The Destroyer Book 4

by Michael-Scott Earle

  “Na na na no, Mistress,” he stuttered and pointed over his shoulder to the other open door of the stable. “My younger brother is shoveling the manure.”

  “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow morning. No oats!” He nodded again and crouched low in a painful-looking bow.

  I missed the scent of wood, hay, and horses as soon as I left the stables, though it was pleasant to walk after being in the saddle for so long. A bath, a large meal, and a fermented beverage would be the perfect way to relax after the long journey and unexpected attack.

  The manor house was larger than I expected, but crafted in the country style of rough log timbers and river rock just as I had envisioned. I supposed it had a rugged beauty, but I preferred the clean, sweeping desert towers and vibrantly painted adobe dwellings of my mother’s land that managed to blend artistry with stylized, efficient functionality. The massive structure before me lacked grace and it looked as if the builders had haphazardly stacked a pile of logs and stones simply to keep out the elements, with absolutely zero regard for aesthetics.

  “Welcome, Mistress. We have prepared a bath for you.” The woman was dressed in the clothes of a servant, but her jewelry indicated a higher rank, I guessed she was the house manager or perhaps my father’s mistress. Perhaps both. Her eyes shone as deep as blue sapphires, her otherwise black hair reflected the same jewel tones as it caught the light. Behind her stood four humans, normally the scent of their race repulsed me, particularly in such close quarters, but I could smell nothing but the smooth sweetness of vanilla spiked with cinnamon. I followed the group up a stout staircase and back into the west wing of the home.

  “Your father had this space prepared for your stay with us. This is the foyer.” She gestured to the wide entryway, it held a long couch, a bar, and a table with seating for six. The furniture was crafted in some sort of dark wood. I could not discern the type of tree under the scent of the lemon oil and beeswax with which it was polished. The walls were decorated with uninspired but adequately done paintings of horses in various stages of movement.

  “I doubt my father personally prepared this room.” I traced my fingertips across the table.

  “He delegated the task to me actually, Mistress.” She laughed slightly. “I am glad that you like it.”

  “I didn’t say I liked it.” I set my eyes on her and waited for the woman to squirm.

  “But you do of course. You are a woman of taste and this represents your interests and style. I know much about you already.” Her scent betrayed very little fear beneath her boldness.

  “We’ll see,” I said without emotion. I walked through the door into the next room and tried to stifle a gasp, lest this haughty servant know that she had impressed me.

  My eyes fixated on the bed. It was massive. It could have held my horse had I been inclined toward such deviant sexual activities. The sheets and covers were beautifully crafted in satin so smooth and fine it looked like silvery liquid pooled on the bed. Four dark wood posts ascended from each corner to support a mesh canopy, which I assumed, rather bitterly, was not there for decoration, but necessary for keeping away the bugs that must swarm this miserable wilderness in the summer. Each post was decorated with finely carved horses mounted by female archers. The artwork here was far superior to the paintings in the foyer and my fingers ran over each delicate and perfectly carved form on the nearest post. The artist had captured the beauty of the horse in movement, accurately depicting each curve of muscle and turn of bone while simultaneously wrapping the image artfully around the natural shape and curve of the wooden post.

  There were a few green wool couches gathered around a low meeting table crafted in the same style as the bed. In the back of the room, large wrought iron doors framed stained glass window panes. The afternoon light slanted through at the perfect angle, throwing a beautiful floral pattern of blue, green, and yellow across the floor of the room.

  “Your private balcony waits through those doors. Would you care to take a look?” I didn’t bother to reply since I was already opening the beautiful doors and stepping out onto the veranda.

  “That is quite a view,” I accidently said under my breath. The house was built on the apex of a hill which allowed me to see for miles. Carefully planted orchards of fruit trees, rows of vegetables, and patches of herbs spread down across the landscape. I spotted a few creeks that dipped between the hills and seemed to meet up with a more powerful river that cut across the land like an artist’s thick brushstroke. Space that wasn’t devoted to food production was set aside for timber forests and grazing for livestock.

  I had always found the desert enchanting, but it was a fascination with death. The desert was harsh and unforgiving, mercilessly killing any that came into her folds unprepared or unaware. Her beauty was harsh and forlorn. This land was lush and motherly, of life and creation.

  “Your father and the elders wish to dine with you tonight, but if you would prefer your breakfast out here tomorrow morning, that can be arranged.” The woman gestured to the side and I saw the furniture on the balcony. The wind picked up and brought the scent of rosemary, basil, and ripe figs from beneath us.

  “I will bathe before dinner.” I turned to her and concealed my approval.

  “Yes, of course. Your private bathroom is off of your bedroom.” The four human slaves moved out of our way gracefully and followed us into the bathroom.

  This room was also much more splendid than I would have guessed. The floor was silky smooth white marble which matched the sink, toilet and a huge, deep bathtub. The room was perhaps twenty by forty feet, and the tub consumed almost a quarter of that space. Six people could comfortably bathe in its waters. One could almost swim.

  “Water is delivered via pipes from a boiler in the basement. It takes about an hour to fill the tub and requires a significant quantity of wood to adequately heat the water. It is best to inform a slave of your intention to bathe so that they can alert the humans that feed fire to the boiler.”

