Jaime came up to me, his eyes full of menace. “The king,” he said softly, “has no authority here. Do not think you can appeal to outside help. The only mercy, the only justice, is that of Lord Paon and his chosen servant, Minas. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Now, I tell you this for the third and final time. You are being observed. Make any more impertinent remarks and your tongue will be ripped from your skull. It will only make my job easier if it’s gone.” I felt sick in a way that had nothing to do with the cracked skull. All I could do was nod again. “Good. Now follow me.”
I followed him—or rather stumbled, because between my headache, my hunger and the multiple shocks I’d endured, I was feeling none too steady on my feet all of a sudden. To my surprise, he noticed. “Are you that unwell? You should have said.”
“
I’m sorry...going to be sick,” I said, covering my mouth. He swore, and made me sit, where I could do nothing but vomit over myself. Fortunately it was only bile, but it ruined my shirt. I shouldn’t have bothered washing it.
He waited until I was finished heaving, then helped me to my feet. “It’s not far—can you walk?” When I indicated I could, he took me under the arm and kept me steady. It wasn’t far, as he said—a heavy locked door, for which he had an ornate key. To my surprise, there was a suite of rooms that looked almost like those of a normal house—there were even skylights, albeit crossed with iron bars, letting in real light. The contrast with the rest of the temple was astonishing.
He didn’t let me marvel, dragging me into a large and well-appointed bathroom, and telling me to strip. “Toss the clothes into that bin—they’ll be cleaned and kept for you, if you insist on having them back.” Clumsily, I obeyed and sat naked on a stool, waiting for his instructions. “There’s not much hot water, I wasn’t expecting you, but we can clean you a little. Show me the injury.”
I bent my head, then swore as he touched the knot. He made me look up, tilted my head with surprising gentleness as he looked into my eyes. “Hmmm, no concussion. Have you eaten today?”
I shook my head. “Are you a physician?”
“
I have a little knowledge. Enough to know you’re not dying and that something light to eat will settle your stomach. Wash yourself. I’ll bring food and something to wear.”
His demeanour, while cold, was nothing like as harsh as it had been before we entered these chambers, and I wondered if we were still being observed. Somehow I doubted it, but I wasn’t going to assume it until I was told otherwise. Still feeling shaky and sick, I used the small amount of water in the stove heater to take the edge off the water standing in buckets to one side. It had been three weeks since I had been able to afford the public baths, although I’d done my best with well water and thorough scrubbing of my clothes when I could. Already I was benefiting from my prostitution, I thought sardonically.
I assumed the towels were there to be used, so I made use of them, leaving one wrapped around my hips. I walked back into the main chamber which, I saw, really like the front room of any normal home. I could smell food being prepared so I followed my nose—and found Jaime stirring soup on a stove in a small kitchen off to one side. “I told you to wait for me,” he snapped, covering the pot and shooing me out of the room. “Don’t follow me about, there isn’t enough privacy here to waste.”
That remark made no sense to me, but I murmured an apology. He told me to wait in the main area, which lined with books on two walls. There were two chairs at a long table, most of which was covered in books and papers, an area only cleared at one end. From the marks on the wood, I guessed that was where Jaime ate. And whoever he had with him.
I suddenly realised this was my new home. I could have had worse, I thought. There was something reassuring about its normality, although the fact it was an apartment set inside a temple meant it really wasn’t normal at all.
Jaime was back in moment, and had finally shed the ever-present cloak—and his scarf—revealing a fine head of sleek dark hair, and a remarkably handsome, if rather cold, face. Like me, he was wearing a collar and bracelet, apparently indistinguishable from my own, and pale clothes, rather shocking after all the black. He thrust a pair of loose trousers and a tunic at me, along with a pair of felt slippers that had soft leather soles. “Here. Wear them for one day only at a time, and then put them in the basket to be washed. You must be clean at all times, and bathe each day, whether the god orders our services or not. When your hands cease shaking, you will shave and remain clean shaven.”
“
And where do I sleep?” I asked as I slipped the tunic over my head. Rather to my surprise, it was neither black nor wool—instead, a pale linen, soft and expensive feeling. The trousers were heavier but also of linen. They were very comfortable—I got the impression they were designed to fit men of a variety of sizes and heights, another reminder that I was just one in a series of whores rented out for this insane project.
“
With me, of course. There is one bed. Don’t fear, I won’t touch you unless the god orders it.” The sneer was back. “Sit and I’ll bring your food. There, at the table—spill anything on those papers and I’ll beat you to death before Minas gets to know about it.”
I sat obediently, wishing my head would stop hurting and whether his ‘little knowledge’ extended to being able to cure a headache. As he set a tray with bread and soup and a small pot of tea in front of me, I asked him just that. “There are drugs, but I have no access to them. I can ask later if it’s still very bad but I would rather not unless it is. Eat and then you may rest. I don’t use the bedroom during the day, you can consider that your private place until the evening. Don’t touch my things in here, ever. These are my books, my papers, and not for someone like you.”
I ignored the insult, too hungry to be willing to waste eating time on snapping back a retort. The soup was perfect for someone still feeling nauseated, and after half the bowl was gone and some of the bread, I felt a good deal more human. “You have to share your home with...with people like me?”
“
It’s not a home. And yes. There’s not much room, and I like my peace and quiet. Finish, wash your mouth and then go to the bedroom.”
“
Can’t I even have a book to read?”
He stared at me. “You can read?”
“
Of course I can. Everyone in our village can read, except the babies of course.”
