Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Word: Myrmidon





Myrmidon

[mur-mi-don, -dn]
noun, plural Myrmidons, Myrmidones
[mur-mid-n-eez] (Show IPA)
1. Classical Mythology. one of the warlike people of ancient Thessaly who accompanied Achilles to the Trojan War.
2. (lowercase) a person who executes without question or scruple a master's commands.

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               “Titia, come here.” Said Lord Hector.
                A slight but very pretty young woman approached him.  She wore a fairly standard maid’s uniform, save for the collar, which was slightly too high.  There was something about her eyes though.  They seemed dead somehow.
                “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Hector asked.  He held her by the chin and stroked her skin, like he was petting an animal.
                “She is.” Peter answered.  “Where did you find her?”
                “Oh, some little backwater village.  She was wasting her life as an herbalist’s apprentice.  I’ve put her to much better use, really.”
                Peter thought it was the other way around.  With her soft, gentle features, he could see her doing very well as an herbalist. 
                “I’m sure.  But it doesn’t look like she’s very happy here.  Is there anything wrong with her?”
                “Nothing wrong, no.  And she came with me just fine.”
                “I see.  You know, I’ve heard that young ladies from small villages have problems with obedience when put into positions of service.”
                “Titia has no such problems, I assure you.  She follows my every command to the letter.”
                Peter would have been impressed with the claim, if it were not for the look in the young woman’s eyes.  There was something more to this, he felt sure of that.
                “Really now?  Such loyalty is impressive, especially in one so young.”
                “Loyalty has nothing to do with it, I assure you?”
                “Than what is it?”
                “Titia, show him.”
                Titia pulled down the cloth covering her neck.  There was a band of metal around her neck.  Intricate runes were deeply etched into the metal, and the entire thing seemed to be coated by a thin layer of glass, or some other clear substance.
                “Is…is that what I think it is?” Peter asked in a hushed voice.
                “Indeed.  A genuine slave collar.  Magnificent, isn’t it?”
                “Aren’t those illegal?”
                “Technically, yes.  But, my good, sir, such things are hardly a problem.  Laws, you see, are for the general populous.  It makes them feel safe.  Like they matter, and that someone is taking care of their needs.  It has no bearing on those in our position.”
                “I see.” Peter had to fight to remain in his seat.  There was no part of him that agreed with his heavy-set host.  Still, it was best to play the part.  For now.  “Aren’t they hard to get?”
                “It can be a bit tricky, yes.  Not many want to risk making them.  But once you find someone, you can get as many as you want as long as you have the coin to pay for them.  Me?  I have five more just like Titia here.”
                “Six?  You really have six of them?”
                “Oh yes.  And my wife has three.”
                Nine.  Nine people forced into slavery by the lord and his wife.  It was unspeakable what they had done.  Peter took a few moments to compose himself.
                “Are the rumors about the collars true then?”
                “Of course they are.  As long as Titia wears her collar, she’ll do anything I ask without hesitation.  I told you where I found her, right?  Well, when she was there, she was too…too nice.  Not a wicked bone in her body.  Now she’ll gut a man like a fish without blinking if I tell her to.”
                Peter’s blood ran cold.  “And have you?”
                “Have I what?”
                “Had her kill anyone?”
                “No, of course not.  Titia is too frail for that.  Besides, I like to keep one girl with a bit of innocence.  No, I have another slave that’s much better suited to eliminating those who displease me.  She’s an assassin, you know.  Used to work for the highest bidder.  Now that I’ve collared her, she works only for me.”
                “And you’ve had that one commit murder?”
                “Murder is what peasants do.  I have her eliminate those who get in my way, that’s all.”
                “Will the courts see it that way I wonder?”
                “Who cares what the courts say, really.  I practically own the courts.  I’m sure you’re the same in your domain.  It’s what separates us from the common folk, you know.”
                “Ah, yes.  Of course.  I understand completely.”
                “I thought you would.  Titia, we’re done with you now.  Leave.”
                The young slave left the room without a word.  Peter watched her leave out of the corner of his eye.  Hector continued to talk about things he felt were important for being a lord.  Peter only half listened and provided a few words here and there.  He was actually looking for a chance to leave the man’s estate.  He had been after Hector for years, and only now did he have enough evidence.  Peter, enforcer for the courts, would show Lord Hector just how much sway the law really had.
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Sorry  I didn't use that first definition there.  That probably would've been cool.  Instead you get this.  I hope you can forgive me this transgression.  

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