6.

jewel

Poised and perfect, the men found her hanging from the ceiling in a giant cage.

They all stopped, lowering their guns and pulling up their night vision goggles, for the moonlight made her shine in ways almost unnatural. The men were all rugged soldiers, battle hardened and unmoveable. But for her, they shrank to their knees.

The country they were invading was harsh, desert alternating between blistering hot and numbingly cold. Snow would blow from the north, only to evaporate under the baking sun. This particular team had been brought to find the Jewel of the East, said to possess power unknown to any man. Their government had wanted it, and they were sent to retrieve it.

But this...they would not, could not have known.

Her skin was dark and shone, like copper burnished with silver. Her legs were long and lean, dangling from her perch. Heavily brocaded, her traditional clothing (consisting of a wrapped skirt, tunic and shawl that was wrapped around her in a complicated pattern) seemed to be made of pure gold, inlaid with glass and gems. Her face was pretty, if rather plain. She looked much the same as many of the women in the area, smooth of skin, sharp of nose and full of lip. Her eyes, however, held knowledge unfathomable. Bright and dark, they stared through the men, making them look away.

Her hair was swept back into a long, heavy braid. The color was black, but it shone so that it seemed to be an onyx mirror. It was threaded with ornate silver rings, large and polished, and unbound at the end. The last few strands of hair dangled from her perch, some ten feet from the floor of her cage, swept over the floor and curled around the bottoms of the delicate bars.

She tilted her head back and arched one sculpted brow.

The men all stared at her, unable to move or speak.

She gave a throaty chuckle and gave them all a coy look. She moved one slim hand, beckoning. The skin there was etched with silver, an intricate pattern.

One man stepped forward. The youngest, Peters. He licked his lips and spoke, hushed in the silence of the grand room. "You...are the Jewel of the East?"

Her voice was like a thousand bells, ringing softly. "I am. What would you ask of me?"

His blue eyes trailed over the bars of her cage. There were sculpted vines, and flowers. Each one had a sapphire as big as his thumbnail in the middle. "Are you...a weapon?"

This time her laughter was so sweet it was terrible, and all of the men winced at the beauty of it. "A weapon? Well, dear boy, I suppose you could say that. After all, not one of you could kill me, not even if you tried. And all of you would die, if only I asked it." She smiled softly at them, even though they were too busy looking at the floor to see it. "The power of a woman, the power of a beautiful jewel."

Peters nodded, soft and meek as a lamb. "Ma'am, we would ask you to come with us, to visit our country," they could never cage her, even her cage now seemed less of a barrier than her beauty, "and to become our weapon." He swallowed heavily.

She sighed, the sound of one hand slipped over the twisting links of her perch uncommonly harsh. "What is your name?"

He snapped his head up, almost shaking. "Peters, ma'am, Peters."

She smiled at him, even white teeth wonderful and everlasting. "Peters. If you kill the other men, I will come down and afford you a kiss."

He didn't even hesitate.