Mind Games

Prologue:

       This close to Riviera the path was wide and well-kept enough to ride easily, but the stranger was on foot, leading a dappled gray horse by the harness.  The stranger walked slowly but with some purpose, his hat tilted so his eyes would be shaded and could seek out some distant goal.  The morning sun was strong and hot, and from time to time he wiped his face with a fraying handkerchief gray with dinge.

       A small breeze rose from the west.  The stranger halted his horse and listened for a moment to a sound beyond the rustling of the leaves.  He pushed his hat back on his head as if to give his ears more room.  The sound was almost like a coyote; no, it was the baying of dogs.  The stranger gave a small shrug and a half smile to his horse, and continued on his way.

       He took note of the changing landscape.  Several days ago he had left the old growth forest, with its redwoods that reached impossibly towards the sky and plenty of soft, loamy dirt between the trees.  The newer woods that he had passed through were full of undergrowth and tangled bushes that encroached upon the path, with acres of clearcut scattered here and there.  He had picked up the old road in those woods.  But now the forest began to have an air of planning about it; at spots old oaks and spruces lined the path on either side as if someone had deliberately put them there for shade.  He thought hopefully that he would reach Riviera very soon.

       The dog sounds came nearer, until the stranger could hear them quite plainly despite the plodding of his horse's hooves and his own footfall.  He did not hear the girl, however, until she stumbled out of the forest almost directly in front of him.  He involuntary jumped back, bumping lightly into his horse's nose.  The girl, too, jumped back, and for a heartbeat they stared at each other, each as if the other was an animal upon whose lair the other had encroached.

       Indeed, in that heartbeat the stranger felt an untameness about the girl.  He was jolted with a sick metallic taste in his mouth by the scars, cuts and bruises which riddled every visible inch of her body, save her face, before his mind even became aware of her nakedness.  

       The slight breeze lifted the girl's dark hair, matted and dotted with brambles.  Her eyes were green within green, and for that moment she looked at him as he felt a queen of old might have.  

       The heartbeat passed and in a fluid movement the girl fell to her knees before him, continuing down until her forehead touched the dirt of the path.  The baying of the dogs sounded again and he understood that she was the prey.

       "This slave begs your mercy," the girl said, her voice rough from the exertion of her running.  Although she cowered before him, he could see that her muscles strained.  She was poised to flee.  A dog barked close, too close.

       "I won't hurt you," the stranger said.  "I won't turn you in."  His voice was gravelly and rough, as if he was unused to speaking, and his words had an odd twang. 

       The girl looked up at him, for a moment, her face incredulous.  As quickly the light in her eyes dimmed, like a cloud moving over the sun.  "A mindgame," she said, breathless and bitter.  "You've caught me, master.  I won't play."  She again bowed her head until her forehead touched the path, and waited, motionless. 

       The dogs sounded closer.  The stranger looked towards them, and then back at the prostrate, scarred figure before him.  "Listen to me," he said urgently.  "A quarter mile back, just beyond where the path curves, there's a stream.  The dogs might lose your scent in the water."

       For precious moments the girl did not move.  Another dog bark.  "Go," the stranger urged her.  She raised her head again and looked at him until he was pierced by her gaze.  Then, quiet as thought, she was on her feet, running past him down the path and veering slightly into the woods on her right.

       For a moment the stranger stood motionless.  Then he continued forward, his face looking straight ahead but his eyes wandering as far as they could to his left.  Deliberately he counted to himself fifty paces, and then one hundred, before the dogs, a mass of squirming yellow, brown, and gray, broke out of the woods and were distracted by him from their chase.  They were curious and not unfriendly, and he reached out his wrist to be sniffed by one even as his horse touched noses with another.

       The five hunters were not far behind, nearly as dirty as the girl had been, their clothes wet with sweat.  Upon seeing the stranger they stopped short and looked at each other in surprise. "Greetings, brother," one said, uncertainly.

       "My greetings to you," he replied evenly.

       The hunters shifted uneasily at the sight of a man they did not know wearing odd, travelworn clothes.  After a moment one of them said, "Without meaning to be rude, you can see we are on a hunt.  Have you seen signs of an escaped cunt?  You've put our dogs off her scent."

