the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 7

 

 

There were soldiers everywhere inside the Capitol City.  Laun tried to look demure in the back of the cart, the fabric pulled up over her head like a veil as they passed through the streets.  She caught glimpses of faces very young under the helmets, younger than even most of the wards at Salam-Dir.  Then there were the others that had taken the Dark colors.  Many of them also had a red ribbon tied somewhere on their chest, along with the Blue and Grey baldric as she heard an odd accent to their calls.  Men from Rosemond, and many of them looked like they were ready for a fight.  Any fight.

It had only taken them some of the morning to get to the Capitol City.  It had taken most of an hour to get through the mob of soldiers and bureaucrats at the gate.  Silar had only two coins on him and tried to explain that he was on a mission for a very important person inside.  No, he was not a merchant.  No, she was not his property.  Yes, he was a citizen of the Midlands...

Laun almost spoke several times, but felt that Silar was digging himself in deep enough.  They hardly even looked at her other than to note that she was a she and was pregnant.  Laun remembered names on the lists from the captured documents.  She could have talked her way through.  But...  She did not want to make it easy for Silar.

The coin he had was gone, as well as the basket and one of the sheepskins.  One of the guards had been looking a little too close at Laun for her liking, but they had been able to move into the crowds without much more delay.

With the cart and horse, it took some time to jostle their way through the streets to where Silar was trying to go.  It was loud where there were people, quiet where there were soldiers.  The smells were wonderful and horrible.  She heard grumbles against the King, and against Rosemond.  The cart stopped without warning and started again with a creak and a jerk.  Laun was feeling less than well by the time they pulled up to an enclosed house, the wall and gate right up against the street.

Silar got off the horse and stretched.  He went to the gate and put his hand into a hole beside it.  Laun could not hear anything, but Silar waited by the gate.  The sun was going down behind the buildings.  It was getting cold.  Laun tried to pull on the layers she had in the cart and wrap the cloth around her.  She did not know how long it was going to take for someone to come to the gate.

There were mostly shadows in the street when there was a whispering from the other side of the gate.  Laun heard Silar say, “The Sand that runs through the hourglass is the sand of knowledge.”

The gate opened and Silar led the mule into the yard beyond.

Naked men and women stood along a pathway holding lanterns.  Laun climbed out of the wagon and heard something rip.  She couldn’t tell what, and it really didn’t matter to her.  She followed Silar, her head up and looking around slightly, but not missing a step.

It was warmer inside.  One of the naked women...slave, Laun had to remind herself, started to unwrap the cloth from around Laun.  She cringed, thinking that perhaps Silar was to sell her as a slave.  She would fight that.  Having been free, she would not want to go back to being a slave.  Without the protections Lady Hellon had imposed, she would not be saved from anything, or any body.

Laun saw that it was the upper part of one of her sleeves that ripped, exposing her shoulder scar.  There was nothing she could do about it.  Her gaze went placidly ahead as they followed a slave boy through the sparsely furnished entry hall and through a corridor lined with doors.  He stopped at one and scratched.

There was a sound from inside that sounded like scraping to Laun before they heard, “Enter.”

The slave boy with just a bell on a thong around his waist opened the door for them.  Silar entered first and Laun stepped to just inside the room before the door was closed quietly behind them.  It was a plain looking room, though the furnishings were of high quality, and with a style that favored dark woods and leather on the seating.

Laun could see that there were bare places on the dark wood shelves behind the man looking at them, dust disturbed by books and other objects recently moved.  Since there were no loose items in the otherwise tight and tidy space, Laun could see that something had recently happened that had necessitated the removal of the items.  Her eye had only that glance around the room before the Sand Master stood and took up all of her vision for a moment.

He was not as old as Dreng.  But he had seen much harder days.  Recently, too.  She saw where he had been hurt just above his ear, but the still brown hair there covered much of the wound line, until he turned to look at something.  The cut on his palm, though he tried to keep his hand closed, also told Laun that the Sand Master perhaps was not as in control as he would like people to know.

A hand was offered to Silar and the two men shook hands.  “It has been a while.  Have you brought me a present?”

Silar shook his head, grimacing slightly.  “She is Lady Salam-Dir.”

The Master’s eyebrow went up.  “Truly?  She has quite a hefty price on her head.”

Silar nodded, looking away from Laun.

The Sand Master looked Laun over and saw the scars on her cleavage and shoulder.  “A tough one?”  

“Master, she is one who has gone through much, and has learned much.  Please be careful with her.”  

The Master looked down at Launs’ belly and had a flash of something on his face that Laun thought she could interpret.  “Yours, Fallion?”  

Silar winced at the name.  “No, Master.  Hers.”  

Laun felt a rush through her.  She heard the love, and the regret, in that statement, the tone of his voice.  She had not looked at him directly since entering the Master’s house.  She turned her head slowly, catching Silar’s glance.  She said the first thing to him in days, softly.  “Thank you.”  She turned and looked back at the Sand Master.

Silar had been looking at her directly, feeling like it was for the first time since she had promised not to run.  He felt his stomach fall and knew she saw what those two words did to him.  He looked back at the Master and knew he had seen it, too.

There was a flash of an eyebrow raise on the Master’s face that Laun caught.  “Well, Fallion, you will have to escort the Lady Salam-Dir to the palace yourself to collect the reward.”  He sat back down in his leather-clad chair.

