Okay, here is it again. I shaved off 1750 words.

***

Twenty riders in dark green and maroon uniforms charged up the walkway to the Eastern Gate. Leading the cavalry squad was a dark haired woman on a pale horse. Her black armor seemed to absorb the light while the well-worn leather holding her weapons bore mute testimony to the ease with which she dealt death.

Making their way to a gothic castle looming over the city’s center, the clattering of hooves rang off the tightly packed buildings. Grinning at the alacrity with which the townspeople scattered from the rushing soldiers, Vish relished the terror her Angels inspired.

Dismounting in the castle’s courtyard, Vish kicked the dust of the road from her boots. With a cloth, she brushed her chest plate so that the engraved sword bisected by a pair of silver pair of wings glinted in the setting sun.

“Commander, the King has come to greet you.”

Vish looked up at her second in command’s words. Following his gaze, she gloated, “See, I told you there was no need to send a herald.”

“He seems offended at our unannounced arrival.”

“They are heathens, Cago. Who cares what offends them?” Vish replied, turning to face the King. His investiture had come after Vish executed his parents for sedition and impiety during her last campaign in the region and she wondered what sort of ruler that made him.

“Mistress, we are honored that you grace us with your presence,” the young king said through his clenched teeth.

“Don’t lie to me, Heto. You hate me and my army and all it represents.” She smirked, stroking her hand over the hilt of her dagger. “You could try and do something about it but we all know how well that turned out for your father.”

“May I ask why you have come? Surely, the Holy One does not require additional tribute?”

“The Angels and I have no orders regarding you or your lands.” She shrugged. “I’m here to make an offering at the Temple and sell some slaves.”

“For that you rode through my city with such unseemly haste?”

“Hardly unseemly for one of the Saved,” she chided him.

“I beg your pardon, Mistress.”

Vish smirked at the effort it took for such a proud man to apologize. Realizing that she was famished, she snidely asked, “Aren’t you going welcome me properly? Surely, even an apostate follows the rituals of hospitality?”

“Of course. I meant no disrespect.” King Heto snapped his fingers.

Immediately, uniformed serving girls stepped forward with jewel-encrusted bowls of fruits and nuts. Another carried a tray of golden goblets and was followed by a servant with a decanter of wine and a water pitcher.

Vish accepted the wine but refused the offer to water it down. Tossing back a handful of nuts, she chewed with her mouth open, knowing it would further irritate her unwilling host and his court.

Eating through the ritual wiping of her boots and the presentation of the keys to the kingdom, she wiped her sticky fingers off on her butt before handing over a commemorative coin blessed by the Supreme Apostle.

Smoothly, Heto handed off the coin to a page and asked, “How long will we be blessed with your presence?”

Vish sipped the cool liquid from her goblet, savoring the deep flavors of the aged wine. “We’ll be out of your hair in a ten day.”

“We can’t house your army for that long.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. My army will camp outside the walls and find provisions off the land.” Innocently, she added, “I understand the hunting is good in the Royal Forest.” When he began to sputter, she placed her goblet on a passing tray. “I will need accommodations, though.”

“Certainly. My staff will prepare you a suite. Will you join us for any meals?”

“No. Eating with infidels gives me gas. Arrange for something to be brought to my rooms.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Vish strode toward the steps, forcing the major domo to chase after her.

At daybreak, she participated in morning convocation before attending a slave auction. The flesh trade was held in a large room of a converted barn. Simple seating extended around three sides of a dirt pit. Each cobble of slaves was led around the pit before being led to a raised platform. One by one, the auctioneer made them bend and flex while extolling their particular virtues.

Shifting on a brocade cushion set upon an unvarnished plank, Vish watched two strings of her offerings come up for sale. The bidding was brisk and she smiled wolfishly at how generous this season’s tithe would be.

It might be large enough to purchase a dispensation from further service on the frontier. She dearly missed her ancestral home and her pleasure slaves. Longingly, she hoped her prayers would be answered with a posting somewhere civilized.

Her attention was brought back to the auction by a disturbance on the dais. One of the items for sale broke free of its bindings and attacked the guards. They were quickly incapacitated, including the auctioneer who rolled around in agony, his hands clutching at his ruined manhood.

The creature was the strangest thing that Vish had ever seen, exuding a striking sexuality even as it made short work of the guards. Of medium build, with prominent breasts and wide hips, the creature had pointed ears and eyes a remarkable golden color.

