Labor's Love Lost 10

The next time that Ramo did see Mormo, was at the very intense funeral of their grandmother Rahani. It wouldn't have been such a remarkable event had her death been natural. But even a retired Steed breeder sometimes acquires enemies, and Ramo was off training with some of the other instructors when someone approached Rahani and strangled her. No one could even guess who it had been, there were footprints but they were inconclusive, there were hairs, but they matched almost everyone's in the place. Thus, it was decided by Ramo that no further investigation go on. He had to move on, there had to be something new for him.

But it was even more stressful when the will was opened.

If Tanirom resented Ramo for ‘killing' her sister, she would resent him even further for being the only blood relative in the Inheritance. Bonds were Raised, Slaves were Freed, one or two Worker friends were given land Holds. Ramo got the rest.

“How could she do this to me?” Tanirom screeched, her hard fingers breaking through the papers in her hand. She glared hard at Ramo, “it's all your fault.”

“Mother, please,” Mormo said quietly, the meek girl cringing suddenly when her own mother turned on her and flung those hard ended fingers across her face.

“Sit down, and be silent. This is between Ramo and I.”

“Why – why did you do that?” Ramo asked, looking at his cousin with worry. “She's done nothing wrong, where in the world did you learn to hit your children?”

“You wouldn't know, maybe your mother would have done it too, if she'd lived.” Tanirom spat, “you made her remove me, I know it.”

“I didn't know – I didn't expect it!” Ramo said. “I'd be more than happy to split it up, that's not how I would have wanted it!”

Clearly, Tanirom didn't believe a word he said. After all, he was only twenty, what did he know? He hadn't had a life of loss like she had!

In the six years since last they spoke, Tanirom's investments had begun to sour. Her original Steed workings already gone, the mines and tour businesses were hard with but one or two hired hands. She'd stopped using Bayaran, too distracted to pay them properly. Her Slaves were not so well off, either, there was one who actually died in the small Hold that she'd been left in – because Tanirom forgot she owned it.

“Did you want to look at the maps, and maybe see if there's something you -” Ramo started to say, but Tanirom stood abruptly and pulled her slender daughter's arm to yank her out of the seat.

“No, I don't. Come along, Mormo, we're going to live without them – as they've seen fit to live without us.”

“Mother – we – you broke off with them bef-” Mormo tried to say, her big eyes tearing up.

“They kicked us out of their lives, and now we're nothing to them! Nothing!” Tanirom growled, and pulled her daughter out of the room.

The Membayar who had done the work on the Inheritance reading sat behind her desk with a completely surprised, very fearful look.

“Was she … always like that?” She asked.

“No,” Ramo said, “I've seen recordings of her at Steed races and events, she was always quite nice, very professional.”

The Mistress was silent for a moment, and then she shrugged. “Well, BeastLord Ramo, you are now the Holder of some exceptional lands and businesses. Since there is no contest from anyone,” she glanced through the still-open office door, “it looks as though all you have to do is sign. There are no Bayaran or Slaves to be transferred, so you won't have to prove any Ownership rights.”

With a sigh, Ramo signed the paperwork and it was sealed again. He knew he'd have to sell off some of the properties, as he would never have enough time to really organize it and staff it. Someone else better suited for running a business would be great – now if he could only find one. He had other things on his mind. An offer to work with another Animal Master on her lands, to keep the feed ready, and another by someone else across the Land who needed his advice on how best to keep the poisonous plants in his Hold from creeping everywhere through the grazing fields.

But with those things in his mind, all he saw was Mormo's frightened, bruised face.

“Mother I don't want to,” Mormo said, as they walked through the tall walled offices of the Breed Lord. “I know it's a lot of money but I-”

“You don't want to see us in Bond, do you?” Tanirom said, sharply, still holding on to her daughter's wrist as per usual. It was almost as though she had an invisible leash on the poor young woman, dragging her around everywhere. No one had seen, in the last decade, one without the other quite nearby. Some wondered if Mormo ever got a moment alone, or did her mother do everything with her?