Laun felt more than saw the start from the dark man.  “Master?”

He shook his head and raised his cut glass goblet to his lips.  He swallowed the red wine and said, “The King wishes to personally congratulate the people who have worked for him.  He will give you the reward himself.  From his own hand.  In the Palace.”

Even Laun could see what the Sand Master was implying.  Silar shook his head, but said, “If I must go, I will.  I shall hand her over and take the reward.  That is it.”

Laun thought to herself that she wished that she had the gemmed blade with the crowned assassin’s seal carved into the pommel.  She now knew that it was for the assassination of nobles.  She would have gladly slit the throat of Falmir, even if he was her own father.

The Master lifted and rang a small bell.  Slaves appeared.  “I offer you hospitality for the night, Lady.  It seems you will be meeting with the King tomorrow.”

Laun curtsied and bowed her head as Geralk and Disa had taught her to do.  “I thank you for the simple kindness you have provided me, sir.”  She had a slight difficulty getting back up from even a slight curtsey, but rose back up and looked the Master in the eye.  She saw an amusement, and a condescension in his face.  Laun turned to follow the bare slave and said partially over her shoulder at the door, “I hope the source of your water is not tainted as the pebbles you have been handed have turned out to be.”  Laun saw the look change on the man’s face but was out of the room before he could react more.

The naked woman led Laun to a simple room with a bed and a table.  Laun noted that, even though there was a window in the wooden wall, it was high and not easily accessible.  A proper room to keep people you wanted kept.

Laun sat on the edge of the bed.  Not as comfortable as the tower room, but much better than the rug by the fires.  She smiled.  She sighed.

There was a small scratch on the doorframe from the slave who had escorted her.  Laun waited, but the woman did not speak.  She hardly lifted her eyes.  Laun had to start the talking.

“You wish to ask me something?”  Laun glanced at the slave’s body, tan, lean, about twenty five, though the face could have been forty.

The slave nodded her head.  “The Master has not had women as guests for a while.  Are there things you may need?”

Laun thought that the Sand Master’s slaves talked too much.  “I have simple needs.  A privy.  Food.  And milk.”

There was a flash of indecision on the slave’s face.  “Yes, Lady.”  The door was closed and Laun could hear the faint click of a lock.  As to be expected.

Laun looked around.  There was a lamp in the room, high up and supposedly controlled from outside.  The table was not of a sturdy construction.  Laun remembered a lesson she learned while holding pieces for one of the carpenters in the woodshop.  The way it was joined would split if more than a few stones of force was put on it.  The bed, on the other hand, was solid, and attached to the floor with iron fittings.  The slats were screwed into the frame, the mat a muslin and leather cover over what Laun assumed to be horse hair and wool.  Heavy and sturdy.  The leather on the top would be easily cleaned.  The linens were impeccably clean, the wool blanket double thick and lined with silk.

Laun was sitting in about the same place that she had been when the slave came back.  There was a scratching before the click of the lock and the door opened.  The slave kept her eyes on the ground and said, “Please follow me.  The Master has afforded you the use of his bathing chamber, Lady.”  There was an oddness to the way she said that.

Laun stood and said, softly, “Thank you.”  She went to touch the slave’s arm, but stopped when she saw that the slave shrank away from that touch.  “Please lead the way.”

Laun looked straight ahead as she walked, trying to glide, though her innards had shifted and she wanted to waddle.  She saw more of an indication that not only were there things missing, she saw signs that there had been some sort of a struggle in the house.  A door that she passed had been beaten in recently, a patch job not covering all the damage to the wall and hinges.  The floor leading away from that door had gouges as though something sharp had been dropped, or dragged.  The wood beneath showed it’s true pine color, not the darker mahogany it was made to look like.

Then there was the lamp.  Laun saw immediately as they approached that one of the lamps had been repaired, the colors of the glass not quite matching the others she had seen.  Even the style of the metal work wasn’t quite right.

Another door was opened for Laun and she felt the steam before she stepped into the room.  She looked around, impressed, and yet disappointed.

The floors and walls were of white and silver tiles, a lined design inlayed with them.  A sunken trough was being filled by other slaves, a low hearth surrounded by more tiles holding several more pots of water.  There were stacks of loopcloth toweling.  There were colorful bottles full of liquids and ointments.  And there were obvious watch-holes marring the pattern in the tile.

The route they took from the Sand Master’s study to the room she was briefly in...  Then the route they took to the bathing chamber.  Those watch-holes should be in the wall of the study, she thought to herself.

Laun took a breath and tried to keep her face passive, though pleasant.  She stood and allowed the women to take the remnants of her clothing from her.  She ran her hands slowly down her own skin, trying to look as though she was enjoying being out of the clothing.  She was, but she also knew that at least one pair of hidden eyes was on her.

She used her hands to make some of the scars obvious, and to accentuate some of the things her men seemed to enjoy about her.  She even turned and bent over, showing the roundness of her ass as it looked like she was trying to check out something on her feet.

She stood again and made a silhouette of her belly.  She rubbed it and found that it was itchy.  She missed Ali’s hands and the oil.