  I ran my hands through the steaming waters. It was the perfect temperature. On a shelf nearby various bottles of oils and herbs would allow me to scent the water to my liking.

  “I will keep that in mind.” I examined the toilet and noticed that it also had a tank above the seat and pipes leading down to the floor. The plumbing looked relatively new and I wondered if they had updated the home in anticipation of my arrival. My mother’s estate was plumbed fully, but it was a technology that was not yet common.

  “We can undress you if you would prefer,” the woman said with a gentle smile, and I detected a slight scent of eagerness. The humans moved toward me.

  “I will handle that myself.” I waved them off and smirked at the girls’ obvious looks of disappointment. I did find it barbaric to have humans attending to the needs of the house. They should have been kept outside where their foul odor would be less offensive.

  “I will be speaking to my father tonight about personal Elven attendants.” I found a stool carved in pine and decorated with a delicate floral pattern and sat on it to remove my boots.

  “You are dismissed,” the blue-haired woman said to the humans and they bowed to both of us before leaving.

  “You smell fine, but I would prefer that the humans do not touch me or my garments.” I removed one boot and looked at the woman again. Perhaps I would not mind her removing my clothes. She was beautiful.

  “Very well. Do you require an attendant for your bath?” she asked and I wondered if she caught my appraising look. Her scent had no trace of musk to it.

  “Not today. You may lay out my dinner attire.” I finished taking off my boots and removed my silk socks. Then I began to unbutton my leather tunic.

  “I’ve chosen a silver gown to match your eyes. Our warriors are riding out to the location you gave your father. They should be able to retrieve more of your clothes and personal possessions. It is amazing you survived that attack. Did you really kill twelve Ubarwa warriors?”

  “Fourteen.” I finished t
aking off my clothes and got into the bath. The water felt fantastic and I reached for the scented oils.

  “Amazing. Legends speak of Singleborn power, but I never thought I would meet one. Were you afraid?”

  “No. I’ve killed plenty of Elvens and far too many humans and horses to count.” One of the oils smelled of lavender and another of pine needles. I poured a small amount of each into the tub and watched them swirl around in the hot water. They were powerful and the bath immediately began to smell soothing.

  “Your fierce reputation has evoked some fear in the tribe. Of course, we are thankful that you are here with us safely.” She bowed with a slight smile.

  “I would hope so.” I turned my attention back to the woman. “What is your name?”

  “Relyara, Mistress. Thank you for asking.” She bowed again.

  “Are you fucking my father?”

  “What? No! Of course not.” She looked shocked that I asked the question, but I smelled her fear. It was unclear if the scent came because she feared I would not believe her lie or because she feared I would not believe the truth. I would need a few days to accustom myself to her scent and its normal variations before I could decide. The strong aroma of the bath oil was further confusing my conclusions.

  “The Ubarwa knew I was coming. They knew the route and how many guards I had. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you, Relyara?” I found a small brick of creamy soap and washed the tender parts of my feet.

  “I am sorry, Mistress. I am just a servant in your father’s house. You need not question my loyalty to your family. And in any case, I am not privy to such information to begin with. It is unfortunate that you were attacked, but I am happy that you are alive now.” The scent of fear was still there, mixed slightly with the peppery hot scent of anger and indignation. The words sounded rehearsed, but that could have been my own paranoia. If Relyara was fucking my father, then she would have reason to want me dead. My father had many offspring, but I was his eldest and the Singleborn. I had rights to his land and title. Relyara would be wise to fear for her place, or any children she might conceive with him.

  “A servant as capable as yourself must have an ear for gossip. No matter, though. When I determine who betrayed my father I will rip their body apart with my fingernails. Anything you could do to expedite the discovery of this traitor would earn my gratitude and appreciation.” I smiled warmly at her. Her scent filled the bathroom with bitterness and she met my eyes boldly.

  “I will do my best to serve you in all aspects, Mistress.”

  “I will continue my bath alone. Please prepare my dress and return when it is time for dinner."

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She fled to the other room and I heard the sound of doors being opened and the gentle swish of silk garments being moved. I suspected it was one of my father’s elders who had betrayed my travel information to the Ubarwa, but it would be useful for Relyara to fear and respect me, I could earn true loyalty in time. I heard her leave the room and I sighed in relief and leaned back into the water.

  If there was anything I loved as much as riding horses, it was taking hot baths.

  A pounding on the door reverberated in my ears and rippled the water of my bath. I had fallen asleep. The water was still hot, so I could not have been unconscious for long.

  My door opened and I heard footsteps make their way toward the bathroom. The scent of the oils prevented me from identifying who entered the room with certainty, though the rhythm and weight of the footsteps made me guess it was my father.

  “I’m in here!” I yelled. He came in, glowering down at me.

  “You should be dressed by now.” He crossed his arms over the chest of his green velvet robe.

  “Relyara said she would return when it was time to prepare.”

  “What if she was late? You would disrespect our time?” He smelled angry, but there was a hint of something else. The bathwater was only somewhat opaque and he could see my naked body from his standing position. He must have realized that I smelled his arousal and he looked away toward the bedroom.

