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CHAPTER 6: TWO CONVERSATIONS
Rose woke early the next morning, and scared. She knew there was something she had been supposed to do the night before, and she had not done it. What it was she could not recall, until she sat up and felt the odd numbness on her back where the bandages were. Then it all came flooding back to her: the beating by the Bearer, the Bearer's order to take care of the strange new master who had been kind to her, and falling asleep on the couch before she had done any of the tasks she should have done. Animal slept beside her, snoring softly, and she gave another start when she realized that she had not satisfied him last night.
She sat miserably on the edge of the bed, torn between waiting for Animal to wake to beg his forgiveness, or going to wait on the new master and to beg his forgiveness. She heard a soft clang from the kitchen, and water running. She turned and looked desperately at the sleeping figure beside her. She knew that, as he had missed first light already, he might sleep for hours more.
Trembling, Rose opened the bedroom door quietly and peeked out. With a gasp she saw that the new master was in the kitchen cubicle, washing dishes! She started towards him, turned back and quietly closed the bedroom door, then almost ran across the living room and skidded to a stop on her knees in the kitchen doorway. "Forgive me, master," she said in a voice so soft Gabriel barely heard her.
He turned to her with a funny, apologetic smile. "I hope I didn't wake you," he said, and turned back to finish the dish he was washing. He had awoken that morning still heartsick from the events of the day before but also amazingly refreshed from having slept with a safe roof over his head and no need to keep an ear cocked for marauding raccoons and worse. Without compunction he had raided the icebox of the food Animal had evidently dumped there the night before, on the plates they ate off. Further, he was certain he remembered the way to the main entranceway, from where he could easily find the stable and Pegasus.
"Please, master," Rose pleaded. She started to cry, more certain than ever of punishment if a master was doing her own work.
Gabriel turned to her again, distressed. “Please don't cry," he asked, in the most gentle voice he could muster.
Rose looked down, biting her lip. His kind tone scared her more than his weird actions. Masters were sometimes eccentric or lazy, like Animal. That was dangerous but you could get used to it. But kindness was always a mindgame. A tear rolled down to the tip of Rose's nose and dropped with a tiny splotch to the floor. She remained motionless.
Gabriel watched her for a time, matching his breath to hers. Then he said, in a soft, conversational voice, "I never saw a faucet like this one, where endless hot water comes out." This got Rose's attention, and she looked up at him, puzzled. "Jonquil couldn't tell me yesterday about how anything around here works. It seems like magic to me."
Rose took a deep breath, and said, "It comes from pipes from a boiler room, Master." When Gabriel waited, she added, "The boiler broke once when I worked in the southern wing. There was no hot water for two weeks. Nobody knew how to fix it."
Rose turned bright red, as if embarrassed by the sound of her own voice. Gabriel pretended he didn't notice, and asked, with genuine interest, "How does the boiler make the water hot?"
Rose thought for a minute. "My mistress brought me to see the public torturing after the boiler was fixed. I think the Bearer ordered that all the houseslaves in that wing attend. I remember the torturer saying the slaves were supposed to tend the fires which heated the water." She looked at Gabriel almost angrily before she blankened her face.
Gabriel had seen the look. "It wasn't their fault, Rose," he said softly. Rose prostrated herself, her characteristic fear returning.
Gabriel mentally kicked himself for going too fast. He tried to save the situation. "That beautiful shower I took this morning," he said, "Does that water come from the same place?"
Rose trembled. Without looking up, she said, "Forgive me, Master. I don't know."
Gabriel leaned back against the counter, watching her. He tried to think of a topic of conversation that would put her at ease, but seeing her taut posture he realized that he had pushed as far as she would go for now. He chewed on his lip, wishing for a normal conversation with a friend.