Laun caught the eye of one of the slaves.  She smiled before the slave had a chance to look away.  Laun held out her hand to the slave and she hesitantly moved towards the Lady.  Laun took the hand of the smaller woman and placed it on her belly.  There was movement from inside and the slave looked shocked for a moment.  Laun smiled again and put her other hand on the slave’s cheek.  There was a glimmer of a smile before the slave glanced at the wall and dropped her hand and backed away.

That was the confirmation Laun needed.  The Sand Master had seen just about every part of her.  Had seen that she was unafraid to be naked in front of slaves.  That she was friendly and kind, even to slaves.  And if Silar was there next to him, the dark man was hurting.

There was a small flowing water privy to one side.  Laun was enchanted with the idea and wished they had them at the keep.  She felt so much better after holding things in for the last few hours.  She didn’t even mind that those watching could see her relieving herself.

Several of the slaves offered samples of the bathing concoctions from the colored bottles and jars.  She sniffed at each, but did not like any of them.  She looked around and spotted some plain milled soap on a raised tiled platform.  She pointed at that.  A slave brought the soap over and Laun sniffed it.  It was a good tallow soap, a hint of lavender to it.  Laun smiled and nodded her head.

Lather was created and Laun was soaped up and felt wonderful with the hands rubbing on her.  She had to move at least one set of hands when they tried to travel too close to her womanhood.  She was still trying to not think of the night before, the anger still simmering, but she knew that she could get touched off and become willing with the attention she was getting.

She was wiped off with small, wet cloths before being escorted to the sunken trough.  There were two steps down and it was larger than it seemed from above.  It was hot, but as the water enveloped her, she felt so much better.  Her breasts were floating and had no pain as she sat on one of the steps.  One of the slaves stepped into the tub with Laun and began combing out her hair.  She hadn’t really done anything with her hair on the journey and it felt as though a few mats had started up.  Laun knew that she had to just stay still as things were made right.

Another slave slipped in.  She stood in front of Laun and began running another of the small cloths over her neck and shoulders.  She folded the cloth and dipped it into the water before washing Laun’s face.  It felt good, but her eyes were closed.  She did not want her eyes closed.  There was a flash of the darkness, but Laun pushed it down and kept her eyes closed even after the woman had gone back to scrubbing Laun’s shoulders.

Laun realized what the slave was doing.  She opened her eyes and caught the slave’s eyes before she said, “They are not dirt or paint.  They are part of me.”  The pressure let up slightly, though the slave kept running the cloth over her, keeping her shoulders warm as the one behind her worked on the hair.

There were finally long strokes through her hair.  The same soap she had chosen for her body was used for her hair.  It was very relaxing and she let her head tip to the side slightly and closed her eyes.

To rinse, the slave in front of her took her hands and led her down to the bottom and center of the trough.  Laun kept her eyes on the slave in front of her and felt hands on her shoulders.  Laun let herself be tipped back and she was floating in the water.  She looked up into the face of the slave who had escorted her in the house.  There was a slight nervousness to the slaves motions.

Laun shook her head from side to side, the slave behind her holding her shoulders to keep her steady as her hair floated around her head.  There were hands on her ankles lightly supporting her.  Laun was terrified.  She could not see down past her breasts and belly floating above the water.  She was certain that they were going to try to drown her.  Until she felt a familiar touch on the inside of her thigh.

She wanted to give in.  Her body twitched in response to the knowing fingers.  She closed her eyes and relaxed.  She went to the place she had created for herself the night before.  Warm and empty of everything but her heartbeat.  With the water in her ears, she could hear her own heartbeat, water slapping over the sides of the trough, and...perhaps another heartbeat.

She opened her eyes when she felt the motion of the water and the panic that went along with it.  Yes, it was Silar.  He was between her legs, towering over her, at almost the right height to take her as he stood in the water.  She could not read him from that angle, but felt the heat of his manhood against her leg as he stood there.

Laun felt a cold rock in her, but also had a wave of practicality go through her.  She raised her head so that her ears were above the waterline.  She could hear the room noises, so she asked, in a low tone, “What show does he want?”

She could read him then.  He flashed hot and then cold.  Then a longing.  “He just told me to go play with you.”

Laun dipped her head back into the water and raised it again.  The look in her eye should have warned him.  “Then we shall Play.”

She had her legs around him, pulling him to her.  He was surprised.   She used the motion of the water to make her hip movements even slinkier and his hands went to the sides of the tub to steady himself as she brushed against him.  She felt her butt go down when she raised her legs to go around his hips.  The hands under her shoulders were steady.  Laun wrapped her legs around Silars under the water and rubbed his sac with her fur.

His head went back.  She released his legs and just floated until he looked back at her.  She raised her arms and put her hands on the sides of the tub.  She pushed herself towards him and dropped her legs down.  A few trails of soap fell from her hair, bubbles going down her skin as she raised herself from the water.  She stood in front of Silar, his manhood erect above the waterline.  Her hands went to his chest and stomach, her mouth parted and reaching for his.

She smiled and he caught on as she said, “Play.”

The pressure points made him drop.  The water splashed and flowed over the side and across the tile to a drain.  His face was almost in the water.  She stepped back and looked at him.  No, he was not angry, or at least not flushed with anger.  He was taken unawares when she had dropped him.  His face had a combination of pain and ecstasy.

She felt her hunger and the acid coming up.  She ducked down into the water and came back up, her hair more rinsed off.  She stepped back and turned.  The slave had big eyes that were locked onto the dark figure kneeling in the water.

