Mind Games

       

CHAPTER 16:  OF FLOWERS AND HORSES

       Mariah held the crook of Gabriel’s arm.  She tried not to lean on it too heavily.  She could feel his warmth radiating through his shirtsleeve.  He smelled good.  Clean, like rain.  She had never particularly noticed the smell of a master before, except their breath when it was hot and rancid on her face.  The memory of Master Jonas flashed through her mind.  Involuntarily she clutched harder at Master Gabriel’s arm.

       He was telling her something about flowers.  Nasturtiums.  There was a bed of them, red and yellow and orange.  Their cheerfulness assaulted Mariah.  Edible, Gabriel was saying.  Spicy.  Then he turned to her and his face relaxed from earnest to gentle.  “You’re tired,” he said.  And she was.  He led her back to the wheelchair, which they had left by the entrance to the mansion.  It was no more than fifty yards from the nasturtiums, but by the time they got there Mariah was shaking.

      Just as she had sat down heavily, a runner came panting up to them, fell on his knees before Gabriel, and offered up a folded note.  Gabriel read it, frowned, and turned to Mariah.  "There's been an accident at the stable where I keep my horse," he said.  "I haven't time to take you home, and I daren't leave you here. Will you come?" 

       "I am yours to comm..." Mariah started to say.  But Gabriel gave her a look, and she was so tired.  "Yes, my lord," she amended.

       If Gabriel noted Mariah's brief concession to the mindgame, he gave no sign.  He started to push her chair over the grass, but it was bumpy and slow.  He backtracked to the paved walkway.  There was a slight curb onto the pavement which jolted the chair, giving Mariah a shock of pain through her ribs that made her gasp.  Gabriel ignored her, half-running with the chair towards the perimeter of the lawn and taking a right towards the stables.

       When the building came into view, Gabriel stopped, panting from his exertion.  He ran his fingers through his hair and breathed deeply several times.  Then he began to push Mariah's wheel contraption again, this time at a firm walk.

       They turned the corner to the building.  A slave cunt, with auburn flyaway hair, and so short that at first Mariah thought she was still a farm slave, ran up to them and skidded to her knees before them.  "Get up, Jordan," Gabriel said without breaking his stride, "and tell me what happened."

       Jordan rose without hesitation.  "It's Remarque," she said.  "He was riding Plantana out of the stable when something spooked her and she threw him.  He hit the back of his head on Master Stefan's glass window and was cut bad when it shattered.  Master Stefan won't let the vet look at him. He's waiting for you."

       As she said this they turned the corner into the stable.  A group of slaves were hovering near the entrance.  Gabriel started to push Mariah's wheel contraption through but stopped and turned to Jordan.  "This is Mariah," he said.  "Take care of her."

       Jordan nodded.  "Of course, my lord," she said respectfully.

       Gabriel hesitated for a moment, looking from Mariah to the crowd and back.  "Keep her out of trouble."

       Jordan nodded again.  "Don't worry, master," she said.  She flashed him a smile but looked towards the crowd.

       Gabriel gave her a little nod, and plunged into the circle of people.  They parted to let him through.

      A slave dick was laying flat on the ground on his back.  Master Stefan was kneeling on the ground next to him, naked from the waist up, holding his blood-soaked shirt to the area where the slave’s neck met his left shoulder.  When Stefan saw Gabriel he let out of a sigh of relief.  "Thank the first oath that idiot runner found you," he said, sounding ragged. 

       Gabriel knelt on the ground next to Stefan.  "How long ago did it happen?" he asked.

       "Half an hour or more," Stefan answered,  his voice cracking.

       Gabriel laid two fingers on the slave's pulse on the other side of his neck from the cut.  Then he looked at Stefan.  "I have a new rule," he said.  "I'll look at this slave in return for your promise not to punish him for a full moon cycle." 

       Stefan's eyes bugged out.  "You would bargain with me while he might be dying, Healer?" he asked.  When Gabriel said nothing, Stefan said, "Yes, yes, I agree.  Do what you can for him."

       Gabriel looked glanced back over towards Mariah and gave her a smile with the side of his mouth facing away from Stefan. He reached into his medicine pouch for a gel that he rubbed over his hands.  At the same time he looked down at the slave and said softly, "Remarque."  The slave blinked opened his eyes. "Do you know who I am?" Gabriel asked.