“What have we here?” Vish leaned forward and eyed the exotic looking creature. “Is the green natural?”

“Yes, Mistress.” The guild liaison nodded. “It is a fur covering her entire body.”

“I’ve never seen anything of its kind.” Watching closely as the creature broke the arm of one of the guards, Vish said, “I want it.”

She gave an order to one of her soldiers. Signaling three of his comrades to follow, he dropped into the pit. Vish kept a close eye on the slave as her soldiers advanced. The creature screamed incomprehensible curses but the invective did not slow the approach of the Angels of God.

While two of the soldiers began a slow accent of either side of the platform, the third stood at the front and drew his sword. The fourth soldier moved to the back of the platform and uncoiled a rope. Forming a loop, he swung the lasso over his head. The slave never realized that her danger was not from the menacing men but from the circling rope.

After the recalcitrant slave was subdued, the owner of the auction house scurried across the pit. “Mistress, I appreciate what your men did. That creature has been a handful since I bought it.”

“Tell me what you know about it.”

“She was captured up near the snow line of the highest peaks of the north.”

“Does she speak or understand our language?”

“I’ve only heard gibberish.”

“Give her to me.”

“What? For free?”

“You’re getting a commission on the flesh I brought you.” Vish’s eyes were hypnotic black pools. “That should be enough.”

“But, Mistress, her sale could bring in thousands.”

“Or I could release her and she could kill you.” She saw his shoulders slump as he made his decision. “I’m glad we could work things out.”

The merchant’s bow was insolently short. “It is always a pleasure to do business with Angels.”

Standing up, Vish signaled to her soldiers. One lifted the bound slave and tossed her over a broad shoulder. The creature’s struggles were nothing to the well-armored warrior as the small group returned to the castle.

“Show me the dungeon,” Vish demanded upon her return to the castle with her prize. “I need a place to train my new slave.”

King Heto snapped his fingers for the Sergeant at Arms. “You have full access. May you find all you need.”

Following the King’s man down the spiral staircase, Vish wrinkled her nose at the signs of disuse. Peering into cells that reeked of mold, she decided to use the primary torture chamber. That room was well lit and contained all the necessary restraints that she might need.

Forcing the creature to her knees, her soldiers connected a short chain from the collar around her neck to an iron bolt sunk into the floor.

Ordering a meal to be brought, Vish sat down on the throne that dominated the room. Wiggling around to get comfortable on the carved granite, she watched the creature test the strength of her bonds. Fur covered muscles strained impotently until the beast tired and glared in her direction.

Once the creature visibly calmed, she stalked across the room. “Since you have not been saved, your soul is lost. I can do anything to you that I wish.” Punctuating her comment with a right hook that rocked the slave, she curled her lip when the creature spat a mouthful of blood.

“Starting tonight, you will learn that everything you get comes from me.” Vish walked over to the table to enjoy her excellent meal. Smacking her lips, she grinned at the look of longing in the golden eyes. “I wonder when you last ate?” she mused.

Finishing what she could and deliberately leaving food on the plates, Vish wiped her mouth on the linen napkin before pushing back from the table. Blowing out the lanterns, she headed up the steps to her rooms. “No-one is to enter the dungeon,” she commanded the pair of soldiers posted at the end of the passage.

Waking refreshed the next morning, she immediately went down to check on her newest acquisition. About to nudge the creature awake, she saw the golden eyes were opened and watching her. “Good,” she said. “You’re ready for the first test.”

Vish poured a handful of water into her palm held down near the slave’s chin. When the creature growled and kept her eyes focused on the far wall, Vish just grinned and turned her hand over, letting the water trickle to the ground. “We’ll try again at noon.”

Leaving the chamber, Vish walked to the Temple. Taking a ritual bath before entering the sacristy, Vish prostrated herself before the altar to commune with the One True God for several hours.

Rising, she returned to the castle and ordered a large lunch to be brought down to the dungeon. Entering the torture chamber, she saw the slave the very picture of misery with even her pointy ears drooping.

Repeating her earlier attempt, Vish poured water into her palm and held her hand close to the slave’s mouth. Green fur ruffling, the slave leaned forward and lapped at the liquid.

“Very good.” Vish continued to fill her palm until the slave had enough.

With the remaining water, she cleaned the slave’s face and head, ignoring the flinching and trembling beneath her fingers. The fur was soft and she marveled at the texture.

“I don’t understand why you want that thing.” Her second in command stated as he set the tray down on the table. Cago could not conceal the look of revulsion on his face.