“May I please have some of that milk I asked for?”  Laun smiled and had a sweet tone to her voice.  The slave backed away and scooted out of the tub.

Laun felt the extra movement of the water behind her.  She turned and saw Silar moving to her.  There was a cuttingly cold tone in Laun’s voice as she quietly said, “Stop.”

Silar did so.  He stood with his feet apart and his hands behind his back.  Perhaps some of the anger was coming through, but he knew the game.  It was not safe in the tub.

“Follow me, Fallion.”  He closed his eyes and Laun saw the distaste he had for that name.

Laun turned and slowly went up the tiled steps.  She climbed with her hips over accentuating her movements, knowing how he liked her ass.  A slave was at the top with a large loopcloth to wrap around her.  She enjoyed the feeling of the warmed toweling and stepped away from the edge of the tub.  The slave brought up a towel for Silar and Laun just said, “No.”

The slave backed away.  Silar came out of the tub and was dripping, his manhood very erect in front of him.  Laun motioned to the center of the floor and he walked there, keeping his eyes on her.  She let the towel fall to the tile and turned so that her back was towards the watch-holes.  She could feel drips from her hair falling on her back and butt as she moved.

Laun signaled to Silar.  His knee hit the floor.  Laun brought her hands to her front and signaled, “Blood?”

Silar’s eyes went wide.  She saw the slight nod.  She moved slightly, circling him.  She signaled, “Yours or mine?”

His eyes dropped and she saw him pointing at himself.  She smiled.

She looked around and looked for things to use.  There really wasn’t much in the room, except for the towels.  Laun turned to the slaves lined up along the side.  “May I have three towels, please?  One placed here, one here and one for my prince.”

The slaves did as they were told.  Three towels, spread out and lined up along the floor, the one for Silar ending at his knee.  It was a white aisle on the white tile between Laun and Silar.

Laun felt her fingernails.  They were soft from the water, but they would be enough for the show. She stepped onto the first towel and gently walked across it.  She hardly made an impression on it as she let her hips sway.  As she reached the second towel, her milk arrived.

She was standing there in the heated bathing room, naked and trying to project authority and dominance.  The thought of milk was disgusting to her, but she tried to remember the cream that had been at the top of the milk from home.  The milk was served to her in a crystal cup, cut as the goblet had been in the Sand Master’s hand.  She looked at it and understood why he would have it.  You can see what you are drinking.

She sniffed the milk and did not smell anything off.  It was still warm from a cow.  It was whole and creamy and had a slight tang to it.  It was good.  She slowed her temptation to gulp it to sipping.  It calmed her stomach, both for hunger and the acid.  She dripped some on herself, the droplets going down her damp skin and finding her breast.

Laun’s head tilted and she could see Silar shudder slightly.

“Would you like some milk, my prince?”  He nodded, glancing to the wall with the watch-holes.

Laun took a step closer and put a finger in the milk.  She slowly drew it back out and dripped some of the whole milk on her nipple.  “Crawl to me and you may have some.”

He was on all fours and at her feet within seconds.  “Come on up.  It is up here.”

Silar’s face was at her breast level.  She moved so that her breast was pointed at him and started to pour the milk down her chest. His hands went up and encircled her breast as the milk flowed down and into his mouth off of her nipple.  She stopped pouring and he started to lick the remainder off of her.  His tongue was gentle and he looked at her as he started to suck on her.  It sent a thrill through her, but she stopped her eyes from closing and her head from going back.

He knew he had affected her.  He went to reach for the other breast, but found that he had a thumb being pressed into a tender spot under his chin.  He couldn’t even bite down without causing himself more pain.

Laun had him on his hands and knees again.  “I offered you one.  You do not get two.  You need to understand that I only offer that which I am going to give.”

“Lady, I only ask for what I think I deserve.”

Laun stepped to the side and started to circle him.  “Deserve?  And what, my prince, do you think you deserve?”

His head went down and spoke to the floor.  “You, Lady.”

Her shot was accurate and took him to the floor.  Laun hoped that it was not too much pressure on the kidney.  She was not sure she wanted to really kill him.  She did want to punish him.

“Stand.”

Silar knew that voice.  When he saw her face, the bloodglint was there, but it was tempered this time.  The passion she had inside of her was different.  He stood before her and started to tremble.

“You are starting to remind me of a little quail I once owned.”

Silar was scared.  She had been through her own coming of age and awakening ceremony with the prisoner, with him.  He knew what she had been through, and knew what she was willing, and able, to do.  He was glad she did not have any weapons with her.

Laun stood in front of Silar and finished the milk in the glass.  She held her hand out and let it slip out of her hand.  One of the slaves was there in time to catch it.  It had been close.  She stepped back a half step and flexed her wrists.  She put the one that was still painful back in, Silar hearing the pop.  She drew back that hand, but caught him with her other hand in the throat.

He gasped and stood up straight.  Her fingers were where it would take to crush his windpipe, if she wanted to.

“What makes you think you deserve anything after what you did?”

The pressure lessened, the fingernails still leaving an impression.  “I don’t.”

Laun tilted her head and smiled.  “You understand what has died between us?”

He closed his eyes and nodded slightly.  “Yes, Lady.”