      “The outlander,” Remarque said, his voice hoarse. 

     

      Gabriel nodded.  He held two fingers a few inches above Remarque’s face and moved them slowly side to side.  “What are the names of the horses you take care of?” he asked.

     

      “Tracey, Tender, Racer . . .  “ Remarque said.  “That devil Plantana.”  His eyes followed Gabriel’s fingers. 

     

      Gabriel gave a small sigh of relief.  "You're going to be fine.  You've a nasty cut on your neck but you missed the artery.  I’ll fix you right up." 

       "How can you tell that he missed the artery?" Stefan asked in a worried undertone. “You haven’t even looked.” 

       Gabriel said shortly, "If he had cut the artery he'd be dead by now.  I was more concerned about a concussion."  He looked around, craning to see past the slaves around him.  "He’s lost too much blood to sit up, but I need him higher to stitch him cleanly.  Have you a table?"

      "My desk," Stefan said, indicating the office behind them. 

      Gabriel looked around, and nodded.  Without an order being given, two of the slaves hurried into the office and cleaned off the desk.  Gabriel directed several of the others to gently lift Remarque, while Stefan kept pressure on his neck.  When they had laid him into the desk, Gabriel went to the back of the building to wash his hands. 

      He returned with a bucket of clean water.  Seemingly unhurriedly, he poured white powder from two packets he took from his medicine pouch into the bucket and stirred it.  When he was done, he reached again into his medicine bag and took out a bandage and a pair of scissors.  He began to cut Stefan's shirt until only the part directly over Remarque’s wound remained.  Then he indicated to Stefan to remove his hand from the makeshift bandage.  He nodded, pleased.  "You stopped most of the bleeding yourself," he said.         

       

       He slowly began to wash away the remaining cloth from the wound.  Remarque groaned and moved his head.  Gabriel instructed Stefan to hold the slave's head still, and said to Remarque, "This is going to pinch.  You’ve lost so much blood that I can’t give you anything to numb it.”  He waited for Remarque’s eyes to meet his.  “A man who can handle a horse like Racer can handle this.  But I won’t start until you’re ready.” 

      Remarque looked away from Gabriel.  A blonde slave, slightly taller than Jordan, pushed her way next to the desk and took his hand.  Remarque relaxed.  “I’m ready, Master,” he said. 

     

      Gabriel nodded at Stefan, who tightened his grip around Remarque’s head, keeping it still.  Remarque’s eyes widened with fear.  The blonde said, conversationally, “Guess who I saw at the pond yesterday.”  Remarque looked her way, and the cunt began to tell a long, meandering story about a feral dog. 

     

       Gabriel slowly washed away the remains of Stefan's shirt that stuck to the wound.  Using a cup, he poured some of the mixture from the bucket over it, letting the blood and water mix.  When he was satisfied that there would be no infection, he sewed up the wound and placed a loose bandage over it.  All the while, the cunt continued telling Remarque her long story. 

       When at last he finished, Gabriel put his tools back in an outside pocket of his medicine bag.  He took Remarque's free hand.  "You're going to be fine," he said. "But you need to take it easy for at least a week.  That means no work."  Gabriel was looking at Stefan as he said this, and Stefan nodded.  "The stitches will come out in ten days.  After that, we'll see."

       Gabriel packed up his bag.  Suddenly he jumped and began to look about him as if he had misplaced something important. His gaze came to rest on Mariah, who was sitting quietly in the wheel contraption, and he relaxed.  "Can Remarque borrow your chair?" he asked.  "The sleeping quarters are in back, and he can’t walk it."

       Mariah jumped precipitously up without saying anything, and watched as the other stable hands helped Remarque into the chair.  Most went with him and Gabriel as he was wheeled towards the back of the building, Gabriel talking in a low voice to Stefan. 

      Mariah found herself alone with Jordan.  "Don't you want to go with them?" she asked ungraciously.

       Jordan shrugged.  "Your master told me to stay with you," she said.  She added a little mischievously, "And to keep you out of trouble."