       He regarded them for a moment.  "Aye, I saw her," he said slowly.  "She came out of the forest ahead of me on the path."  He squinted and tilted back his hat.  "I suggest you look in that direction," he said, pointing down the path in front of him and towards the right.

       "My thanks," the first hunter said, already beginning to jog on with the others.  He yelled over his shoulder, "The cunt's name is Mariah.  Be sure to come to her execution."  He whistled for the dogs.

       The stranger continued on the path, steadily leading his horse, until the hunters were out of sight.  He counted to a hundred to make certain they were not coming back.  Then, dropping his horse's reins, he walked off the path a few feet, leaned unsteadily against a tree, and vomited until there was nothing left but the green bile of his intestines.  He rested a moment, then retrieved a water bottle from his horse's pack, slowly swished his mouth, gargled, and spit.  He came around to the front of his horse and touched her forehead with his own.  "Ah, Peggy," he said, "Maybe this wasn't such a grand idea after all." 

Chapter 1: Entering the gates

       The stranger had tried to steel himself to the size of Riviera, or at least what its size had been two centuries ago.  The first time he looked at the maps in Harmony's library he assumed the scale must be wrong.  The elders assured him there was no error.  Harmony, with all its outlying farms and valleys, would fit into Riviera's walled land a hundred times or more.

       Nevertheless, when at late morning the old road broke out of the trees into a meadow, with a muted gasp the stranger pulled his horse up short.  The far side of the field ended at a ten foot high stone wall covered with barbed wire which seemed to curve around to either side into eternity.

       The path cut through the meadow at an angle to a gate about a quarter mile beyond.  This should be the Holden Outpost, the same gate by which Harmony's founders had left Riviera so many generations before.

       The loud caw of a crow from a tree above startled the stranger out of his reverie, and he clicked his tongue, urging his horse forward.  After days in the forest he felt nervous in the open field, and he kicked the horse into a trot until they were in the morning shadow of the wrought iron gate.  The stranger dismounted and peered through the bars. 

       Inside, the meadow continued, and so did the road.  To its right was a small house covered with yellow paint which in places was peeling.  The house had a sagging wraparound porch, and on it was a woman dressed in a green tunic and leggings, leaning her chair back on two legs until it rested against the wall.  Her face hung slack, and delicate snores escaped her mouth.  Her long strawberry blond hair hung in heavy braid over one shoulder, with wisps escaping here and there.  By her side, on the floor of the porch, also sleeping, curled up like a dog, was a naked man with dark curly hair and pinkish skin mottled by cuts and bruises.  His only covering was a metal collar, perhaps two inches wide, around his neck, attached by a long chain to a post of the porch.

       The stranger cleared his throat. Neither gatekeeper nor slave stirred.  He called out but they did not hear.  His horse came to his rescue, snorting impatiently.

       The slave awoke with a start, scrambling to his hands and knees and looking around in confusion.  The stranger cleared his throat again.  The slave, seeing him, bowed his head to the floor but overshot, hitting it with a bang.  Whimpering, he slid his entire torso back down to the ground and kissed the floor boards, pushing his mouth down until the stranger was certain he would get blisters on his lips.  By his side, the gatekeeper slept on.                  

       "Excuse me," the stranger said in the most courteous tone he could manage, although his voice croaked from lack of use.  The slave boy looked up again, and immediately lowered his head in a panic.  Slowly he looked up again, as if he were a small child playing peek-a-boo.  The stranger made no move.  After a moment of deliberation, the slave boy carefully wriggled up to where his mistress' boots touched the floor, and cautiously nuzzled their toes.

       The gatekeeper woke in an instant.  "You dare," she hissed, and kicked him, hard, in the throat.   

       "No, don't," the stranger cried out, involuntarily, from behind the gate.  The slave fell back and made a gurgling sound, but did not move his hands to his throat. 

       At the sound of the stranger's voice, the gatekeeper looked up, startled.  She had light blue eyes and a fine, aquiline nose just a touch too narrow.  The stranger realized the woman was younger then he had first assumed.  Her mouth opened and closed in surprise, and then she broke into an easy laugh.  "Whyever not?" she said.  Absently she took the whip from her belt, doubled it over, and smashed it into the slave's lower back, marking a half circle in his skin.   The slave keened through closed lips but did not move.  The stranger grasped the wrought iron of the gate tightly, and looked away.