Her hand was gone from his throat.  He opened his eyes and looked down into hers.  “Good boy.”  Her smile was canine to canine and deadly.

She ran her hand down his chest.  He felt the pressure and then the blood from the cuts her nails were leaving.  The sting was not much, but where she was scraping across was easily some of the best bloodflow near the surface of his skin that was not on the face.  There were drips of blood down his dark skin and onto the white towel below.

Her hand moved and one of the front pressure points had him on one knee again.    A hand went to where she had marked him with her teeth.  It was traced lightly and then the hand moved on.

“There have always been choices.”

“Yes, Lady.”

“Some choices you cannot turn back from.”

“Yes, Lady...”  His eyes went to her hand on her belly.

Her voice went low and she raised his chin to look into his eyes.  “Make this a choice you can live with.”  He saw movement out of the corner of his eye before her hand slapped him across the face.

There was more blood on the towel, and on her belly.  She stepped away and kicked him in the middle of the chest. He was surprised and fell back onto the rumpled towel behind him.  She put a heel into his lower abdomen and pressed down, causing enough pain that he was crying out.

  “I once thought I...needed you.  That was before I knew what you were capable of.  Some times I wonder what I did to deserve my fate, my life.  Then I get chances like this.”  She dropped and put her knee into his stomach, making him gasp for air.

“Please, Lady!” he gasped out.  He was writhing on the floor under her.

“I am tired of this.”  She stood and stepped back.

Silar gasped in air and rolled onto his side.  He held his stomach and coughed.

Laun looked around and smiled at the slaves.  In a soft, calm voice, she said, “May I have my clothes and be shown back to my room?”

There were several slaves who looked at each other.  One shuffled to the torn tunic that had been rumpled and left to the side.  It had become damp.

Laun tilted her head and looked at the slave in front of her.  She gently put her hand on the quivering slave’s cheek and brought her head up.  Laun looked into her eye and smiled.

“It seems my clothes have become wet while I was in the tub.  Is there something else I may wear?”

She nodded and shuffled out of the room.  Laun turned and kept an eye on Silar.  He was on his knees, holding his side, looking at the blood drops on the white towel under him.

“Laun-”

“Who gave you permission to speak?”  Laun’s tone was harsh, her voice suddenly gravelly.  Silar winced.

Laun walked towards him, stopping a few paces from him.  “You obviously have something to say, my prince.  Tell me what you have to say.”

Silar glanced at the wall.  “Lady, I wrongly pledged myself when I came to this continent.  I had been promised...what I did not receive.”  He sat up a little straighter.  “You gave me what I had been looking for, but I wanted-”

“More than I was willing to give.”  Laun put herself between Silar and the wall again.  She signaled, “don’t speak.”

Laun continued to circle Silar.  “You know that I am disappointed in you.  We learned much from each other, you taught me much more than you think you did.  For that, I thank you.  I had hoped that your past had not followed you.  I was wrong.  Tomorrow, I will face the usurper.  You will take me to him.  You will receive your reward for your treachery.”

Silar had slumped forward slightly as she spoke.  Laun went to him from behind, putting her hand on his head.  He straightened up under her touch.  She ran her fingers through his almost black hair until she had a handful at the nape of his neck.  She pulled his head back and pulled him against her belly.

They looked into each other’s eyes.  Laun softened her face, her damp hair making a curtain between them and the wall.  Her voice was low and soft as she said, “I think I understand.  I am sorry for any pain I caused you when I rejected you.  I forgive you your actions.”  Silar’s eyes closed for a moment.  “Keep your rage between us.  Please do not betray the one hundred forty four people left in the keep.”

She felt a pull on her hand as he tried to nod.  She smiled, a tired smile.  Then it passed and she was ice cold.

Silar was on his face as the knee in his back hit him right above his sore kidney.  Laun straightened and walked away from him.  She was still looking at him, her hands locked together under her belly.  It was starting to get a little cold in the bathing room.  Laun did not move, but asked, in a clear, soft voice, “Where are the clothes I asked for?”

One of the slaves came forward with a towel and handed it to Laun.  She held it out for a moment, but then draped it across her shoulders under her hair.  She so desperately wanted to let Silar know that she wanted to take him right then.  But she couldn’t.  Not with the type of audience they had.  She was not going to let the Sand Master see any more of her weaknesses.

Or...  Laun stepped out onto the tile from on the towel, looking like she was going to sit on one of the tiled platforms on the edge of the room.  She took a step and ‘slipped’, going down almost to one knee and then falling sideways.  The sound of skin hitting tile was loud in the room.

She groaned, not all in falseness.  She knew how to fall and had not wanted to fall directly onto the tile.  But, in unbalancing herself, her hip hit the floor harder than she had intended.  She curled up around her belly for a moment, hearing a scramble on the tile coming towards her.

His warm hands were on her back.  He was gently stroking and putting pressure on places that normally would be good to relieve her pain.  It felt good.

She also heard the hidden door open and the footsteps of the Sand Master on the tile.  “Is she...?”

Laun stretched slightly.  “I’m right here.”  Her voice was level, though she tinged it with weariness.  “I am tired of all this.  I wish to go to bed.  I have a king to see tomorrow, after all.”