       Mariah scowled.  "If your master knew the kind of trouble I am, he'd beat you just for talking to me."

       To Mariah's surprise, Jordan laughed.  "Master Stefan knows," she said.  "You're the kind of trouble that would keep Master Gabriel from his horse for half a moon cycle."  Impulsively she took Mariah's hand and said, "I began to think I would never lay eyes on you.  I half-wondered if you were a mindgame."

       Mariah recoiled, which hurt and made her scowl.  Jordan continued, a little contritely, "I knew Master Gabriel wouldn't lie.  But were you really outside the wall?"

       Mariah nodded, her thunder stolen.  "I've seen the wall," Jordan said in a low voice, conspiratorially.    

       Mariah shrugged scornfully.  "Some slaves grow up within sight of the wall," she said.  "But they never go outside it." 

       Jordan frowned angrily.  But she saw Mariah sway, and a quick look of understanding crossed her face.  "We can wait in Master's office," she said.  "He won't mind."  She started to take Mariah's arm but she pulled away.

       "I can take care of myself," she hissed.

       Jordan shrugged and stepped back, indicating that Mariah should precede her back into Master Stefan's office.  Inside, Jordan sat down on a divan chair placed against the inside wall, with a tilt of her head indicating that Mariah should sit next to her.  Mariah lowered herself slowly, as if it made no difference to her.  They sat in silence for a few minutes, each stubbornly staring straight ahead. 

       At last Mariah said, "You trust him, don't you?"

       Jordan looked confused for a moment but then said simply, "Master Gabriel?  Yes, I do." 

       "Why?" Mariah demanded.

       Jordan considered.  At length she said, "I can show you better than I can tell you.  But you have to let me help you walk, or I won't do it."

       Mariah scowled, and then nodded.  Leaning on Jordan, she walked out of Master Stefan's office and into the stable.  Mariah pretended not to be awed by the large animals as they passed, and if Jordan noticed that she clutched at her arm she did not mention it.

       Jordan stepped into a stall on the right.  Mariah started to follow her but stopped short when she saw a large horse turn and walk towards Jordan, pushing its face into her shoulder to nuzzle.  Jordan kissed the horse between its eyes and petted its neck.  She turned to Mariah.  "Look at her," she said softly.  "Her spirit is completely unbroken, yet she is as trusting as a child raised by its mother."

       Mariah watched blankly until comprehension awoke.  "This is Master Gabriel's horse?" she asked.

       Before Jordan could respond, Master Stefan answered from behind her, "Ridden from the far ends of the earth for the express purpose of rescuing you, it appears." 

       Mariah fell to her knees, painfully. Stefan's sardonic half smile turned to a complete frown.  "Get up," he said.  "Gabriel's done enough for me this day that I won't have you hurting yourself in these stables."

       Mariah stood up tall, stubbornly refusing to lean against the wall of the stall for support.  Stefan looked her appraisingly up and down.  "Pity you were ruined instead of making a stable hand," he said.  "We could've turned that bravado into courage."

       Mariah retorted, "If you'd have taught me to ride, I wouldn't come crawling back here every evening, waiting for your lash to fall."

       Jordan gasped, but Stefan just laughed meanly.  He turned to the back of the stable and said sarcastically, "Well, Gabriel, I can certainly see how her charms would snare you so." 

       Gabriel came into view pushing the wheel contraption.  He looked tired and sad, and a shared feeling of contrition came over the three others.  Jordan walked up to him and quietly lay her hand on top of his on the handlebar behind the chair.  "Is there anything I can do for you, Master?" she asked.  As Gabriel smiled a little and shook his head, to Mariah's shock she felt a stab of jealousy, as if she should be the one debasing herself so.  Gabriel's eyes met hers, and his smile seemed to include her.

       "You'd better sit in this contraption, Mariah," he said, "or I might take your place and have you push me home." 

       Mariah obeyed, shamefaced.  As she sat, Gabriel reminded Stefan of his care instructions for the invalid.  Stefan, for once neither sardonic nor sarcastic, said, "Gabriel, I thank you.  A vet would have killed him, I know..."

       Gabriel started to wheel Mariah towards the stable exit.  "Treat him well," he said.  "That will be thanks enough."