After losing the tour business – a disaster when one High Holder fell from the Steed he was riding, his family sued of course, and that was the last of the flying Steed tours in Tuer. It was also the last straw financially for Tanirom. She hadn't worked with Steeds since then, having to sell them all off to pay for the suit.

And then some. There were bills for moving, fines, safety fees that needed to be paid for years back, and all of those things could never be paid with the meager earnings of a girl who had never been trained in anything else. Mormo didn't even know the Steed trade properly, though she'd established her Status in Animal Mastery some many years before.

If anyone could have gotten close to her, without her mother there, they would have suggested she try and leave the insane woman. It was clear that Mormo was of two minds on this too – she did love her mother, and was so very concerned for her safety. But she was also terrified of her. She'd never known anything else, though. She didn't know how to live alone, and the prospect probably frightened her more than continuing on the way she was.

“Come along, come along,” Tanirom said. “The Breed Lord is waiting.”

With a cold dread in her stomach, Mormo clipped along with her bare feet – there were never shoes made for her, and she felt more comfortable without them anyway – behind her mother in the clinic. Bewildered at the prospect before her, Mormo really didn't understand why her mother was doing this.

Instead of being Bred herself, Tanirom was offering her daughter's ‘services' to the Breed Lord, in exchange for a considerable sum of money. Mormo knew that the Third Degree Breeder would be keeping her child – her child? – and that stung the young woman greatly. She wished she could find Ramo, just to ask him what he thought she should do.

But that was her great weakness too – because she hardly knew how to make up her own mind.

When Tanirom found the right door, she entered it and Mormo was pulled in behind. “We're here,” she said, and Mormo's heart began to pound.

“Well thank you for being prompt,” Breed Lord Nlaldes announced with a smile. He was an attractive man, but he, like many higher Status people, made Mormo nervous. Plus, she knew what he had in mind. “This is Bendill, he will be your partner for this pairing.” Though he was speaking to Mormo, only Tanirom replied.

“He's a Slave,” she said, “isn't that right?”

“Indeed, one of my better pieces of work.” The Breeder and Tanirom spoke about the contract, while Mormo was momentarily forgotten.

She and the Slave had the same fearful expression on their faces. He was quite attractive himself, though younger than Mormo by several years. She felt he was probably too young to be involved in such things. Mormo herself was only twenty four. Bendill was a fairly short young man, with even, black skin, brilliantly white short hair, and glowing red eyes. He did however have long ears which rose beside the nicely cut hair, and his fingers and toes were obviously mutated – they were fused similarly to the way Mormo's toes had been, only fleshy. A tech-mutated ‘elf', Mormo had heard of them mostly because she was often compared with them for her feet.

“Hello,” she said, softly. “I'm Mormo.”

A moment later, Bendill gave a small bow, “it is nice to meet you, Animal Mistress,” he said. He seemed very distracted. Mormo tried to smile and make him feel more comfortable, but then approached another step. Bendill reacted a half-second later, not quite the same as a Slave would have, but instead by holding his hands up briefly and then making a half-step to correct his position.

Mormo looked hard at him, then stole a glance back at her mother and the Breeder, and turned her voice low. “You're blind, aren't you?”

Bendill nodded a little, and whispered back, “yes, Mistress, I'm sorry.”

“It's hardly your fault, I think,” Mormo said. “… It's not you, but… I'm afraid. My mother is forcing me into this, I don't know what to do.”

“I wish I could suggest something, Mistress,” Bendill said, “but you're in a better spot than I am.” He smiled weakly.

Perhaps that was true, Mormo thought. But what, if anything, could she do about it? Could she just bolt for the door and run until she got away? Where would she go?

She'd often had little fantasies like that, but it was almost impossible to be alone, the only time she was, when she was ridding her bowels. Not even bathing was private for her, and sleeping in the same room was the norm in her small family. Her father had left to better keep his own sanity – and he'd tried to fight for her, but lost in a court.