The footsteps stopped.  Laun turned and saw the older man past Silar’s shoulder.  There was a serious look on the Sand Master’s face.  Laun pushed herself up off the tile and knelt, keeping a hand on her stomach and rubbing her hip.  Silar had a pained expression.

The Sand Master moved around Silar and offered his hand to Laun.  Laun took it, but barely used it to help herself up.

“Lady Salam-Dir, please take my apologies for his disturbing you.”  He bowed slightly over her hand in his.

Laun stood straight and looked the information gatherer in the face.  “I take your apology as you intend it, Sand Master.”

There was a twitch at the corner of his eye.  “Shall I escort you to a room so you may rest?”  He motioned towards the door.

“Thank you.”  Laun paused and waited for the man to start walking.  It was as if he was expecting her to say something else.

Laun sighed.  “Please, no more games.  I am tired.  I am hungry.  My reactions to things right now are somewhat...extreme.  The only reason I did not kill Fallion is you now need him to take me to the Palace.”

Another twitch and then the Sand Master said, “I hope that your meeting with the King goes well tomorrow.”  He started to walk, still holding her hand as if he were supporting her weight.

Laun, toweling around her shoulders, walked beside the man, head up and a measured step.  She heard Silar’s bare feet on the tile behind them.  “We never know what tomorrow will bring us on the water, do we?”

She saw the slight movement of his head out of the corner of her eye.  “Yes, Lady.  Though, as you noted earlier to me, the waters have been...muddied.”

Laun stopped and he moved to face her.  “I would say, silted, Sand Master.”

His eyebrow went up.  “I see, Lady.  A different view.  I still prefer the pebbles I can gather.”

“It is a shame some of your pebbles have been stolen.  I know they cost you dearly.”  Laun saw the twitch again, his hand going limp under hers.

“Do you know of the pebble, Lady?”  She heard a hint of something in that, a hysteria.

She stopped and turned to him.  “It does not concern me and our meeting is purely part of fate, Sand Master.  It just...”  Laun went to turn away.

His hand became strong and gripped hers.  “What?”

Laun looked at her hand and he dropped it.  “I am surprised that one of your standing let...the pebble...get taken from you.  You have gone through much expense to cover it up, though I am sure it will take more than you reasonably have available...”

Laun stood there and saw the raggedness that the man had right below the surface.  He was coloring at his neck, the red spreading up and out.  His breathing was shallow and the twitch would not stop at the corner of his eye.  She saw on the hand that had been under hers light spots around his fingers that showed where long-worn rings had once been.  The nails on that hand were striped with white and seemed fragile with the splits she saw.  The collar of his tunic was in need of not just repair but a new trim.  And one of the buckles on this velvet vest was slightly crushed, though he had tried to still use it to fasten the garment together.

Laun brought her hand up and put it on his chest, startling him.  “This has been a pointless conversation.  Please, I ask for the hospitality you offered.  A bed.  A tunic.  A meal.  That is all I ask for.”

He nodded absently and opened the bathing chamber door for her.  The slave outside the door was startled.  She was holding a tunic over an arm and had been reaching for the door.  Laun took the tunic and pulled it on, the overly big thing draping and pulling from it’s own weight along it’s neckline.  But it was warmer than the towel.

The Sand Master held out his hand and Laun took it.  She held up the long skirt as she walked.  They went another way through the house and Laun saw even more points along the way that showed that there had been a struggle, and that the maintenance had not been quite right for a while.

It was not the same room.  It was quite more opulent, with windows you could look out of along one wall.  There was a canopied bed on a slightly raised platform on one side and a large fireplace with leather clad chairs near the protective grating opposite.  There were mirrors on most of the walls reflecting the light from the colored glass lanterns.  Laun saw a slave chained to the end of the bed.

Laun had several things flash through her head as she stepped into the room.  How beautiful the carving on the bedstead was.  Where the best place to push her knuckles in to take the Sand Master down.  How sleepy the slave looked.  That there were multiple bare footsteps behind them in the hall.

The Sand Master motioned to the chairs by the fireplace.  As they walked towards the seating, several slaves brought more wood and stoked the low fire.  Laun allowed herself to be seated in one of the chairs and felt a relief as all her body relaxed into the smooth leather.  There was padding underneath and it was nice to be supported as she sat.

He sat across from her, a look in his eye she was not sure she liked.  This was his room.  She had been brought into where he felt most comfortable.  He was not going to let her just find a place to sleep.  He needed something.

Silar knelt next to her chair, his head down.  She noted that there was a flash of... jealousy?...in the Sand Master’s face.  She reached over and started stroking Silar’s head.  It felt comforting to her, and she saw the reactions from both the men.

The Sand Master leaned forward.  He looked a Laun.  “Who trained you?”

Laun tilted her head and thought for a moment as she looked at him.  “Many people over the years.  But-you know I cannot tell you who my last Master was.”

He nodded and sat back.  “I have not heard of you before.”

Laun shrugged.  “I have been... I think sequestered is the word.  Until I was needed.”  She felt Silar’s head lean into her hand.

The older man turned and said, “Food.  And my wine.”

Slaves scattered and left them.  He turned back and looked at the fire.  “You are...unusual, Lady.”  Laun just nodded and looked at him.  She knew he could see her in the corner of his eye.  “I was surprised to see Fallion, much more surprised to see he had one of the bountied nobles on his arm.”