       The gatekeeper took no further notice of the slave, but arose from her chair and descended down the two or three steps of the porch.  Lazily, as if stretching, she pulled from her tunic and then overhead a leather string with a large metal key attached.  Turning the key in the gate's lock, she pulled back and the gate opened easily.  She stood aside and let the stranger lead his horse through.  "You didn't leave by this gate or I'd have been expecting you back," she remarked defensively.

       "I'm sorry," said the stranger, embarrassed.  "I didn't mean to put you out.  Or cause trouble for him," he added indicating the slave with a jerk of his head.

       The gatekeeper laughed in a puzzled way.  "You're an odd one, aren't you?" she said.  She reached up tentatively and touched Pegasus' long snout, smiling when she softly snorted.  "Say, this is a fine beast.  What stable is she from?  She could use some water, I bet."  She gave him a friendly, expectant smile, while at the same time yanking on the chain attached to the slave's collar, causing him to slide headfirst down the porch steps.

       The sick metallic feeling flooded the stranger's limbs.  He shook his head to clear his mind.  Misunderstanding him, the gatekeeper frowned.  "You should mind your horse better," she said. "You can't always put your needs above the beast's."   For emphasis she kicked the naked slave who had come to stand on his hands and knees at her side.  The slave gave a short keening through closed lips but made no other sign.

       Recklessly the stranger grabbed at the gatekeeper's arm.

       "I mean no disrespect to you," he said in a strained voice. "But maybe out of hospitality to a visitor to your land you could be kinder to the fellow." 

       The gatekeeper started and stared, and then laughed a low laugh.  "A visitor!  To Riviera!" she exclaimed.  "Well, I'll be."  She looked at him closely for the first time, taking in his odd clothes.  "Say, you're not from Alphronsia, are you?  I had an aunt who went visiting there once.  Never came back."

       The stranger shook his head.  "No, not from so far.  I come from Harmony."

       "Harmony!" The gatekeeper looked him up and down, slowly, and then over to his horse.  "You don't look like much of a rebel, but you never can tell, my Da says.  Are you the healer that was sent for, then?  I thought it would be an elder that would come."  She frowned at him.

       "I am the healer.  I finished my apprenticeship these two years past."  A little embarrassed, he held out his hand for her to shake, and added, "I am called Gabriel." 

       "I am Tanya," she said, taking his hand limply.  She continued formally, "I welcome you to Riviera."  Then she smiled as if amused by her own words.

       Gabriel looked down at the slave who continued to cower on hands and knees by Tanya's side, again feeling the green, sick feeling.  The slave was a grown man, or nearly so.  His dark, curly hair hung over his face, hiding it, and his limbs were so thin that they put Gabriel in mind of coyote's.  The slave's shoulders trembled, but whether from fear or exertion Gabriel could not tell.  If he was aware of Gabriel's scrutiny he gave no sign.

       Tanya, seeing Gabriel's intense observation of the slave, said, "Griley's not much good that way.  No more energy than a snake in the shade.  But if you've the need and inclination after your journey, one slave kneeling over is pretty much like another.  You're welcome to him."

       Gabriel looked at her in complete bafflement, until he realized with a shock what she meant.  "Oh, no," he said, involuntarily taking a step back from her and the slave. 

       Tanya furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance.  "Which side you favor is nothing to me," she said. "We've no superstitions here." Griley remained silent and motionless, except for the tremors in his shoulders, which seemed to be increasing.

       Gabriel forced himself to take a deep, slow breath into his diaphragm, sending the air to find his center of gravity.  The green feeling subsided slightly.  "You've misunderstood me," he said.  "I was looking at him only because I am a healer.  Some of his cuts are infected, and I see can see from here he's feverish. I'd like to try to make him more comfortable."

       Tanya frowned, deeply and angrily.  Gabriel hoped the expression on his own face was pleasant, even as he determined to himself that he would treat the man whatever Tanya said, and whatever the consequences.  He hoped to reach the Bearer's daughter, and to acquit himself well, but he could not put that purpose above the man who cowered before him.  He had taken the healer's oath and he would uphold it.

       Tanya contemplated his countenance.  After a moment she stepped aside, stiffly and grudgingly, her shoulders taut with anger that belied her staccato words. "In Riviera we believe in hospitality to strangers.  You can do with him as you like while I send a homing pigeon ahead with news of your arrival.  His key is in his collar."  She turned on her heel and walked purposefully around the far side of the house, not looking back.