“What’s your problem?”

“Look at her!”

“What? Her flesh matches the colors that we wear for His Holiness.”

“She is a beast.”

“She looks human enough.”

“She is Unclean.”

“Its not like I’ll be eating her.” Vish grinned. “I intend to train her to eat me.”

“Lying with beasts is a sin.”

“True.” Vish filled her bowl with the choicest morsels. Popping a piece of meat into her mouth, she chewed thoughtfully. “You could resume your former position.”

“Mistress, please, don't joke about that.”

“I never joke about my conquests.” Wiping her mouth, she said, “You don’t seem pleased with the prospect.”

“I only recently recovered from our last joining.”

“I don’t recall you complaining at the time.”

“It was an experience that I will never forget.”

“Surely it was not all bad.”

“Of course not.” Cago tugged at his collar. “It was an honor, Mistress, that I no longer feel worthy of.”

“Don’t worry, Cago, once I train this thing, you will be safe from a return engagement.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Clearing his throat, Cago asked. “Why are we down here and not in your bed chamber?”

“Contrary to popular opinion, it isn’t all about sex.” Tearing off a hunk of bread with her teeth, Vish mumbled, “She must be tamed.”

“Just beat her until she is broken and be done with it.”

“I don’t want to break her. I want her obedience without killing her spirit.” Winking at Cago, Vish said, “Sort of like the way I enslaved you.”

“Excuse me? I am not a slave.”

“Of course you were. Your body responds even now to my commands.” Vish allowed her eyes to prowl over Cago’s face, over his chest, and down his torso, before they moved back up his body again.

Shifting nervously, the big man croaked, “Nonsense.”

“It is the simple truth. I used your mind to make your body mine.”

“I am not a slave!” he repeated.

“There is no shame in it. You should be proud to belong to me.” She stood next to him and smiled when he trembled. “I used your desires and needs to make you burn to serve.” Leaning close, she watched his nostrils flare and his eyes darken. “In the same manner, I will train her.”

Shaking his head, Cago backed away from her. “How so? She doesn’t even speak a civilized tongue.”

“I don’t want her for conversation,” replied Vish with a leer. “I’m going to start by teaching her that I am the source of all bounty.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“You might say she is hungry for a little lesson.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Don’t I always?” Vish answered. Picking up a bowl of meat, she moved to stand directly in front of the bound slave.

“You will eat nothing that you do not receive directly from my own hand, or with my permission. You will not ask to be fed, nor make any attempts to remind me to feed you. You will wait quietly until I feed you or you will do without. Here,” Vish held up a dripping morsel of lamb.

Waiting until the slave dipped her head slightly, Vish extended her arm. Avidly, she watched as the slave used her tongue to gingerly draw the meat from between her fingers.

Feeding her a few more pieces, Vish then waved Cago over. “Grab another bowl and offer the contents to her.”

When the slave made a move to take the food from his fingers, Vish struck out with her heavy boot. The slave landed hard on her side and lay wheezing on the stone floor.

“Get up.” Vish glared at the slave until the creature had dragged herself back to her knees. “Offer her another.”

Obeying her order, Cago held out a chunk of meat. The slave kept her eyes on Vish. “Very good.” When Vish proffered another morsel, the slave barely hesitated before taking the piece into her mouth.

“You’re a fast learner,” praised Vish. “You may not starve after all.” She tossed some meat on the floor. When the slave reached out, Vish stomped down hard.

Snarling, the slave cradled the injured limb against her chest. Vish tapped her toe on the ground. “No hands.”

Suddenly, the creature lunged forward and bit down Vish’s ankle with razor sharp teeth. Cursing, Vish shook her leg to break the vicious grip on her flesh. After several blows from Cago, the creature finally loosened her jaw and knelt, licking Vish’s blood from her lips.

“Kill it.”

“Its suffering won’t end so quickly.” Vish limped over and pulled down a single tail whip. Brandishing the whip, Vish ordered, “String her up.”

Vish splashed some unwatered wine over the bite wound. Through pain narrowed eyes she watched Cago drag the slave across the floor to shackles attached to a chain that led to a pulley and a winch.

“Take up the slack,” she demanded. “I want her elbows even with her pointy ears.”

Unfurling the whip, Vish cracked it once to test the limberness. The noise echoed loudly in the stone chamber. “Fifty strokes for the first offense,” Vish decreed, bringing back her arm.