Laun just blinked at the man.  Her face was bland, as though they were discussing the weather.  “What noble Lady would not want to be on the arm of such a handsome prince?”

The Sand Master’s head came around and he squinted at her.  “Did he tell you he was a noble himself?”

“No.”  Laun said it softly and looked at Silar, his eyes closed and leaning more into her strokes on his head.

“The person who told you must have been far into the greyworld to know of that information.”

Laun shook her head slightly, feeling the dampness of her hair still clinging to her.  “As one from the guild, you should know that tasty bits never stay on the same trencher.    And his is a tasty story.”

The door opened and several trays were brought in.  Small tables were placed in front of them.  Glass plates were set before them, crystal goblets with red wine to the side.  The chained girl crawled to next to her Master and looked at him.

Laun saw both hope and apprehension in her face.  She was a little too skinny.  Her eyes were glazed over and she seemed weak.

Pieces were cut from the meat in front of him and fed to her.  She ate and swallowed, her Master watching carefully.  He fed her some of the cheese and then waited.  He did the same thing with the bread.

Laun could see that he was paranoid about being poisoned.  Laun knew she should be cautious, too, but she thought that if someone was after him, either everything would be tainted or just his.  She took bites of each herself, finding them quite bland.  The cheese had the most flavor.

Laun was very hungry.  She ate most of what was on her plate, watching the fastidious way her host ate.  Pushing things off to the side he did not like.  Cutting everything into very small parts before eating it.  Having wine after almost every bite.

“Drink.  I have it brought in from Rosemond.”  He lifted his crystal goblet and had another sip.

Laun slanted her head towards him and said, “I would prefer tea, or milk.  Because of the baby.”

His eyes closed briefly.  “I should have realized.  Milk for the Lady.”

Laun lifted the goblet and offered it to him, saying, “It has been poured.  I would hope you would enjoy it for me.”

A slave came and moved it from her hand to his.  “Thank you, Lady.”

Laun noted that a slave was behind him, watching the master of the house.  His hand came in and removed the empty goblet before the other one was set down.  A metal decanter was used to pour out more of the wine and the slave waited to swoop in and replace the goblet when needed.

“How long have you worn the bell?”

Laun sat back.  “Never openly.  But I have worn it as I have used my talents on those given to me to let them know why they are with me.”  She felt Silar shiver under her, and she saw the Sand Master’s eye go to that motion.  “I will tell you that I started low and worked my way up.  And that there was blood along the way.”

Her host’s eye flicked to the mild smile she had and up to her eyes.  “Your scars do tell of quite a past, Lady.”

She shrugged.  “As my prince would say, every scar shows strength.  I have left quite a few as well.  Some never to be healed.”  She wanted to take the knife she had alongside her plate and create more scars on Silar.  Find places where he did not have scars, yet.

She found that the knife was in her hand, her thumb stroking along it’s hilt.  “Should I be worried, Lady?”  The Sand Master’s goblet was poised before his mouth as he watched her stroke the knife.

She raised it up and looked at it.  “No.  I do not have a warrant for your death.”

That completely changed his face.  “Lady?”

Laun seemed to dismiss a thought with a wave of her hand as she put the knife down.  “It’s nothing.  I was just regretting having left a certain jeweled knife at my steading.”

Silar yet again shivered.  The eyes of her host took that in again and narrowed his eyes at his guest.  “Jeweled knife?”

Laun leaned forward, bringing both of her hands together in her lap.  Silar’s eyes opened and he turned his head enough so that he could watch the Sand Master.  “I should not have mentioned it.  I am tired.  I sometimes forget myself when I am tired.  I do wish to thank you for your food this evening.  It was good to have such good company while having it.”  Laun was still hungry, but felt she could not eat any more.  She moved the plate off the small table and handed it to Silar next to her, giving him the knife on top.

The Sand Master watched, his mouth open slightly as the trust she showed in that moment shined.  Or was it simple control?   His mind tried to sort that out, but he also wanted to see if the eddy of information she was dripping out was actually what he thought...  “Lady, would that knife have an onyx jewel in the pommel?”

Laun smiled sweetly.  “How did you know?  It also has a collection of other stones on the hilt.  Gems earned, Sand Master.”  Laun thought of Lady Hellon.  “The base was a present from my Mistress-”  Laun tried to look shocked.

She saw a satisfaction go through him.  “Pebble trained you.  I have not seen her in a decade.”

Laun shook her head.  “I cannot say, Sand Master.”  Laun tilted her head.  “Would she approve of multiple disciplines?”

He sat back and she saw a small shake to his head.  “You are a puzzle, Lady.”

A goblet of milk was presented to Laun.  She smiled at the slave and lightly touched his hand before he moved away.  She sniffed it and felt that it was colder than the last glass.  It worked as well at keeping the acid at bay.

She swallowed and again felt a little fall from the rim of the goblet.  Laun wiped her chin with her thumb.  It was more than just a little.  She reached down and presented it to Silar.  She steadied herself and felt his mouth around her, licking to clean and then licking for effect.  She could not stop all of her outward reactions, so she closed her eyes and sighed.

“I will miss that.”

“Do you wish him for the night?”  Laun heard the seriousness in the voice.

Laun opened her eyes and looked straight at the Sand Master.  “You can only offer that if you own his contract.  Otherwise, it is his to offer, not yours.”  She felt Silar bite slightly and start sucking.