  “That is such an interesting word.” I found a wood comb on the ledge of the tub and ran it through my long, wet hair.

  “Time?”

  “No. Disrespect. I have found that those who use the word the most are often the least deserving of it.”

  “What are you trying to say girl?” He turned to me with obvious fury in his eyes and scent.

  “I am not implying anything negative about you, Father. Perhaps your elders have used that word often. You should keep a careful eye on them.” I knew that his father was an elder, and had assumed role of Chieftain of the Laxile Tribe after an orchestrated uprising. They were supposed to help manage the various bloodlines and families of the tribe, but they would gladly betray the leader if it put them on a course of mastery.

  “I will consider your words. But for the next few months, I need you to be polite to them and ensure them that you are supporting my decisions and looking to create opportunities for our clan’s advancement.”

  “With my womb?” I snorted.

  “This is the attitude your mother warned me about. She said you would be useless to me just as you were useless to her.”

  “Those are harsh words. And I’m sure she meant all the venom in them.” I almost laughed. Cobras were less cunning and deadly than the woman. She would have tied me to a table; legs spread, and invited every male within one hundred miles to inseminate me so she could breed the next generation of strength for her clan. But I was stronger than her and she knew this. The best way to combat a cobra was to cut off its head.

  “You are cunning. You got that from her. I will admit that my strengths lie in other places. This does not have to be an antagonistic relationship. Your offspring shall give us great leverage over the other clans, but I would also appreciate your perspective with the other elders and tribe leaders.”

  “Hand me the towel.” I gestured to them and he got up to retrieve one. I stood up naked from the water and watched his hungry eyes appraise my body. His arousal musk poured into the room and I fought back a smile. “I will consider your words.” I ran the towel down my breasts, stomach, hips, and then I parted my legs to dry between them. “I am going to need instructors. Apparently, we are good at hunting?”

  “Yes.” The word escaped his mouth in a slow drone and I could see the sweat pouring off of his brow. The sick fuck.

  “Good. I will require some private instruction from the best in the tribe. Archery, riding, tracking, perhaps various weapons, the usual martial arts. I am sure your elders will identify them for me during dinner tonight and then you can summon them. I will want to assess their abilities myself, of course.”

  “Very well.” He choked out the words. Inbreeding had been against our race’s laws since the time of the Dead Gods, but I had no doubt that if I bent over the bathtub he would have fucked me right then. I found the idea repulsive, but his scent gave me all the information I needed about how to leverage our relationship to my advantage.

  Men were so easy to manipulate. Women had their desires as well, but our bodies and minds were not beholden to them. My father would allow me to delay mating, clinging to the fucked up shred of hope that I would allow him to do the deed himself.

  “I will change now. How soon until dinner?” I dropped the towel in the bathroom and walked into my room naked so he could see my backside. The silver dress was laid out on the white bedsheets. The latest style in the desert tribes leaned toward a mass of ribbons and wide petticoats. This gown was a sleeker design, simpler in its flow with only minimal, thin straps to hold it on to my body.

  “Quarter of an hour. Should I meet you there?” It was so clear he wanted to remain and watch me dress, but I had all the information I needed from him and if he leered at me much longer, my own scent would betray my disgust and interfere with my ability to control the old man.

  “Yes. I will meet you there. If you see Relyara in the hall
, send her."

  “Very well.” He smelled like disappointment: mulched rotting vegetables.

  A knock sounded at the door and he moved down the foyer to answer it. As soon as it opened the vanilla breeze blew into my bedroom.

  “She is getting dressed,” he said to Relyara.

  “I will assist.” I heard her footsteps enter and his leave. By the time she made it to the other room I was attempting to get my arms through the straps.

  “Tell me of the elders.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “I believe I met two earlier today. Zaarmo and Dluuzit? I forced myself to remember their names.

  “There are three more: Vuma, Oimon, and Gnella.” Relyara finished tying the back of the dress. It fit perfectly, perhaps a bit on the tight side, but that was how I liked my dresses. Then none would underestimate the amount of physical violence I was capable of inflicting upon those who displeased me.

  “Which is the cleverest? Zaarmo and Dluuzit seemed dumber than humans.”

  “I am not familiar enough with them to—”

  “Don’t be coy. I’m sure you have an opinion.” I turned to look in the mirror. My hair was still wet but since I had combed it out, the red strands would not curl too much.

  “Vuma is the smartest, Mistress. Also Gnella. They disagree on much though. Each elder save for Gnella has descendants they will wish to breed with you.”

  “Yes, yes, yes. There is a waiting line for my loins. I will deal with that in time. Who has the most support with the people in the tribe?”

  “Your father, of course.” She smiled and tilted her head. I didn’t mistake her scent though.

  “This is unfortunate, Relyara. I thought we were going to get along better.” I shook my head and sighed slightly.

  “I am prepared to serve your needs Mis—” I squeezed her throat with my left hand and silenced her. With a casual flip of my arm, shoulder, and hip, I tossed the woman against the mirrored wall. It shattered into hundreds of pieces and she screamed in pain as the tiny shards scratched and cut her delicate skin.