Chains and Ladders

“Melek Kul, please step forward.” The Janissary stepped forward from beside the Sultana’s side. Several of his peers flanked her as she sat on her litter, her form obscured behind curtains. The young unicorn stepped up to face the Janissary, trying his best not to be intimidated.

I’d like to kill him. Please?

“Yes, sir.” Melek saluted. The Janissary, Captain Mustafa, suddenly drove a hoof right into Melek’s face. Melek took the shot without flinching, refusing to fall. Mustafa grinned.

That wasn’t really fair, was it?

Melek ignored the voice of the demon in his head. This was a just a test, and tests were not always fair. To show weakness was to die.

Which is why you should let me aid you. We can be stronger.

“You stand accused of blasphemy and apostasy. What say you?” Mustafa’s face turned serious.

They’ll strangle you. Imagine your tongue rolling out as you claw for breath. Let me deal with them, then you never need fear death again.

“I am no apostate.” Melek replied forcefully. He kept his gaze locked on his opposite, who betrayed no emotion.

Because they’ll certainly believe you. Oh, you’re not? Well, trial’s over, everypony go home.

“Is that so?” a gentle voice floated down from the litter. To Melek’s surprise, the Sultana emerged and trotted down to stand next to the Captain.

This one is a viper. She’ll gladly kill you for pleasure. But perhaps you can make yourself useful to her.

“I am not worthy, Your Highness.” Melek bit his lip nervously. He hated the voice that tormented him. He had prayed for hours for deliverance, but Taus did nothing. That was why he had cursed the false god. It was only bad luck that he had been overheard.

You could always let me help you.

“Are you sure?” The Sultana’s voice hardened. “I cannot have a member of my household being a blasphemer. But to lie to me is an even worse crime, slave.”

There’s that word again. Slave. Let me break your chains.

“I have never wavered in my faith to you, Sultana.” Melek responded.

That wasn’t really the question, but well done.

“To me?” The Sultana’s brow raised. “But what of Taus?”

Well done! The Sultana has no love for Taus.

“I belong to you, Sultana.” Melek answered. Captain Mustafa smiled as he exchanged a quick glance with the Sultana.

Now we can kill her while her back is turned.

“Good. Don’t forget it.” the Sultana turned and walked away. Melek made no move as she left the room.

A pity. I was looking forward to breaking her pretty little neck.

“Return to your post, Janissary.” Mustafa dismissed Melek. As he walked away, Melek smirked.

“Sir, the enemy has hidden in the cellars!” Ibrahim Kul, a brown coated and maned Saddle Arabian reported to Melek Kul. Both were clad in Janissary armor, with red and gold prominent. Melek pondered the new information.

Burn them out, like little rats!

“Burn the houses.” Melek replied bluntly. Ibrahim gasped.

Very good.

“Sir! They have mares and foals!” Ibrahim reeled as Melek snorted at him.

Rebels get no mercy.

“They are rebels.” Melek replied. He had been ordered to suppress the rebels in this remote town, and he fully intended to see it done. Melek was about to do it himself, but paused as he sensed the demon’s glee.

I could help you do it better.

“But sir!” Ibrahim protested weakly.

Burn this one with them. He has no spine.

“Offer them terms first.” Melek relented, blinking several times. He felt the demon’s disappointment. Why had he been so eager to kill these farmers?

Because you are a killer. Just like me.

That was what they were. Just a bunch of farmers who had defended themselves against some rapacious bandits. They didn’t know that those bandits had been the Sultan’s Sipahi guard, and that by protecting themselves they had invited his wrath. Now they huddled in the cellar, clutching at what possessions they had managed to take with them.

Does it matter? Just take what is yours. Only the strong survive.

Melek shook his head.

So stubborn… well, let us see the result.

Several minutes later, Ibrahim and the others dragged a small group of bloodied peasants forward. Melek noticed that only females were present.

“They surrendered, sir.” Ibrahim swelled with pride.

Iblis would like that

“The stallions?” Melek asked.

They’re just around the corner, of course.

“Slaughtered, as Taus demands!” Ibrahim boomed, laughing. Melek realized now why he hadn’t wanted to burn them. It wasn’t mercy; Ibrahim just wanted the chance to rape the mares. As Melek looked, he saw that the mares were trembling, and had blank expressions. Evidently, Ibrahim and his stallions hadn’t waited to claim their prize. Even the foals seemed to have been abused. While Ibrahim drove the slaves forward, making sure to harass the foals, Melek turned away.

This is your mercy, slave.

Melek knew all about the verses that allowed stallions to take mares as slaves. He had heard the phrase “that which your right hoof possesses” more times than he cared to remember. Still, he didn’t like it. Maybe it was because he wasn’t really Saddle Arabian, like the old timers had argued when he had been accepted to the Janissaries. Maybe he wasn’t really cut out for this.

Or maybe you should just enjoy it.

“No.” Melek whispered. “I’m not like that.” Melek had grown up reading about Equestrian values, mostly through the spell and language books that his owners had him read. He had tried talking about it when he was younger, but that only earned him lashes. Besides, Equestria did nothing to help these ponies. Celestia was no better than Taus.

Then stop them.

Melek tried to ignore the screaming and crying as they camped that night.

Melek and Ibrahim stood only a few lengths away from each other, each wearing their armor and wielding a sword in their mouth.

Want my help? Not that you’ll really need it against this fool.

“You coward.” Ibrahim taunted Melek as the pair circled each other. “You think you can deny me my just reward?” Melek didn’t respond.

He did earn that girl by killing her father.

Ibrahim jumped forward and swung, but before his sword could connect he crumpled to the ground with a dagger in his neck. Melek sheathed his sword with magic, then removed his dagger. The Janissaries around him held their breath in anticipation.

Speak, then.

“There will be no taking of slaves. Leave them be.” Melek warned his subordinates, who scattered.

How boring. You think you’re so good? Who decides good and evil? These peasants will starve without their stallions. You’ve doomed them to a slow death.

“I will not listen to you.” Melek muttered under his breath.

You will one day.