Samanda was trembling and backing away slowly. “He will kill you when he sees it. He will kill you and drink your blood.”
Mikota took a step forward. “The King?”
Samanda shook her head. “No, no, the other one. The Shifter.”
Mikota shivered. There were rumors in the castle shifters often visited the king, attempting an alliance. But shifters and humans were enemies, as all races were enemies south of the Gray Mountains. When slave women went missing at the hands of their rapists, the rumors about shifters always surfaced. Mikota paid little heed to the fear motivated gossip knowing the real perpetrators.
Samanda’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I saw one once, during my time with the king.” She sat down on the bed and her eyes dulled. “He was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. They can look just like us Mikota, better than us. I was naked. The blood of my innocence still wet upon the sheets. The king offered me to him and I remember thinking it wouldn’t be so bad having a man like that want me. But he was no man.”
Samanda began slowly rocking back and forth on the bed arms wrapped around her belly. “He bowed to King Kryler and approached me. With every step his body distorted, at once animal and man. The fangs, the talons, the malice in his face. I closed my eyes because looking upon him froze my heart. He, he…”
A low keening sound erupted from Samanda’s throat. Her back and forth rocking became more frantic. “He will kill you and drink your blood. You are doomed, doomed, doomed.”
Mikota looked around the room for something to wear. Samanda must have removed her clothes from the room while she was bathing. There was nothing but a red silk robe lying at the end of the bed. She slipped it on and for a brief moment acknowledged the soft fabric against her naked flesh.
She watched Samanda rocking back and forth on the bed, her eyes unfocused and dull. Could she do it with humans? Could she help them like she often helped the dark stallion in the stable?
She thought again of the day many months ago when she placed her hands on the glossy black’s head to sooth it after a nasty beating. All the other slaves were sleeping but the stallion’s pain seemed to radiate toward her in shock waves keeping her from rest.
She approached the horse with care because it was injured and generally not friendly since its capture months before. Blood oozed from the lashing administered by the beast master. New welts and old scars mixed to cover the stallions flank. The stallion proudly tossed its head and snorted. She called to it. After a few moments of wooing it allowed her to place tiny hands on each side of his massive velvet head.
Her intent was to comfort the stallion. To speak soothing words and calm him so she could rest. But, something else happened. When Mikota closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, she saw with gut wrenching clarity his entire life from birth until the beating.
He was fouled in the Gray Mountains to free humans. People she did not know existed. After some sort of battle, the stallion was captured and brought to the king as a gift. She felt his burning desire to kill the beast master, his desire to escape and return to his human host. She saw the land from the Gray Mountains to Castle Machlag as clearly as if she walked every step herself.
When she pulled away from the stallion, she knew his name was Marick.
He also seemed comforted, calmer. Peace, not pain, radiated from his eyes.
Marick took many beatings over the months, never allowing anyone to gain his back. The beast master allowed him to live to breed the mares. Each beating after that night brought Mikota to his stall to sooth away the pain. And each time she became better adept at soothing and seeing his life replay over and over.
Even when Marick was not injured, Mikota found her way to his stall to touch and see all the places the stallion trod before capture. Places she did not know, yet places which planted a seed of hope in her heart.
The keening grew louder and drew Mikota from her thoughts. Some slaves saw things, or were forced to do things which broke their minds. Whatever the shifter did to Samanda, it was too much for the woman.
Perhaps it was best. If she were mindless, she could tell no one about the mark upon Mikota’s back. But Mikota pushed the thought away and reached out placing both small hands on Samanda’s blond head.
She closed her eyes.
Nothing happened.
She concentrated and still nothing.
Mikota cleared her mind and took a deep breath. She reached out with her thoughts. Samanda’s memories came fast and hard, in full color, smell, taste, and sound. Nothing like the gentle trickle of Marick’s memories.
The slave pens, the beatings, the hunger, the emotions, all tore through Mikota as if she were living it all at once. She pulled her hands away before seeing Samanda’s time with the king, not wanting to chance breaking both their minds.
She stumbled backward and ran for the chamber pot. Dry heaves ripped through her like a hot poker. Touching a human was nothing like touching the stallion. It was violent, fast, and disorienting and she would never do it again.
Gentle hands pulled hair back from her face as she leaned over the tarnished brass chamber pot.
“Here,” Samanda said and offered a wet rag. “Wipe your face.”
Mikota took the rag and looked at Samanda. “Are, are you well?”
Samanda smiled. Not the obscene farce of a smile she gave earlier, but a real smile brightening her eyes.
“I am,” she said with awe in her voice. “Nothing hurts. This is the first time in my life I can ever remember not having some sort of pain.”
“Good,” Mikota said wiping her face with the cloth.
“I won’t tell anyone about your mark Mikota,” Samanda said.
Mikota nodded, uncertainty filling her heart.
“I saw it you know,” Samanda said helping Mikota stand.
“Saw what?” Mikota said.
“Three diamonds rotating in the sky.” Samanda said.
“What?” Mikota asked.
“When you touched me Mikota,” Samanda whispered. “It was like I could see into another place. I saw three gold diamonds rotating together in the sky. They were glowing in the sunlight and peace like I have never known filled my soul. I couldn’t look away.”
“There are no diamonds in my past,” Mikota said wondering if perhaps she damaged Samanda’s mind with the touch. “And I have more problems in my present than I care to think about.”
Samanda gave a sad smile. She reached out and touched Mikota’s long brown hair. “I wish there was something I could do to save you Mikota. But it is our fate.”
Mikota swallowed the lump in her throat. She could take anger, indifference, and outright insanity. But she did not know how to respond to sympathy and kindness from another human. She shook her head. “It does not matter. My life is forfeit once the king sees this mark.”
Samanda looked toward the door. “I can help you with that,” she whispered. “But we must hurry the beast master will come soon.”
“How?” Mikota asked.
Samanda held a finger to her lips and walked over to the bedside table opening the bottom cabinet. Decorative jars of all kinds stood in the alcove. She moved several around before finally finding the one she sought.
“Here,” Samanda said and turned to face Mikota. “This should do it.”
“What is it?” Mikota asked.
“It is a salve which covers small imperfections. The king likes his virgins clean, rubbed down with scented oils, and without blemish. Since most slaves have some sort of blemish from beatings or illness, the beast master coaxed the alchemist to create something to cover the imperfections. But we must apply it now so it will dry.”
“Will it work?” Mikota said trying to stamp down the hope budding in her chest.
Samanda nodded. “Yes, I believe it will. Though you are very fair and the mixture may be a little darker than your skin. Unless the king takes you from behind, he will likely not notice.”
Hope shriveled to nothing in her chest. She may well be better off dead than at the mercy of the king’s appetites. But she was a slave and survival was the most powerful emotion she knew.
“So be it,” she said and let the red silk robe drop to the floor.