Angel of Mercy

In a few minutes it was over. Where there had been seven men, there was now only one woman. The rest lay on the floor, some cradling wounds, a few motionless. Bill still hadn't moved. Seven against one, thought Walker incredulously. No expert can win against such odds. This is no normal woman. This is ... this is ... thinking hurt too much.

Even the slave seemed wide-eyed by the performance. On any normal day she would have been brutally punished for neglecting her duty, but today the boss paid her no attention. Instead he pushed her aside and stood up, his hand grasping a pistol. "Woman," he said, his voice poisonous. "I am an expert marksman. I took all these heads you see on the wall. Personally." He indicated with a wave the rabbits, foxes and antelopes he had hunted. There was even a lion, its face locked in its dying snarl. "There are 20 meters between you and I. I have six bullets in this gun. You will die if I fire. No sudden movements. Raise your hands above your head."

For a long moment, the woman was still. Walker could feel the tension in the air. Slowly and grudgingly, the woman raised her arms to chest height, but then she seemed to reconsider, and lowered them. For another long moment, nothing happened. Then the boss pointed at the lion. "Look." There was a loud bang, and then one tooth was rolling on the ground, sheared off neatly at its base. "Last chance. You have five seconds." When the woman still did not move, he started counting. "One ..."

The woman waved her hands furiously. No sudden movements, thought Walker, frightened. The gun fired again, and suddenly the woman disappeared from view. He thought she had gone down, but the next he knew, she was right in front of the boss, the boss was grasping his wrist, and the gun was clattering across the floor. But that's impossible! The boss never misses. Besides, not even Usain Bolt can cross 20 meters in a second. Walker glanced at the back wall, but there were no bullet holes. Where had the bullet gone? What's going on? Who am I?

The woman picked her sword up, drew it, and laid the blade to the boss's neck. "You will release all the slaves you own," she said coldly. "You will clothe them, feed them and return all their possessions. You will give them free choice of your possessions, which they shall take with them. Where their livelihoods have been destroyed by your actions, you will compensate them." She stared straight into the boss's eyes. "Or I will kill you."

Walker had seen enough. He buried his head in his hands, crying like a baby.

Part 4

For the first time in years, Margaret felt alive. The air was clean and fresh, the scenery beautiful. And she was clothed. The clothes she had been taken in had long been destroyed, but she had found new ones. Her breasts felt a little awkward to be covered once again -- there were no bras her size -- but the scratchy feeling had never been so welcome.

She thought back to the morning. She had known something was wrong when the alarm went off, but she had not dared to watch as the woman pummelled the guards. The Master was fond of inventing reasons to discipline her; her breasts still bore the marks of the last whipping. She had obediently deep-throated the Master and endured his groping hands, but eventually the agonizing screams had been too much to bear, and she had allowed herself a peek. Fortunately, the Master was just as distracted as she was.

Afterwards the woman had made her responsible for her fellow slaves' welfare. "Make sure everyone returns to their dwelling unmolested," she had said. "Make sure everyone has enough gold to survive." Margaret had turned the mansion upside down to find outfits for everyone, but eventually everyone had clothes on their backs and a cheque for ten thousand pounds. Most were crying tears of joy. She could tell that the Master was livid, but there was nothing he could do. "You will neither pursue your former slaves nor procure new ones," the woman had told the Master just before they left. "Or I will kill you." And just like that, Margaret had left the place she thought she would die in for the last four years.

It was a strange crowd that passed through the gates. Many were weeping, some excitedly making plans, others exchanging names with people they'd known for years but never really knew. The woman pulled Margaret aside. "Accept this," she said, proffering a necklace. There was single green jewel set in it. "Wear this on your body. It will respond to its bearer. Should you be in difficulty, ponder of me, and the colour will shift with you. Show me yellow, and I will find my way to you when I have time. Red, and I will be with you in the shortest possible instant." She smiled tiredly. "Should I perish however, the colour shall fade, and you will be alone."

Her gaze was faraway, her manner somehow forlorn. "Go, now, and ensure all your children are safe and prosperous." She indicated the former slaves.

"My lady," Margaret blurted as the woman turned to leave. She still didn't know how to address her, but she had to know. "Who are you?"

The woman gave Margaret a sad smile. "A sorceress," she said softly, "from across the stars. My home was destroyed in part because of my error, and now I travel the cosmos, atoning for my previous faults. Pure fortune brought me to you, even permitting me to bait all of David Cameron's men to the same place and defeat them at once."

"The fight ..." Margaret began, but the woman cut her off.

"I am a sorceress," she said simply. "The strength of a bull, the grace of a cat, the splendour of an eagle -- all are part of my trade. I would be a poor sorceress indeed if I cannot protect my body." She stared longingly at the skies. "I will never be able to go home, so make happy with what you have."

Alien. Margaret found herself at loss of words. "But why ...?" Margaret asked, almost inaudibly.

"I am cursed to wander the stars," the woman answered, "growing ever fairer and more terrible. Pray that you never meet me again, for I may be unrecognizable if you do." She pressed a hand to her breast. "Now go."

Epilogue

Margaret returned to her family, who were astounded the mother they'd lost for years had suddenly reappeared. Dark though her past had been, they accepted her with welcome arms, and she lived long and happily. Less so some of the other victims, who suffered trauma and rejection. In the end it came to litigation. Even the boss's well-placed friends could not extinguish the flames caused by the scandal, but in the end human nature did what humans could not. Nobody wanted to recount the gory details before a jury, and the boss managed to settle the case out of court, albeit only with millions of pounds as compensation.

The boss fell into a period of foul moods and fouler thoughts, reminiscing about what was and wondering about what might have been. Often he would think about laying elaborate traps then luring the woman back, before somehow defeating her. However, it is hard to defeat something one does not understand, and he never put his plans into action. Restless, he eventually wandered the world, deeply scarred by the ethereal experience.

Walker worked for the boss a while longer, tending the mansion and garden, but eventually resigned and took up an honest job. He became fervently religious, telling everyone that God had once sent an angel to correct him from his evil path before he went to hell. For a while he refused to touch women, but finally relented, married, and fathered several children.

Diane never realized how close she had come to a life of eternal slavery.

As for the woman, she disappeared. Perhaps she still wanders the stars, seeking redemption, shining radiantly on one world before travelling to the next. Or perhaps she returned to her home someday, or if her home has been destroyed, to wherever her family and people are. We may never know. Margaret would ultimately decide that the woman's strange speech was due to imperfect translation magic, but although she would occasionally experiment with the jewel the woman left behind, she never tried to change its colour, and it continues to glow green.