       As Gabriel approached the groveling figure he saw that, indeed, the heavy metal collar that was locked around Griley's throat had a key in it.  In disbelief that Griley had not attempted to remove the collar, Gabriel swiftly bent to one knee in front of him, turned the key and took off the collar.  He flung it into the dirt some feet away.  The metal had left a red tattoo in Griley's neck.  Gabriel asked him softly, "Are you in pain?"

       "Yes, sir," Griley responded in a hushed, cracked voice.  He bowed his head down to the ground.

       "I am a healer," Gabriel said.  "Will you let me help you?"

       Griley did not lift his forehead from the ground.  "I am your vessel, master," he said raggedly.

       Gabriel shuddered and sat next to the man's bent over figure, looking at the bloody X cut in his back by Tanya's whip. He saw that Griley's entire back was covered with scars and whipmarks.  He touched gently next to where the X crossed.  "Is that where it hurts the most?" he said softly.

       "I am your vessel, master," Griley repeated.  He raised his head slightly and coughed, a dry rasping cough.  Then he quickly lowered his head again, banging his forehead on the ground without a whimper.

       Gabriel reached for his waterskin hanging at his waist and uncorked the top.  "Can you sit up?" he asked Griley. Griley instantly raised up his body and sat back on his knees, his head down, his eyes staring expressionless at the ground in front of him.  Gabriel pressed his waterskin into Griley's hand.  "Drink," he said, "It will make you feel better." 

       Griley obediently raised the water skin and squirted water into his mouth, swallowing it without expression.  Gabriel stood and went to Pegasus, who had wandered a few steps away, gently munching on a stray thistle at the side of the road.  Distractedly Gabriel petted her neck for a moment, and then retrieved a pack from the bags hanging on Pegasus' saddle.  He fiddled with various small, odd shaped paper and leather packets until he found the one he was looking for.  Taking out a cake of soap, he turned back to the slave, who was still pouring water into his mouth and swallowing robotically.  Gabriel gently took the skin from him.  "Easy," he said.  "You don't want to drown in that."  Griley kept his head tilted back, expressionless.

       Gabriel wet his hands with water from the skin, and washed with the soap.  Returning it to his pack, he again looked at various packets until he found a bunch of dried leaves, and, with more ease, a small clay bowl wrapped in leather.  He poured a few drops of water into the bowl and then crushed the leaves into dust over it, stirring the mixture into paste with his forefinger.

       Returning to Griley, Gabriel knelt in front of him and put the bowl on the ground between them.  Griley was still looking up to the heavens.  Gabriel sat motionless for several minutes, merely looking steadily at the slave, and breathing slowly and deeply.  At length, with a moan, the slave shivered and then looked at Gabriel full in the face, his pupils dilated with fear. He started to look up again, but Gabriel said, "It's all right.  I won't hurt you."  Griley's eyes widened but he looked down, towards Gabriel's knees, rather than up.  This seemed to be a much more comfortable stance.

       Gabriel continued to breathe deeply and slowly, almost ostentatiously, into his belly.  Slowly, subtly, Griley's own breathing slowed and became deeper, until the bellies of the two men rose and fell in sync.  They sat thus, otherwise motionless. The pupil's of Griley's eyes slowly returned to normal size, and the tremors in his shoulder calmed.

       Without interrupting the flow of his breathing, and moving so slowly that he barely seemed to moving at all, Gabriel dipped his finger into the paste he had made, and, ever so slowly, moved around to Griley's back.  Gently, he spread the paste over the X where the worst of Griley's cut's crossed.  Griley gave a start at his first touch, but then was still.

       "The cassia will help your wounds heal, and fight infection," Gabriel said to him softly.  "This concoction isn't very strong, but it should relieve some of your pain and make you more comfortable."

       To Gabriel's dismay, Griley began to cry, first a sniffle and then a sob.  "Not kindness, Master," he begged, and he threw his body to the ground and banged his forehead on the dirt.  "Not the kindness mindgame."  He stuck out his tongue and began to feverishly lick the ground in front of him.

       "It's not a game," Gabriel said desperately. "I want to help you.  I'm a healer."

