Ranma nodded, rotating one shoulder that felt a little stiff.
The martial artist stretched out briefly, glancing at the two marks burned into his forearms. Then, without a second glance, he turned and walked away from his father to where his new lodgings for the next five years had been secured.
When his father and he had come to this world, it had been one set of problems after another. Finally though, his father had adapted to the situation and done something about it.
He'd sold his son off as a mamluk candidate.
Ranma had fought his way through several different sets of tests, and had been examined by a very attractive woman doctor. As she was fairly well placed, and apparently her daughter had been bullied, she became his Sponsor and a contract was filled out. There were apparently some social-status and socioeconomic benefits the doctor thought to reap. Ranma hoped they'd worked out as he knew the training hadn't been cheap.
Upon reaching his sixteenth birthday, he would enter service as her daughter's slave. Not a full use slave. Mamluk was the official designation, slave-soldier or janissary. Yojimbo was the specialty.
Genma had apparently learned of the legal benefits and values of having a son who was of a particularly respected and in-demand service. Slave-soldiers typically signed for a five year contract, and were something between the old samurai and something of a fulltime bodyguard. During Ranma's training he'd continued to be tested over and over again.
He'd met his future Mistress on a few occasions. She was cute, nice, and way too vulnerable looking. Oh well, at least guarding her wouldn't be TOO harsh.
As mamluk and yojimbo especially, Ranma was put through very intense and often painful training. He was now far deadlier than the child he'd been.
Now he'd go and begin the five-year service, part of his training had been paid for on a monthly basis by the girl's mother. It was an honor thing.
As for his old man, well, being a mamluk-yojimbo wasn't too bad considering what might have happened. His status at least meant his duties were pretty much writ in stone and he didn't have to do a lot of crap. His job included some "guy friday" activities but nothing he'd normally object to and his main job, keeping the Mistress alive, wasn't necessarily that big a deal. Unless she were Yak (and they tended to use their own hired muscle) daily death threats just were not that common.
As it was, he'd met the little girl he was supposed to guard, and he was guessing it was the "guy friday" she was mainly after. While he wasn't great at it, his training had included a wide variety of activities that were not involved in fighting. He sort of remembered her, hiding behind her mother at first. They'd briefly played that day, and it had been fun drawing the shy little one out of her shell.
Now it was as slave and Mistress that he was to run into:
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(Posted Tue, 10 Aug 2004 05:58)
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