Abruptly, both Tanirom and the Breeder turned to look at Mormo and Bendill, “ah, well now that you're acquainted, why don't you go ahead, there's a room here for you.” Nlaldes waved his pink-salmon colored hand at a door behind his desk, and was the faintest bit surprised when Tanirom stood and approached her daughter.

“Come along, you're going to need to guide the boy, he's blind you know.” She said.

The Breeder, fortunately, gave a clear cough with his deep voice and stopped Tanirom before she'd yet again gripped her daughter's wrist. “I do believe that they can do this by themselves, BeastMistress,” he said.

“Well she's never been with a man before,” Tanirom stated, as though that would clear it all up and make it possible for her to go with.

“Privacy,” Nlaldes asserted, “will give her all the inspiration she needs, I am certain. I am the expert in this matter, Beast Mistress,” he kept his eyes on Tanirom. “Bendill, door to your right, three paces. Mormo, the lights are directly beside the door. You may feel free to use whatever you find, if you wish. Take your time.”

Mormo took Bendill's thick fingers in her own, gently, and escaped into the darkness of the room beyond. They pushed the door shut, and to Mormo's delight she found that it locked.

It was not difficult to hear her mother's infuriated voice complaining that she should be there, to supervise.

Eventually, though, the Breeder's voice came through, muffled, “take whatever time you need, young ones, there is food and drink, and candles if you want to use them, Mormo. They've got a chemical in them that you might find enjoyable for this event.”

Then it was silent. She had turned the lights on to find a small, but nicely furnished room. It was decorated sparsely but with soft colors and the heavy scent of smoke and perfumes. A cold storage unit had wine, cheeses and other such things in it, and a cabinet was filled with oddly scented candles. While Mormo busied herself with those, Bendill scuttled carefully around the room familiarizing himself with the layout. A large bed in the center of the room made it perfectly clear what it was all about. The bathing room had a large tub and a big mirror, and it was there that Mormo began to undress.

She'd chosen a squat orange-colored candle, because it's scent did indeed intrigue her. She had no idea what was in the candles, but trusted that if a Breeder suggested it, she might as well use it.

“I'm … I'm undressing now, Bendill,” Mormo announced quietly.

“Yes, I can hear you,” the Slave said. “Should I?”

“… I think so,” Mormo said, “… Have you … done this before?”

As she slipped out of her dress, she saw him shake his head, “no Mistress, I have not.”

“Well, me either,” Mormo said. “I guess you heard mother say that anyway.”

It was strange, not getting cues from his eyes, since they were unfocused and remained in one steady direction. But Bendill's white lines of eyebrows were very expressive indeed. “Yes, I did. I … should not say it but I think she hurts you doesn't she?”

Mormo was silent. He hadn't the ability to see the eternal ring of dark brown where Tanirom would always grip around her wrist. Or, the many little scratches where her hooflike fingers had struck her face or shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror. She could use to gain some weight, her tail would probably confuse the Slave so she informed him that she had one.

By this time, the smoke from the candle had begun to filter through the otherwise clean air. Bendill sniffed at it, curious, and then realized that he'd grown an erection. His skin so black that no amount of blushing could be seen, he gave a private little smile and said, “I appear to have grown one myself. Do you mind if you show me yours?”

“Please,” Mormo said, “what can I do? You see how she treats me. You're the expert in such things…”

Breed Lord Nlaldes gave a little grunt, and adjusted himself while gently prodding Mormo's distended belly. “Mormo, your mother is clearly one of the most insane individuals that I've ever met. It is up to you to do something about her behavior around you. Tell her to stop.”

“She hurts me when I do that,” Mormo pleaded, and at that the Breeder stood straight up. He removed the gloves he was wearing and placed a sheet with care over her belly and chest.

“While you are pregnant?” He asked, a moment later. His tone was serious, “she hits you and she knows that you're pregnant.”

Mormo nodded, biting her lower lip and pulling herself to a seated position. There was nothing wrong with her pregnancy so far, except for a bit of imbalance in nutrients. Mormo gazed at the permanent bruising around her wrist, and showed it to the Breeder. “I think if she could, she would have me on a leash like a pet. But she drags me from place to place, room to room, by my arm. Always.”

