One of the guards stepped forward and gestured for Virryn to look up at him. She did so and, when the guard impatiently waved his hand in a circle to indicate she should continue, Virryn quickly responded with, “The Master asked that his prize goods be cleaned before they are presented at the halftime auction.”
The guard stared her down for a few moments and, to Virryn’s credit, she kept her gaze level and even.
“You’re a right nice looking one,” the guard said with a sleezy grin creeping across his reddish face. He looked back at his colleagues, “You boys know this one? She as feisty as she seems?” His hand reached out as if to grab her by the arm.
“Yeah Sarge, she’s one of them pets.”
The statement made little sense to Kre, but he saw the immediate shift in the sergeant’s attitude. His hand snapped back like it had been bitten by a snake and he shifted his gaze away. “What are you standing around here for,” he snapped angrily, “go do your blasted job.” He waved his hand angrily.
Virryn nodded curtly and turned her face downwards again. She stepped to the side and proceeded to the door. Kre moved quickly to follow behind but the guard stepped in his way and gave the same leering grin. “Well now, this one ain’t one of the boss’s pets, is she?”
Kre paused, unsure of what to do or say. He tried to catch Virryn’s eye to see if she had anything to offer for help, but she was already entering the room that acted as the slave pen as one of the two sentries held the door for her.
One of the other guards laughed and shook his head, “Nah Sarge. Never seen that one before. Maybe she’s brand new, if you know what I’m sayin’.”
“Lucky, lucky day,” the sergeant murmured. He slid his tongue along his teeth and made a disgusting sucking sound. “How about it?” he ran his finger along Kre’s arm, and the young man couldn’t help but shudder in response.
The slap came from out of nowhere. It was more speed than force, but the shock of it still sent Kre staggering to the side for a couple of steps. Luckily, his hands were clenched in anger so he never lost his grip on the basket. That could have been disastrous had all the linens and contraband been scattered across the floor.
“Next time I touch you,” the sergeant snarled, “you say ‘thank you’ with a smile on yer face you disgusting little elven whore. It’ll be the honor of your life to spend time with a Tehynshin man like me. Not like them elf boy-poppies.”
The guards laughed and murmured their own agreements. The sergeant chuckled along with them, happy that he was back to being respected again after the perceived slight to his manhood.
Kre wasn’t sure what upset him more, the fact that this group of his own countrymen were so vile in general, or the fact that they thought so little of the Ylveryan people that they weren’t even regarded as being anything more than pets and playthings.
The hand snapped out again except this time it wasn’t for a slap. The sergeant grabbed Kre’s chin and started to tilt it upwards. “We’re going to make a woman out of you today,” the sergeant said as his eyes darted lecherously across Kre’s face.
“Oh,” the sergeant said with a sneer and another lick of his teeth, “actually it seems we’ll be making a little poppy of you instead.”