Beast of Burden by Frederick K Foote

 In the marketplace, a couple of miles from my military base, a brown-skinned indigenous woman was walking with such grace and a mischievous face that she caught my eye, slowed my walk, and reversed my direction.

I fell into step with her. In a poor attempt at the local dialect, I asked if I could be of any assistance. In the Common Language, I offered to be her beast of burden, her shelter from sun or storm, her companion through thick and thin, and her friend until the end.

I had not noticed the young girl at her side until the double-digit-aged child snapped back, “You are surely a beast that would burden us unduly. You are the relentless sun and dark storms that require us to seek shelter. Your companionship is a cover for your quick thrust and done lust. As to your friendship, our association with you would truly leave us friendless.”

The graceful one intervened, “Sister, Little Sister, mind your manners. He’s a stranger in our land and custom demands; we welcome the stranger who offers an open hand.”

The Little Sister is quick with her response. “Dearest, Senior Sibling, these are invaders with Iron fist not open hands.”

“Little Sister, look closely. He is not ‘they.’ He is one man with a judicious eye and an open hand.” The lovely one turns to me. “Stranger, do you have a name that you care to share with  us?”

With my best smile, I replied, “Tam, from the apple orchards of the Berkshire Hills from the seventh planet of the seventh sun from Galaxy 102-GFY-2134.”

Little Sister snorted, “I bet your apples miss you very much. You should hurry back to them and take your comrades in arms with you.”

I ignored the sassy one, “And do you have a name that matches your beauty, grace, and wit?”

The ill-tempered teen pretended to vomit.

The elder sibling delighted me with a smile that would put the sun to shame. “I’m a Northern Zesta Nomad. My Queen is Luul. My Uncle is Asta Dawa. I’m Linx.”

We both turned to look at the spiteful one. She wagged her finger at me. “Dull-witted boy, toy soldier, feckless intruder, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a sister to Linx. You may address me as Su Filia.”

I had only been on this planet for a delightful six-month “vacation” from the Eastern Quarter Front, but I knew that “Su” is a term of respect required to be used by slaves and servants when addressing an upper-class person. I also know that “Filia” means sharp, pointed, quick, or severe. It is one of the names reserved for royalty. However, Zesta Nomads and Linx are new words to me.

Before I could say more, there was a disturbance immediately behind us. A vendor was beating his small donkey-like beast of burden with whip, hands, and feet. The animal was a walking skeleton with a shabby, scabby, rib displaying coat, eyes dripping pus, and half of its right ear missing.

In the blink of an eye, Linx has moved to and seized the thick wrist of his whip hand. The man outweighs Linx by some forty pounds. She was fearless as the animal beater raised his other hand in a fist. I was there by her side. Before he could throw a punch, I grabbed his other wrist.

The abuser ignored me. His full attention was on Linx. He was sweating. His face grew pale. I felt the trembling throughout his body. Tears rolled down his cheek as he muttered in a local dialect. We released our grips on him as he fell to his knees. He dropped the whip and prostrated himself on the ground before Linx.

A hushed, almost reverent crowd had gathered at a respectful distance away from the confrontation.

Su Filia had her hand on the decrepit beast’s forehead. The girl sang a quiet prayer as the light went out of the animal’s eyes, and it collapsed dead in its harness.

Linx took my arm and returned to the vendor we were attending before the incident occurred. I had a thousand questions that I was afraid to ask. How did she get to the vendor so quickly? Why did he react to her with such fear and reverence? Why did Filia kill the beast? How did she kill it? Who the hell are these women?

I needed to find a graceful way out of this encounter. These two were way out of my league.

“Good and just, Linx, I pray I have not offended a royal house.”

Su Filia spoke quietly, “Your presence on this orbiter is offensive to the air you breathe and the ground you defile with each step.”

Linx replied firmly, “He is only a man and a foreigner at that, but his heart is beating with bravery. He will walk a ways with us.”

Before Su Filia could respond, there was a shout in the Common Language from a male Vox Captain of the City Guard,  “Desert Witch, boney sand bitch, you have violated the terms and conditions of your city pass,”

There were two male and one female City Guards with drawn swords flanking their Captain.  

Su Filia started to respond, but her sister waved her to silence.

Linx addressed the Captain as she stepped forward to confront him. “Captain, restrain your troops, rescind your slurs, and pray I spare you and yours.”

The Captain snarled, “We fought and defeated you desert rats at the Sandstorm Battles in 62, and I will cut you down where you stand without a second thought.”

Linx smiled as she responded. “So be it. But first, cite me our purported violations of our City Pass.”

“Insolent bitch, you moved magically, and the pup sorceress took the life of a beast of burden with a magic hand trick. Your Pass prohibits the use of any magic inside the city walls.”

“Captain, you may cite us for such violations, but that is the extent of your authority. To attack us is to invite our lethal response in self-defense.”

And in the blink of an eye, Linx is speaking from behind the troops.

“Back here, Captain.” As the troops turned to face her, she reappeared in front of the guards.

The Guards were unnerved.

Many in the crowd started to melt away, praying as they fled.

Other onlookers hissed and spat in our direction. They egged on the confrontation.

The Captain signaled his men to sheath their swords. “Witch, under the City Code Section 2.01, I will escort you out of this city for violation of your City Pass, and under Section 2.2,  I cite you for four or more violations of your City Pass. Move, bitch.”

There was a standoff for a long moment, but Linx took our hands, and we started toward the main city gate.

We were between the hissing, jeering crowd and the armed Guards. I looked to Linx. She was calm, almost serene, as we walked forward into a hail of debris thrown from the crowd.

Linx pointed to a man about to sling a paving stone toward us. Our would-be assailant was paralyzed, and as Linx raised her finger, the man rose into the air, five, ten, twenty clicks into the sky.

All eyes were on flying man. There was not a sound from the throng until the sky rider burst into flames as bright as the sun.

It was madness and mayhem on the ground as the crowd stampeded, crushing and pummeling each other.

It took me a moment to realize that I was holding my breath. I looked back at the Guards behind us; they had vanished.

Linx said to me, “Tam, the city dwellers invited your armies to help them conquer us desert people. You have many victories but have not won the war. Soon, there will be an end to your presence here. None of you will survive.”

I was sweating, my heart was racing, and I wanted to twist my hand free and run like hell.

We stopped at the body of the beast of burden that we had tried to protect.

Linx told me to kneel.

I did, on shaking knees.

Linx kneeled beside me.

She placed her hand on my forehead.

“Tam, you have a good heart, and I will not see you destroyed.”

Su Filia said, “Sister, are you sure? Maybe he would rather—”

Linx cut her off, “Tam, you said you would be my beast of burden, and that will be your lot.” She placed her hand on the dead animal’s forehead.

Su Filia whispered in my ear. “You won’t be old and diseased. You will be young, strong, and well cared for.”

I tried to respond, but I could only bray like a beast of burden.

Frederick K Foote

Image by Michel Huché from Pixabay – Small grey donkey against a grassy prairie