“And she beats you if you protest.”

“Yes, sometimes with her hands, they're very hard… Her fingers are … very hard.” Mormo's voice was about to vanish. Nlaldes drew in a breath, and examined her back, shoulders and face, seeing the tell-tale signs of abuse.

“Mormo, if you were a Slave I would have to Free you – if she'd done it to a pregnant Slave. Do you understand?”

“I understand… I know what I … what I want to ask.”

“I think you need time to think this over,” the Breeder said. “Perhaps you could find an inn, stay a few nights alone.”

Mormo gulped. “Breed Lord, she'll be waiting outside for me to come home with her. I haven't anywhere to go. And I haven't any money for myself. She hovers around me day and night – we're running out of the money you've given for this birth!” She sobbed, “I think it's like all she wants to do is watch me, waiting for me to make a mistake.”

“She won't work?” Nlaldes asked, sitting down on the small stool nearby. Mormo shook her head, indicating that her mother had no job any longer. “Mormo, this is a very serious situation. I do not want to risk you – or the child you're bearing – in a situation where you are under such stress. But neither do I think you deserve the legalities of what –”

“ Please ,” Mormo whispered. “What would it take? How could I – I don't care if I'm a Slave to you, I'd work in whatever job you wanted me in! I just don't want to be a toy doll to her .”

Though her first impression of the Breeder was one of a blustery and arrogant Owner – as a Breeder Nlaldes was superbly attentive. A crease of concern drew his bushy golden eyebrows together. “Mormo, you would have to consent to lose your Animal Master Status, forego any Holdings and belongings you have.”

“But you would be able to let me work, I'd be able to walk around without her following me every minute…” Mormo cried, though her eyes were long since dry of tears – they had gone years ago. She wished they would come back, perhaps it would help sway the man's decision.

But it was not his, it was hers to make. And that next hour, with the completion of her third examination during her year long pregnancy, she also signed herself into Slavery to the Breed Lord.

Mormo never actually went back out from the exam room, that entire day. For while Nlaldes went in and out, finding paperwork and making calls to people he had to have check up on Mormo's Status and Holdings (which were admittedly a bit sparse, for one with such genetic potential), Mormo was claimed to be needing fluids and nutrients which were being provided. Every excuse possible was made so that Tanirom was not allowed inside the room with her. Mormo did sip at a juice drink and nibble at some more cheese that was given to her by one of the clinic's many Bayaran. But she cringed every time she heard voices.

Mostly, when her mother began to scream. At first it was a sensible line of reasoning. That Mormo clearly hadn't been the one to suggest this action, that the Breed Lord was trying to coerse her into becoming one of his Slaves. But with the signature on the paperwork (how they'd smuggled a Membayar in there to witness it was a feat in itself), Tanirom had to adopt another tactic, and that was to verbally begin taunting her daughter from the other side of the clinic door.

For hours, until late in the night, Tanirom chanted, pleaded, cursed, and begged for her daughter to be returned to her. Every once in a while, one of the Bayaran who managed the office would check on her, ask her to leave, and usually have to duck back inside quickly. This all meant of course that whatever other appointments Breed Lord Nlaldes had that day had to be cancelled or moved to another location. Preventing an important meeting with a Breeder was a crime – a serious crime in the case of an already-pregnant woman's appointment – so in the end the decision was made and Mormo could hardly believe that at last, her life would be her own.

Eventually, her voice hoarse, Tanirom was arrested.

And once she was gone, Mormo collapsed into Breed Lord Nlaldes' arms crying with the hot tears that would never come before.

“There there,” Mormo cooed to her infant girl Bormim. In a dim warm room, Mormo was the center of attention. Three other Slaves who were in varying stages of pregnancy were there with her, and powers – as well as instincts – long dead in the girl had come back to her.

