunlight over the ocean.

  "Yes Mistress. I'm called Kaiyer, Mistress," I said as I looked to her feet and continued to dry.

  "Kaiyer . . . Kaiyer . . . Kaiyer," she repeated my name. My heart hammered like it might escape my chest. No Elven had ever used my name. "It agrees with me." My shoulders relaxed and I tried not to gasp in relief.

  "Do you like working in the stables?" she continued. I wondered if she was leading me somewhere with these questions. In the past she would ask for a clean pair of socks from her saddle bag and then leave at this point.

  "Yes Mistress."

  "Why?"

  "I like horses, Mistress. Also, I get to see you and the other masters ride them." She nodded. I finished drying her feet, but she hadn't asked for her socks yet. I just kept rubbing them through the towel.

  "Have you ever ridden?"

  "Oh no Mistress. I am not allowed. My father said I would be killed." I looked up at her and she smiled.

  "Would you like to?" she asked as she shook her foot a bit. That was the signal for me to stop drying them. I released my hold and my hands hung in the air as I tried to think of what they should do next.

  "I would love to ride one, Mistress. But I would dislike being killed," I said. She laughed and it sounded wonderful,
even if she mocked me.

  "Of course not! Ha! You are quite funny human." She lifted her feet and sat cross-legged on the crate above me. I tried not to gawk at the shape of her legs through her tight leather riding pants, or the contour of her breasts and nipples through the thin fabric of her green tunic. I think I failed, her eyes caught me and I turned away in fear. "Perhaps I will take you riding one day, Kaiyer. You amuse me." I turned back to look at her. I think my mouth hung open in surprise because she laughed again.

  "Yes, I think I will. I can imagine the expression on your face. Don't worry. You will not be killed, as long as I allow it. Of course, we'll have to do it sometime late at night or very early. If any of my kind, especially my suitors, saw you riding with me, they might become jealous. I can tell them not to harm you but, accidents can always happen to your frail kind."

  I would get a chance to ride? I didn't know of a single human ever riding a horse. I tried to guard my emotions, but I couldn't, and smiled up at her gratefully. For almost a split second I thought that she was being sincere. But of course, it was easy to forget how her kind acted when she dangled hope in front of me.

  "Of course I'll need some sort of payment from you," she said as her smile faded. "It's not like we can have humans riding our-" she paused as if looking for the right word, "horses, all day long. I'm willing to make an exception for you if you are willing to give me the proper payment." I felt my hopes dash. I had no money and didn’t really own anything more than three different pairs of pants and a few shirts. Perhaps I didn't even own those. She, or her father, did.

  "Oh don't look so downtrodden Kaiyer, my precious little plaything. You'll be able to pay me this." Her smile came back but I feared that she was just leading me on and then would kill me. I nodded, ready for whatever she wanted me to do. I had no other choice.

  She spun around on her hands and lay on her stomach, across the crate, before I even realized that she had moved. Her hands and long flowing hair draped over the edge. Her copper red locks possessed a metallic sheen, and their length almost touched the ground. She beckoned me with a slender finger. I cautiously took a step nearer and then her hands grasped around my neck and yanked me closer than I dared to stand. Her grip was twice as strong as mine and I couldn't possibly escape. Before I even registered the danger, her hair draped over my shoulder.

  I had never touched a human woman's hair before, let alone dreamed of this particular Elven's hair. It felt even softer than her amazing skin as it brushed against my neck and cheek. She pulled my head sideways so that my ear touched up against her exquisite mouth.

  "You'll give me anything I ask, Kaiyer?" Her breath slid hot against my ear. My mind was spinning like a leaf in the wind and my arousal struggled to wrestle against my panic.

  "Yes!" I squeaked out.

  "Goooood," she purred. "We'll continue this conversation later. Get fresh socks out of my bag." Then she let me go. "Now!" she commanded after I stood there stunned for a few seconds. I ran over to her bag and grabbed a clean pair. I rushed them back to her and stared into her face. She looked uninterested and aloof like all the Elvens did when they dealt with us humans

  I handed her the socks and she put them on in a practiced motion. Then she pointed to her boots. I gave them to her, fighting the lump in my throat. She would never let me ride. This was just a game she played with me, like a cat toying with a mouse before eating it. She would let me ride and then kill me afterward. Maybe she would bring her friends and make sport of it. Sometimes they killed humans like that. My brother had warned me that she had killed many slaves in the past year.

  She slid her boots on, vaulted from the crate, and landed silently ten feet from me. She grabbed her leather satchel on the way out of the stables without another promise. I made sure that I heard the heels of her boots click on the stone path outside the stables before I went back to work.

  Chapter 4-Kaiyer

  The memory awoke me with a start and I gasped. It had been so vivid, and more of my earlier life's experiences began to wrap around my brain. I didn't remember any more about the woman. She had been an Elven though. Paug had given enough description for me to guess that these Ancients he and Nadea wanted me to fight were the same race as the woman. In my memory humans were their slaves.

  I was her slave.