For the first time since I’d met him, he looked less than cold. He seemed puzzled. “I never met...I mean, all the previous ones couldn’t....”
“
Were they from Jendon proper or locals? A lot of the locals don’t care, I notice. But we all take pride in our learning. At least, we did,” I amended, thinking of how education had become secondary to mere survival in my home. Yet again, I sent up a silent prayer for rain, the healing liquid that would restore peace and prosperity to my home. “What did...the others...do all day?”
“
Slept—ate. Played card games. None ever asked me for a book.” He seemed to shake himself. “Do you know how to respect such things? I can’t replace them easily. If you damaged one....”
“
Yes, yes, you’ll beat me to death. Of course I respect books—we don’t wipe our arses with the pages if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He watched me finish my meal, and waited until I was sipping the tea which soothed my sore throat, damaged by my vomiting. “I will lend you
one
book. If you treat it well, I will consider lending you another. You may not leave the temple for a fortnight, but after that, you can do so. You will be given a small advance on your wages, you may use it to buy books or whatever you choose.”
“
Do you buy yours from the market?” There were booksellers on the square, but since I had barely money for food, let alone books, I’d not spent any time in them except to ask for work. None of them had ever hired me, so I’d not seen their wares.
“
Some.” He gave me no more information than that. “You’re finished, go to the bedroom.”
“
The book?”
“
Clean your hands and mouth.”
He was serious about this hygiene thing, I could see. I went to the bathroom, washed my face and hands, and used the tooth sticks and mouthwash for good measure. I was now cleaner than any time since leaving my village—at least, physically. When I came out, he insisted on checking my hands like I was a child, and then placed a book into them, an woven embroidered bookmark sitting on top of it. “Use that, don’t mark the pages.”
“
I do understand the concept, you know. Are you always this rude to people like me?”
“
If you prefer not to have the book, that’s fine by me,” he said, all the stiff formality of before back in his voice.
“
No, I want it—I’m sorry, “ I said, putting on my most charming smile. “I know this must be awkward for you.”
If anything, his expression got even colder. “You know nothing, make no presumptions concerning me, and keep your speculations to yourself. Get out of my sight and treat that book with care. Close the door, and don’t come out unless you need to piss. I’ll tell you when the next meal is ready.”
It was a relief to get away from him, and the bedroom was far from the most unpleasant place I’d had to spend time in. It was in fact a spare and airy room, with heavy glass panes in the high ceiling providing plenty of light. There was a large bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, a small table and two chairs. I laid the book down on the table and then spent a few minutes looking in the wardrobe and drawers—clothes and shoes, nothing of any note. I guessed Jaime kept anything precious to him in the main room. I couldn’t tell what was his and what was for my use, but I figured he’d tell me soon enough—he seemed like his personal boundaries, did Jaime.
I sat on the bed, rubbing my forehead. I was tired and still felt sick, so I left the book for later, took off the slippers and stretched out. The bed was very comfortable, almost decadently so, and I wondered if all the priests slept on similar ones. It didn’t seem to go with the image of the place. The blankets and sheets were old but of good quality, as was the furniture. I got the impression these quarters had been used for a long time, and wondered if this was where Jaime had grown up. He was only my age or a little older, although his manner made him seem much more elderly. He seemed an odd person to be in this place—but the entire situation was as strange as it came.
I used my Talent to unlock the collar, and examined it carefully—it was heavy, intricately made of interlocking pieces that were individually engraved. It sat comfortably about my neck, almost like heavy cloth than metal—despite its weight, it was easy to forget I was wearing it after a while. Truly the work of a master silversmith, easily worth fifty silver pieces, or even maybe a gold one—and if I were to try and sell it, I imagine I would not live past the end of the day on which I tried. It seemed to be very old, and I couldn’t work out what the dark metal was. There was something rather creepy about it, so I put it back on and fixed the locking device. It meant I could no longer see it.
I curled up, my emotions in turmoil. On the one hand, my immediate survival was assured, and provided I lasted the two months (for I had already decided to stay the bare minimum and no more, sod the bonus), I would have savings in hand that would keep me for a good while. On the other hand....
Having sex with strangers wasn’t the problem. Jaime wasn’t ugly or that unpleasant that the idea of being fucked by him was repellent in its own right. No, the thing that bothered me was the cold-bloodedness of it. The men who wanted a little fun at night wanted that, wanted me. Jaime thought me repulsive and it was clear the sex was the least enjoyable thing he could conceive of.
Then there was the idea of being on display. I’d watched, been watched, but always by consent and for enjoyment. To have it be so this ‘god’ (probably one of the bloody priests, I thought) could be aroused just seemed as far from enjoyable sex as it was possible to get.
I had no dislike of honest whores, and it was as good a way of separating a man from his coin as any other. But this, this didn’t seem honest or wholesome at all.
Yet, I was caught. I had signed indentures, and I had no other options. My damn pride would just have to be locked up for a few weeks. At least my imprisonment was comfortable.
I slept, dozing on and off for who knew how long, and when I finally roused completely, there was no clue from the light direction. My head felt better, my bladder was full and I was hungry—I presumed it had been several hours at least. Jaime had told me not to leave the room unless I needed a piss (an order which was on the unreasonable side, I thought) so I walked out into the main room with a clear conscience. I still got glared at. “What? I just need the earth closet or what passes for one.”
He pointed towards the bathroom. “Door next to it. Wash your hands afterwards.”
“
Yes, mother.” He didn’t appreciate that comment either.
One need satisfied, I went looking for food. “I told you to stay in the bedroom,” he snapped as I started to walk towards the little kitchen.