When she passed by each woman they sat up straighter to get a look at the child, and it seemed that both mother and daughter glowed from within. The warmth in the chamber came from Mormo herself, the power that used to keep her surrounded by healthy plants as a child had returned. It also seemed to attract some number of small animals to her as well, so half the time people would be swatting away the brilliant beetles or shooing mouse-like creatures out of the room.

Bormim was healthy from birth, with richly dark green skin, silvered green hair with the same color gently bursting in tufts from her long ears, and red-violet eyes. It was clear that she could see, unlike her sire, but everyone guessed her vision would never be great. Her fingers numbered only two plus a thumb, and her feet had almost goat like split hooves upon them instead of toes. She was the pride and joy of Mormo, and when on occasion Bendill was allowed to visit he beamed with pleasure as well.

“So you like it here?” Asked the eldest of the Slaves, a woman named Peresh. “I still find it hard to believe what led you here.”

“It's true,” Mormo said. “And yes I enjoy my work, it's the first time I've ever been expected to do any, and at least I'm good at it…” Mormo's duties were all related to caring for the others, getting supplies and making sure that everyone was fed and cleaned. As a nanny she did a stupendous job. She did not dote upon anyone, nor did she ignore others. She had been moved from her childhood home of Tuer down to the more lushly populated Teklel.

She'd never seen such a big, beautiful place as Teklel. Of course, to hear them say it, there was no other beautiful place – perhaps aside from their sister city across the bay, Hisai. Both cities had been Zoned only two years before, but they had been quite large before petitioning for their new title. With wide, clean streets and some of the biggest buildings Mormo had seen, Teklel thrived on betting and industry in equal amounts. Hisai was where most of the Steeding was done, and according to the tourists that Mormo heard talking while she would go out for supplies, Hisai didn't have quite the same dark nighttime allure as Teklel.

Mormo was just happy she could walk down the street, head held high, for her Lord. A man who would never dream of hitting any woman, let alone one with a child. To be fair, he did treat her differently than his other Slaves. Knowing that most of them had been bought or Bred by him, they were investments. She was a curiosity, a special case.

Peresh shrugged, “I don't see the big deal. Any of us could go out and shop. We can all add and barter.” The others nodded.

“And you've been allowed to,” Mormo reminded her. “And if I asked, you could all come with me, I would bet.”

“Well, some day I would bet you won't have the same position in our Lord's eye as you do now,” Peresh said, sliding down to rest, “and when that day comes you'll just be another Slave like the rest of us.”

With Bormim fussing, Mormo took that as an opportunity to leave the others, and go to the dorm where she lived. This house was a special location that Nlaldes Held, fit for a dozen guests the only people who lived in it were Slaves and Bayaran. All women and their partners or children. Since Bendill had his own job within Nlaldes' organization, he had his own room in the Lord's main estate. Treated with care, the blind tech-elf was an asset that anyone would be jealous of.

When Mormo reached the shared room, one other Slave was still awake. “Ayali?” She whispered, putting Bormim into her bed and snuggling beside her.

“Yes, Mormo?” The red-skinned Slave replied.

“Do you know why Peresh is so …”

“Bitter?” Ayali chuckled, “yes, I do. She's been bought and sold I think five times in her life, and she's not much older than I am.”

“But why?” Mormo pressed, “is she bitter because she can't keep an Owner happy, or sold because she's bitter?”

“Both, dear, both…” Ayali turned over, pulling her blanket with her. “Peresh had a miscarriage for her first pregnancy, with another Breeder. She's had three children since then, but none of them have even known her name. I think that's why. She doesn't get what every other mother gets.”

“A chance to raise her child,” Mormo said, and hugged Bormim to her breast. “Do you think that Breed Lord Nlaldes will sell Bormim out from me?”

She heard the other woman sit up a bit, leaning on her elbow. “I think that will depend on what she can do, Mormo, if she's got abilities he can use, like Bendill's, she will stay. I've seen many though, that are given off to other nurses.”

“Oh.” Mormo said, a little cold inside.

“But Mormo, don't you see?” Ayali chuckled again as she lay down, “you are the other nurse, that's your job, to take care of our babies when we're back at our jobs.”