Legends of Belariath
Jelt
Changes
Part I
“Lay hands on me again and I’ll see you drown in the blood of your childrens’ children you weaselly little arse!” The only reply was the slam of the heavy cell door. It took some control for Jelt to keep from grinding her teeth. She was not at all accustomed to her emotions so quickly rising to the surface.
That day had not been her best. First there was the annoyance of Aaron’s request. Break into Morgan’s estate and retrieve some damnedable trinket or another. Anything would do, so long as it was something he would miss. There was a large gaudy statue in one of the private halls. A nude woman with her hand outstretched. It would have been a piece of true art if not for the fact that someone had the gall to use cheap paint to color it gold. In the immobile woman’s hand sat a ruby the size of the duessa’s fist. Oh yes, they would certainly notice if that were gone.
Aaron was a pathetic master from the start. His schemes were half lunacy and usually pointless in the larger sense. Thinking small was fine. However, Jelt was of the school that knew small did not have to be obtuse. Small could be very damaging, very… painful.
Unfortunately, Aaron had one thing over her. He knew her weakness and her taunted her with it constantly. So, she had done as requested, knowing full well that it would not reap any benefit. She very nearly got away with it to, if not for one of the estate maid’s poor choice in timing. Jelt had taken a week to study the goings-on of the manor and no one was due in the hall for another fifteen minutes. The bumbling little whore of a maid choose just that moment to sneak into the hall with a would be lover. One of the Morgan’s guards. The duessa knew she was screwed the second she caught sight of them. It had first come down to a dank dark cell in the very pit of the warlord’s stronghold. Six days spent explaining Aaron’s foolhardy deceits to Morgan. It was only her betray of her idiotic ‘master’ that saved her own life.
The deal that followed was one she was loath to consider, but it was far better a million times over to rotting away without anything around her but stone walls and rats. She was released, but not with her freedom intact. Warlords have never really been known for their decency. As a result of a rather cruel and wicked sense of humor, Morgan sold her into the slave trade. A minor set back Jelt had thought then and indeed she had ruined a good six ‘masters’ before finally being bought by Calysto…
Part II
Time had ceased to be. The young human stood on the streets of the city common, faceless masses shifting past him as he looked towards the source of his life's being. He eased himself onto his strapped leg, and hobbled through to meet his destiny. They had originally set out that day, he and his father, to purchase clothes and books he would need for being sent off to the same educational centers his father had attended. "Bad enough you're crippled boy, you won't shame me by continuing your worthless fancies..." His fancies... his music, his songs, his dreams... they were lost on an uncaring father, who had long ago lost sight of all things beautiful.. save the glitter of coin.
But when he had exited the carriage, he had caught a glimpse of.. of.. it seemed like a sliver of a dream made reality. His father didn't notice him go as was so often the case, so he made it to the raised dais for selling slaves un-interrupted. There were many pretty specimens of a myriad of species, but she caught his gaze like no woman ever had before. Naked, she stood as if offended others were clothed. She looked like she might be of Elvin descent, with pointed ears and inhumanly beautiful features.. but it was her pride that shone out the most. She was a slave, property.. yet she looked about her as if all belonged to her.. no harsh hand or unforgiving whip would ever break her... Every fiber of his being soared out to him.. she had to be his... even if owning her would only be an illusion...
"One Thousand Mehrials..." The silence was nearly deafening. Had it not been for the armed guards about, the youth surely would have been robbed a heartbeat later. As it was the auctioneer had just barely called for an opening bid on the creature, and stood there staring before instinct kicked in. "One.. Thousand.. going once.. twice... sold to the wealthy lad." He barely had time to hand over the money before a large fist grabbed him by the shirt and hauled him around. He met, as he so often had, the blazing eyes of his father. "You stupid little bastard! That money was to go towards your future!" "Your future father... I've never desired to be like you." A fist crashed into his face, and for a moment all was dark as he felt himself falling to the ground.
When he awoke, he barely saw the figure of his father's form entering the carriage again before it set off. Nothing was said but the meaning was clear.. he had been outcast. A shadow fell over him, and he strained to look up. She was standing over him, her arms crossed over her ample breasts, a spider-silk cloak thrown about her shoulders. She smirked, and shook her head. "There are less expensive ways to get beaten... Master..." The way she said the last word.. he could not tell if it was said with contempt, amusement, sympathy.. or anything at all. She leaned down to help him up.. and at that moment, she became his world.