  The night hung about us as a heavy drape torn with sparkling rivers of stars. I didn't recognize any of their patterns, but I expected as much. Everything about this world seemed familiar, yet different enough to be discombobulating. I yearned for my dreams, even if I knew them to be false. Life had been simple jumping between the islands of my subconscious.

  A throat cleared nearby, and I turned my gaze down from the stars to see Nadea across the campfire. We had been traveling northward through the jungle. This was our second night since they had awoken me. Nadea looked at me with her eyebrows raised in concern. Everyone but Greykin seemed to look at me with a mixture of fear and pity. The big old man preferred to ignore my presence.

  "Do you want some food? Water?" Nadea whispered from the comfort of her bedroll. I had been pestering Paug about his language for the last two days and now understood basic conversation. It must have been her watch. Everyone else slept curled up in their light blankets.

  It stunk of hot and damp in this jungle. Dead plants and animals mixed with hungry earth and musky sudor. I could see small drops of sweat saunter down Paug's sleeping face next to me. The scent of their heated bodies mixed with the smoke of the fire and the jungle and almost stirred up another memory in my mind. Then it fled and I didn't have the energy to give chase through the silence of my subconscious.

  "Yes," I said, sitting up more. I was always thirsty or hungry, but the act brought bouts of queasiness. Eating also made me exhausted, so I would risk the possible nausea if it meant I might have a chance at deep sleep. The memory of the woman had left me filled with terror and sadness.

  Nadea glanced around the camp to make sure she wouldn't disturb the sleepers before she sneaked over to our food stores. She pulled out a tied bag of waxy paper, opened it, and handed me a large piece of salted, dried meat. Then she poured me water from a skin into a tin cup. I got out of my bedroll and moved to a rock closer to the fire and accepted them. She turned away after I gave her my thanks and studied the orange flames.

  I nibbled on the meat and stared into the fire. My brain became preoccupied remembering the Elven woman and the dreams of the floating islands. The fire almost matched the color of her hair. The flame made the night heat even more unbearable, but we would have been prey to the bugs and other menacing animals in the jungle without its protection.

  "Are you okay?" Nadea whispered from across the fire. She had a soft sheen of perspiration across her face, shoulders, and neck. It made her skin glow in the firelight. She wasn't wearing her usual leather travel pants and thick tunic because of the heat, just thin undergarments that almost didn't cover her slick form. She was mostly legs, her body toned by travel, riding, lifting, and exploring Ancient ruins. Her dark brown hair fell loose across one of her shoulders, leaving her neck bare on the other side.

  Paug had told me that she was part of some royal family and had chosen her odd profession, even though she could have done anything she wanted. He tried to explain to me what royalty was, but I still didn't understand the concept. The thought of someone else, let alone possibly unfit descendants, deciding what laws I should live by reminded me too much of the memory from which I had just awoken. I never wanted to feel that powerless again.

  Nadea was very beautiful, especially in the warm glow of the fire. Feelings of arousal surfaced deep within my stomach as I imagined my hands grasping the woman's hips and pulling her against me. My eyes drank her in and my fantasy began to sprint away. I wondered what her lips tasted like, how smooth her skin would be against my fingertips, and what sounds she would make when I brought her to orgasm.

  I looked at her and probably did a poor job of hiding my lust. Her face flushed an
d her breathing caught when our eyes met. Her mouth opened to say something again but no words came. I flashed back to the woman in my dream for a second. If I really had been asleep for as long as they all thought, I should make sure that all parts of my body worked correctly. My member pulsed in agreement against the inside of my pants.

  Was there proper etiquette to proposing that we go into the darkness of the jungle and please each other? I couldn't even remember acceptable courting behavior in my own memories, I only recalled the beautiful Elven woman terrorizing me. Then I laughed to myself. I didn't even know how to ask Nadea to be my lover anyway. The language difference was an especially large annoyance right now.

  "I feel good," I answered her with a smile. Or at least, I think that was what I said. She smiled back.

  "Are you tired?" she said with an eyebrow raised. I didn't understand at first but then she held her hands under her face like a pillow.

  "No. Hungry," I said as I put the last of the jerky in my mouth and washed it down with water. I had been eating almost every hour for the last two days. Sometimes my stomach cramped and I threw up a bit, but my appetite justified the risk. I hadn't gained any perceivable weight though.

  "More?" She pointed to the food and I shook my head. She looked confused. "Hungry?"

  "Yes. Hungry." I nodded. "No. Food," I said with a smile as I looked over her body again. Her eyes opened wide. I guessed she understood what I meant because her heart began to beat much faster and she drew in a deep breath.

  "Ahhh . . ." Nadea looked around at her slumbering companions. She whispered a bunch of words I didn't understand except for "sleep.” Was she telling me to go back to sleep or that her friends were sleeping and we needed to leave? I hoped it was the latter. Her face flushed red in the orange glow so I guessed that she wanted the same. I got up from my rock and began to move around to her. Her mouth opened but no words came out. I reached out my hand to pull her out of her bedroll and into my arms. First I would kiss her full lips, and then savor the salty curve of her bare neck with my tongue.