The thought made him remember Pegasus. Was she as lonely, he wondered? He would go and see her, and then the lass. Quietly he put in the cabinet the dish he had been holding. He turned briskly towards the doorway and almost tripped over Rose, still prostrate. Unsure what else to do, he stepped over her. Rose emitted a high whimper, which stopped when no blow landed. Fearing that she would remain statue-still for hours if he said nothing, he told her that he was going to the stables. Rose looked up and nodded, but said nothing, her cheeks wet with tears.
***
It was not for nothing that Gabriel had spent so much of his youth wandering outside of Harmony's borders, seeking healing herbs. The elders of Harmony had approved him for this journey partly because of his well-known woodsense, believing that he among all the young healers would not get lost on the way to Riviera, following a path scarcely used for generations. Yet he found himself confused by the odd angles at which the indoor corridors met, with neither sun nor breeze to guide him
This early in the day only a few slaves were about. He watched them go by, fearfully making obeisance, before he stopped one who, like Rose, was not heavily marked, and asked him the direction to the entrance hall. If the man thought it was an odd question he gave no sign, but answered courteously and clearly, on his knees, his eyes down. Gabriel was quite close.
The picture window faced south, and through it Gabriel saw the Lawn, still sparkling with dew, empty except for a few groundskeepers cleaning litter. Gabriel pushed open the door, descended the steps of the grand stairway, and walked hurriedly across the grass towards the stable. He wondered with a sudden pang whether these barbarians had mistreated his horse in the handful of hours since he had left her. He remembered the pixie slave girl's face--what was her name? Jordan--and her quiet, gentle voice promising the horse would be fine. Despite common sense, he was calmed.
Unlike the mansion, the stable was bustling when he arrived. A little shyly, Gabriel peered into the third stable before entering it. Throughout its length, slaves were grooming horses. As he passed them, they nodded respectfully. Jordan was currying a speckled white mare, talking softly to it. When she saw Gabriel, she stepped just more than kicking distance away from the mare and fell gracefully to her knees, the rest of her body remaining firmly erect. "Can I serve you, Master?" she asked.
The ends of Jordan's flyaway hair wisped into her face as she kneeled perfectly still. Unlike every other slave Gabriel had spoken with, Jordan neither shook nor trembled. Suddenly he heard a sound as familiar to him as his own breathing: Pegasus' whicker. Swiftly stepping around the kneeling girl, Gabriel practically ran into his horse's stall. Pegasus, as unused to being away from her friend as the reverse, gave a snort and a prance. Gabriel crossed the few steps to the horse in a heartbeat and threw his arms around her neck, feeling that it had been years instead of hours since he had last seen her.
A man cleared his throat. Turning quickly, Gabriel saw Stefan in the doorway, a sardonic grin on his face. "I see we managed not to kill your horse overnight," he said.
Gabriel blushed, realizing that his comment to Jordan the night before must have gotten back to the stable's boss. Stefan seemed to enjoy his discomfiture. Lazily he said, "Hope you'll let the horse rest up a bit before riding her over tarnation."
Gabriel bit down annoyance. He no more needed advice on how to care for his own horse than he did on how to tie his shoes. Seeing his reaction, Stefan looked, if possible, more smug than before. "No insult intended," he drawled.
"You have a pasture?" Gabriel asked coldly.
Stefan nodded. "The cunt can show you which field," he said, indicating Jordan, who had stolen up behind her master and stood nearby, attentive.
In a deliberate attempt to cut Stefan, Gabriel turned his back towards him and began currying Pegasus. He felt warmth beside him, and turned, annoyed that the man had come back to laugh some more. But it was Jordan, holding a clean curry brush in her hand. Gabriel took it. "Thank you," he said.
"Do all your horses have a jaw like that, Master?" Jordan asked in a shy, interested voice.
Automatically Gabriel replied, "The shape comes from her sire, a mustang." He suddenly realized that Stefan had asked him the same question the day before, and looked at the girl quizzically. She, thinking she had offended, looked down and fell to her knees, where she awaited her punishment with seeming calm.
"Please don't do that," Gabriel said quietly.
"Sir?"