Her host smiled.  “Well played, Lady.  No, he paid that contract off years ago.”  He narrowed his eyes at her.  “You would trust him in your bed?”

Laun nodded once.  “Even now, I trust him with my life.  Yes, he betrayed me.  But he has only treated me well and has my best interests as his.  This will be an interesting...opportunity.”

“It is no wonder there is such a large price for you.  It isn’t your title he is after, is it?  It’s you.”

Laun pulled her hand away from Silar and placed her hands in her lap.  “Sand Master, I have met him once.  But I can say for certain that if it wasn’t for him, I would not have been through what I have.”  She looked around.  “He has effected many people.  Some more directly than others.”

She saw the shock flash through him.  Laun tried not to smile, but one snuck out and she returned to stroking Silar’s head.  Laun took a chance.  “I hear he treats his... guests well.  Do not be afraid for their well being.”

The clenching of his jaw told her it was a direct hit.  He calmed himself and looked at the fireplace.  She followed suit and leaned away from Silar.  Laun tapped on Silars’ head.  He nodded and she put her hand in front of his face, making a ‘female’ symbol.  He shook his head.  She continued to stroke his head as her host turned back and she could see that he was looking at her profile.

He blinked.  She could see that at the edge of her vision.  She knew he had just put her lineage together.  It was the nose.  She smiled slightly thinking of Dreng, his nose so much more prominent.

Laun tilted her head and leaned on her hand to look at her host.  “All of this talk must be bringing up things you do not wish to think about.  I am sure he is well.  May I be shown to a bed so I may rest?”

The Sand Master turned and said, “Clear this!”  His goblet hand went out and the dull metal decanter was there to refill his favorite wine.  The two tables were gone, the plate that Laun had handed down taken away.  Another goblet of milk was offered and Laun smiled up at the servant, a flash of a smile on his face before he backed away.

“Lady, I offer you the use of my room.  I have...arrangements for later and would not be using it.”

Laun stood as her host did.  “I thank you for a most entertaining evening.”  She offered him her hand, which he took and bowed over.  “I hope that we will be able to have such a conversation again, as colleagues.”

He stood and said, “Yes.  You have interesting sight for someone so young.”

Laun stood and watched as the Sand Master left, most of the slaves following him out.  She sat, letting her tiredness show.  It was far later than she wanted it to be and she was starting to ache all over.  At least her stomach was happy.  The little movements from within her told her that the baby was well.

The two slaves Laun knew were still in the room were the tasting slave and the man who had been serving her food and milk.  She felt a twinge of regret for both of them.  The girl was still by the chair, leaning against it and vaguely looking at Silar.  Laun still had half a glass of milk in her hand.  She stood and stepped to the girl.

She cringed away.  Laun maneuvered herself down to the floor and put the glass on the rug in front of the slave.  “Drink.”

It took a moment, but the glass was between both the girl’s hands.  Sip by sip, waiting between each sip.  Laun was happy she could help for this night.

Laun stood, with the help of the chair.  The tunic was cumbersome.  Her hip was starting to hurt where she had landed earlier.  She wanted to be in her own bed.  She wanted...

She was not in her home, amongst her household.  She was pretending to be someone she wasn’t in a very dangerous place.  And tomorrow, she was going, most likely, to her death.

She turned to Silar.  “Can you stand?”

He nodded.  He looked tired, too.  It took a moment, but he was on his feet and stretched slightly.  “Lady?”

She looked at him.  She knew him.  She did not know him.  He knew her.  He did not know her.

She held her hand out to him.  “One last night before my life is taken from me.”

He stepped to her and wrapped his arms around her.  She felt his warmth and laid her head on his shoulder.  Tears came out, trailing down his bare chest.

His hands went down her back and pressed in.  Her belly was between them, but not keeping them apart.  Laun put her arms around his neck.  Her lips were close to his and he looked down at her.  He looked into her eyes and saw the simple, clear eyes he knew.  The hazel with the gold and green, not the darkened bloodglint.  Or the hatred she had glared at him while on the road.  It was just Laun.

Their lips brushed each other and then the kiss lasted for minutes.  It was gentle, almost motionless.  They both opened their eyes and parted.  Laun started to pull the tunic off over her head.  Silars hands were there to help.  The folds of fabric were on the floor and Silar was holding Laun’s hand as they made their way to the canopied bed.

Laun looked on the posts that held up the canopy fabric.  There were series of hooks and rings embedded in the wood.  And more mirrors.  Laun crawled into the bed and Silar went around the bed to release the side panels.

He came to sit next to her and she put her hand to his shoulder.  “You have been in this bed before.”

He nodded, not looking away.  “I prefer your company.”  Something went across his face and he lowered his eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

Laun gripped his shoulder.  “I know.  Very little can be done about it now.”

“Why...”

Laun tilted her head.  “Why, what?”

Silar shook his head.  “Too many questions.  I want to know why you didn’t take me out when you had me in the bathing room.  I want to know how you could see that he had his apprentice kidnapped.  I want to know...”

Laun leaned forward and said, “None of it makes any difference.  This may be my last night before going to the God’s embrace.  Help me remember the joy I have had in my life.”

He leaned forward and said, “Yes, Mistress.”

 

to Chapter 9 - To meet the False King