       Griley looked up and made a sound between a croon and a groan.  "Master, they only sent me to the gatehouse because I'm ready to die," he pleaded.  "I've nothing left of any use.  No kindness.  No mindgames.  Please..."  Griley sobbed and banged his head into the dirt again. 

       Gabriel dove to the ground and put shoved his hands under Griley's forehead, shielding it from the hard dirt, desperately trying to stop the man from seriously injuring himself.  When his forehead touched Gabriel's soft palms, Griley stopped pounding his head, but he continued sobbing, on the verge of hyperventilating.  Gabriel gently extricated his hands and reached under Griley's shoulders, pulling gently until he sat up. With his arm still around Griley's shoulder, Gabriel pulled him close, like he would a scared child.  He searched for words to say to the man, but could find none.  Instead, he softly stroked Griley's head, crooning softly.  Griley began to relax and breathe more normally, and the danger of hyperventilation passed. Gabriel could still feel his pulse beating wildly, though, and he knew the man was terrified.  He closed his eyes, matching his breath to Griley's shallow breath, only ever so gently beginning to slow it down. 

       His meditation was interrupted by a whistle and Tanya's voice saying, "Well, I'll be." 

       Griley tried to escape from Gabriel's grip and bow down before her, but Gabriel placed his other arm in front of his body, keeping him upright and steadying him.  Griley began to shake uncontrollably and to cry again, and he muttered, "Mercy, mercy," whether to Tanya or to Gabriel himself, or to both, Gabriel did not know.  Griley tried again to bow down before Tanya, but Gabriel restrained him. 

       "Shsh," he said to the slave.  "Tanya won't hurt you again, will you, Tanya?" and he looked at her, pleading.

       Tanya pursed her lips together until they formed two thin whitish lines.  "You overreach yourself, Healer," she said.  "He is my slave."  

       Griley trembled and moaned, and hid his face in Gabriel's arm.  "Stop it!" Tanya hissed at him.  In terror Griley pulled himself away from Gabriel and threw himself to the ground in front of Tanya, completely prostrate, sniffling.  

       Tanya ignored him.  She spoke coldly to Gabriel.  "The Bearer sent for you.  I didn't.  If you've a mind to spoil and ruin his slaves, that's your business and his.  But I'll thank you to leave mine alone."  In her anger, Tanya's face had turned pale, save for two round red spots on each cheek and one at the tip of her nose. 

       Gabriel willed his heart to beat more slowly.  He took a breath so deep his lungs hurt, expelled it slowly, and said to her, "You call him a slave but he is a man.  You've no right to treat him so."

       Tanya's green eyes seemed to take on a yellow tint, and her pupils shrank to tiny specks.  "No right?" she shrieked.  "No right? I'll show you my rights."  She took her whip and began to slash at Griley's bare back with it.  Gabriel grabbed at her wrist, and the whip went wide, barely brushing Gabriel's side.  Tanya wrenched away and whipped at Griley again.  This time Gabriel grabbed the whip itself, which wrapped around his hand several times, cutting him.  Ignoring or oblivious to the pain, Gabriel pulled, and the handle came flying from Tanya's hand, hitting him smartly on the forehead.

       "How dare you?"  Tanya hissed.

       Before Gabriel could answer, a man's voice said from behind them, "Yes, how dare you?"

       Gabriel and Tanya both turned in surprise.  A tall, balding man with a belly that preceded him, held a great tan mare by the reins, and looked upon them with a stern face.  As neither Gabriel or Tanya said anything, the man's frown deepened.  "Perhaps you'd care to explain why you are interfering with Gatekeeper Tanya's oversight of her slave?"  he asked Gabriel in a slow, ponderous tone.

       The whip was still wrapped around Gabriel's hand, which was beginning to throb.  Ignoring it, Gabriel said, more heatedly than he would have liked, "I am interfering with senseless torture.  No creature should be treated in this manner."  His statement was punctuated by a deep sob from Griley.

       The man puckered his eyebrows in surprise and crossed his arms about his chest, scrutinizing Gabriel intensely.  He said, after a moment, with exaggerated courtesy, "Surely you do not say that Mistress Tanya has not complete dominion over her own slave?"

       Tanya broke in, angrily.  "He knows nothing, Jonquil.  He is a rebel come from Harmony."  She spat her words as if anxious to have them leave her mouth.

