Closed for Vailyn
"Milord?"
My shoulders hunched at the intrusion. "Yes, Daphne?"
"The new arrivals are here, milord."
"Very good. I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Yes, milord."
I turned back to my painting. I was still a novice at oils, but was enjoying the new challenge. I paused after a moment. My kind has keen senses of hearing and smell, so I could tell that Daphne hadn't left the doorway. I felt the muscles in my heavy shoulders tense. "Yes, Daphne?"
"What should I do with them, milord?"
I sighed. Daphne was a sweet-natured girl with barely the brains the gods saw fit to give a sheep. No wonder her parents shipped her off to me.
"They're servants, Daphne. Like you. Have them wait. That's their job."
As always, Daphne's warm chirp of a voice showed her completely oblivious to my irritation. "Yes, milord." I heard her feet pivot on the stone floor and then she skipped away.
I groaned. Daphne always made me wonder if Uncle Max's old school approach made more sense. He'd have gored young Daphne ages ago rather than put up with her prattle.
But I was trying not to establish that minotaurs were not the mindless brutes that so many a campfire tale. So I tolerated one servant with a penchant for cluelessness. Besides, goring a human created such a mess.
I could tell I wasn't going to be able to focus on painting, so I set down my brush. My hooves clattered against the stone floor as I rose from my stool. I rolled my mighty shoulders and arched my thick neck; I'd been sitting too long. Might as well check on the new arrivals.
I had to duck slightly as I exited the room. This castle had been built by humans a couple centuries ago, so the doorways were often a bit low. I had the better part of a foot in height on the largest men in the county and some of the smaller passageways only just accommodated me.
My footsteps clonked down the hall, giving warning of my impending arrival. Minotaurs were not known for their stealth. Sure enough, the seven young women all exhibited various signs of fear and trepidation as I entered.
Not that it wasn't somewhat warranted. Being half man and half bull, I towered over the tallest of them. My body was covered by dense, short hair that made it easy to see the thick cords of muscle in my torso and legs. Had I a mind to, I could readily snap their spines like twigs.
Uncle Max had often done that just on principle. He'd first set up the Accord ages ago that was the purpose of these new arrivals. Every year, the surrounding towns in the county sent seven maidens as sacrifices and in exchange Uncle Max would spare them any murderous rampages. A bloody bargain, but it served both parties.
I'd have foregone the murderous rampages unilaterally, but apparently the Accord came with the castle. So with seven young humans showing up on my doorstep each year, I'd turned them into servants instead. The occasional Daphne irritation aside, it worked out well. They kept the castle clean and invariably at least one of them was a decent cook.
Moreover, since I imposed only a five year term of service and in the past decade almost all of the prior servants had survived their terms, being a "sacrifice to the minotaur" wasn't a bad gig for the maidens.* Most ate better food and wore better clothes serving me than they could otherwise afford. Rumor had it that there was a certain amount of competition for the seven positions.
Certainly the quality of of young women I received had improved. No longer did I get maidens solely from the poorest households or who were too homely to be married off. Now I could usually count on fairly attractive females and some from the wealthier families in the district.
It mattered little to me. As Daphne routinely demonstrated, being pretty and privileged did not guarantee good service. But one moron amongst the dozens was a tolerable enough.
I stalked into the front hall where the latest crop awaited. All appeared fit and healthy, though most kept their eyes downcast as I approached. Natural instinct prompted wariness around a strange creature twice their size.
"I am Lord Bain," I announced. "As of this moment, you belong to me. I generally free those who serve me well after five years. Those who do not....," I trailed off, letting them fill in their own nightmarish fates.
"Now step forward and tell me your name and which village you are from."
"Milord?"
My shoulders hunched at the intrusion. "Yes, Daphne?"
"The new arrivals are here, milord."
"Very good. I'll be down in a few minutes."
"Yes, milord."
I turned back to my painting. I was still a novice at oils, but was enjoying the new challenge. I paused after a moment. My kind has keen senses of hearing and smell, so I could tell that Daphne hadn't left the doorway. I felt the muscles in my heavy shoulders tense. "Yes, Daphne?"
"What should I do with them, milord?"
I sighed. Daphne was a sweet-natured girl with barely the brains the gods saw fit to give a sheep. No wonder her parents shipped her off to me.
"They're servants, Daphne. Like you. Have them wait. That's their job."
As always, Daphne's warm chirp of a voice showed her completely oblivious to my irritation. "Yes, milord." I heard her feet pivot on the stone floor and then she skipped away.
I groaned. Daphne always made me wonder if Uncle Max's old school approach made more sense. He'd have gored young Daphne ages ago rather than put up with her prattle.
But I was trying not to establish that minotaurs were not the mindless brutes that so many a campfire tale. So I tolerated one servant with a penchant for cluelessness. Besides, goring a human created such a mess.
I could tell I wasn't going to be able to focus on painting, so I set down my brush. My hooves clattered against the stone floor as I rose from my stool. I rolled my mighty shoulders and arched my thick neck; I'd been sitting too long. Might as well check on the new arrivals.
I had to duck slightly as I exited the room. This castle had been built by humans a couple centuries ago, so the doorways were often a bit low. I had the better part of a foot in height on the largest men in the county and some of the smaller passageways only just accommodated me.
My footsteps clonked down the hall, giving warning of my impending arrival. Minotaurs were not known for their stealth. Sure enough, the seven young women all exhibited various signs of fear and trepidation as I entered.
Not that it wasn't somewhat warranted. Being half man and half bull, I towered over the tallest of them. My body was covered by dense, short hair that made it easy to see the thick cords of muscle in my torso and legs. Had I a mind to, I could readily snap their spines like twigs.
Uncle Max had often done that just on principle. He'd first set up the Accord ages ago that was the purpose of these new arrivals. Every year, the surrounding towns in the county sent seven maidens as sacrifices and in exchange Uncle Max would spare them any murderous rampages. A bloody bargain, but it served both parties.
I'd have foregone the murderous rampages unilaterally, but apparently the Accord came with the castle. So with seven young humans showing up on my doorstep each year, I'd turned them into servants instead. The occasional Daphne irritation aside, it worked out well. They kept the castle clean and invariably at least one of them was a decent cook.
Moreover, since I imposed only a five year term of service and in the past decade almost all of the prior servants had survived their terms, being a "sacrifice to the minotaur" wasn't a bad gig for the maidens.* Most ate better food and wore better clothes serving me than they could otherwise afford. Rumor had it that there was a certain amount of competition for the seven positions.
Certainly the quality of of young women I received had improved. No longer did I get maidens solely from the poorest households or who were too homely to be married off. Now I could usually count on fairly attractive females and some from the wealthier families in the district.
It mattered little to me. As Daphne routinely demonstrated, being pretty and privileged did not guarantee good service. But one moron amongst the dozens was a tolerable enough.
I stalked into the front hall where the latest crop awaited. All appeared fit and healthy, though most kept their eyes downcast as I approached. Natural instinct prompted wariness around a strange creature twice their size.
"I am Lord Bain," I announced. "As of this moment, you belong to me. I generally free those who serve me well after five years. Those who do not....," I trailed off, letting them fill in their own nightmarish fates.
"Now step forward and tell me your name and which village you are from."
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