"Don't fear that I'll hurt you. I wouldn't..." Gabriel faltered. He had been about to say that he wouldn't even know how, but he remembered his threat to this same slave girl the night before. Of course he would know how. How hard is it to punch a naked, defenseless child, or to use a whip on one?
"I know you wouldn't, Master," Jordan said softly.
"You believe me?" Gabriel asked, so incredulous that tears stung his eyes.
Jordan smiled up at him, and looked over at Pegasus. "A cruel man couldn't train a horse like this," she said simply.
"Maybe I didn't train him," he said perversely.
Jordan just smiled. "Shall I show you the pasture?" she asked.
Gabriel nodded assent and put a harness on Pegasus. As they exited the stable, Gabriel was aware that the slaves gave him covert glances, although whenever he looked straight at them they looked down and fell to their knees. Several of them were badly whipped on their backsides, and all, including Jordan, had layers upon layers of scars like cobwebs. None of her scars were infected though. Gabriel shook the thought away, disgusted that he had come to so easily distinguish between gradations of torture.
The sun was well up as they exited the stable. Jordan walked swiftly in a direction leading away from the mansion, ignoring one or two fenced in pastures the size of a few acres, and stopping at the third. A few horses grazed lazily. Gabriel looked at them with trepidation, wondering how Pegasus would fit into their structure.
Jordan whistled low and steady, and one of the horses, a light tan mare, ambled over to her. "This is Mercy," Jordan explained to Gabriel. "She has the stall next to Pegasus. They made friends last night." To prove her right, the two horses touched noses. Jordan giggled. "Everyone loves Mercy," she said, and she affectionately and unselfconsciously kissed the mare's nose. Mercy lay her head upon the girl's shoulder, and snorted.
Gabriel left the pasture reluctantly, still nervous about leaving Pegasus behind and not wanting to go back to the mansion and the ugliness there. He reminded himself sternly that he came to try to heal the Bearer's daughter.
"Can I do anything for you, Master?" Jordan asked so kindly that Gabriel felt ashamed for feeling sorry for himself. She added, "Master Stefan says you’ve been on your own for a long time.”
When Gabriel merely looked at her, she added, “Before I came to the stables I was fully trained. Whatever your taste. Deep throat, buttfucking. I can do whatever you like. "
Gabriel stopped her, touching her arm until she looked at him. "I wouldn't ask you to do any of those things, Jordan," he said.
She looked down. “Plain sex,” she said, in a low voice.
Gabriel looked at her silently. "I told you I wouldn't hurt you, Jordan," he said. "I wouldn't rape you either."
Jordan looked relieved, and puzzled. "You're very kind, Sir," she said. "Like Master Stefan."
Gabriel frowned at being compared to the sardonic stable master. "Is he kind?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Jordan said, her face lighting up. "He is the kind of master you always hope for."
"Last night I heard him whipping one of your friends," Gabriel said slowly. "And by the scars on your back I'm sure he beats you as well."
Jordan shrugged as if it was of no matter. "He whips us when we deserve it," she said, "and he has the lottery, but he isn't cruel."
"The lottery?" Gabriel asked.
Jordan nodded. "Every night we gather in the back of our building. He whips those of us who deserve it according to what we have done. And then he pulls a name out of a hat, and that person gets fifteen strokes." Noting how shocked Gabriel looked, she added, "To keep us obedient, and remind us that no matter how free we feel, we must obey."
Gabriel shook his head and sighed. "Doesn't it hurt?" he asked.
"It does," Jordan said. "One time my name was called in lottery five days running. But they're good clean strokes. It's just whipping, not torture," she added.
They were approaching the stable building. The yard was still full of slaves scurrying back and forth, but few masters. Jordan turned to Gabriel again, repeating her words of last night. "Pegasus will be fine. You'll see."
"Thank you," Gabriel whispered, his eyes stinging with tears at her kindness again, as he turned heavily to return to the mansion.
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