       Jonquil looked from Tanya to Gabriel and took a step back, as if to get a more complete view of him.  "Are you then the healer sent for by the Bearer to attend his daughter?"  Tanya scowled, but let Gabriel answer.

       "I am," he said simply.

       Jonquil bowed stiffly.  "On behalf of the Bearer and his daughter I thank you for answering the summons."  The corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyebrows frowned. "Being a guest and a stranger here, of course you do not know our ways.  If you will accompany me to the mansion, we will get you settled immediately."

       A low moan came from Griley.  Realizing he had made noise, he began to lick at the dirt beneath his face, frantically, his tongue making a circle.

       Gabriel clutched at the whip which was still wrapped around his hand.  "I'm sorry," he said, trying to match Jonquil's tone of polite aloofness.  "Griley is my patient now.  I cannot leave him while he suffers."

       Tanya gave an exasperated snort.  "He is a slave.  He lives only to suffer."  She looked petulantly at Jonquil.

       Jonquil nodded in agreement.  "The gatekeeper speaks the truth," he said.  "The creature is her slave.  If she wants him to suffer, no one may interfere."  Griley moaned again and stopped licking the dirt, but merely lay utterly motionless. 

       Gabriel took a step towards Griley, as if to protect him, and turned to face Jonquil and Tanya, legs firmly planted.  He crossed his arms, the whip handle dangling down. 

       Jonquil contemplated him for a moment, and then said, with the barest nervous crack in his polite facade, "Come, come, dwellers of Harmony and Riviera are cousins.  Surely we can find common ground here." 

       Tanya spat, "You can't be afraid of him, Jonquil.  Look at him.  He's bedraggled as a farm dick and has no more strength than one just out of the factory." 

       Jonquil enunciated, as if trying to overcome a lisp, "I am not afraid of the healer, gatekeeper Tanya.  I am considering the options."  He paused.  "A compromise must be reached," he declared.  "Tanya will agree not to punish the slave for today's events." 

       Gabriel interrupted, heatedly.  "Punish him! He's done nothing!"

       Jonquil held up his hand to silence Gabriel.  "She will agree not to punish him for today's events," he repeated, "And she will agree that if he does not misbehave she will neither beat nor torture him for two weeks."

       Tanya sputtered again, in protest, but Jonquil ignored her, speaking to Gabriel.  "That will give the creature time to heal his wounds and perhaps even to win his mistress's affections.  No more can be asked."

       Jonquil held Gabriel's gaze for a minute and then looked away, coloring slightly.  Gabriel's blood roared in his ears as he saw Griley, prostrate on the ground.  Deliberately he unwrapped the whip from his hand, resisting the urge to rub his cut hand. 

       A long, petrified groan came from Griley.  The knowledge broke like a dropped egg on Gabriel that he could not make a stand here.  Would he insist that Griley be set free?  The concept was meaningless.  Griley could not take care of himself, even if he were healthy, outside of these walls.  He would die of exposure in a day, or of hunger in a week at most.  Freedom within the walls for him was impossible.  He was one of--how many?  Tens of thousands of slaves, or more, for all Gabriel knew.  They would not be freed on account of one stranger asking for it. 

       Gabriel looked back at Jonquil and slowly nodded his acquiescence, bile building at the back of his throat.   Jonquil clasped his hands together.  He turned to Tanya and said, "I shall certainly convey your good grace in this matter, gatekeeper," he said.  "Your sacrifice will not go unnoted." 

       Tanya frowned angrily, but said nothing.  His face turned away from Gabriel, Jonquil winked at her, then turned back to Gabriel solemnly.  "If your horse does not require further rest," he said,  "I suggest we leave.  The mansion is two hours on the road, and there is no sense in delaying."  He looked hard at Gabriel, and his meaning was unmistakable.

       Nevertheless, Gabriel turned deliberately and strode to Griley, lowering himself to the ground beside the man.  Griley made no sound or indication that he was aware of his presence.  After a long moment, Gabriel reached out and smoothed the slave's hair.  Without moving, Griley said in a voice so low only Gabriel could hear him, "Not kindness, master.  Please not kindness." 

       Gabriel removed his hand.  "I'm sorry," he said in a whisper, and turned away.