Bilal and Mistress Octavia Pt. 01

The whip lashed again and again. I lost count of how many times, and I tried my hardest to go away inside so as not to hear. Pierre had fallen silent as the jeering of the crowd grew louder. I felt sick.

--

The path we traveled was more a trail than a road. The wagons swarmed with mosquitoes, and Master Erasmus had made the slaves throw fine nets over the frames of the wagons. As we made our way I saw one thrusting tongue after another as the mosquitoes attempted to penetrate the net. I felt sick to my stomach again. Marguerite had warned me about outbreaks of swamp fever, and the disgusting mosquitoes were known to carry it. The slaves were mostly quiet, afraid of arousing Master Erasmus's ire, but when his horse moved ahead of the slave wagon, some of the tension lifted.

All around us were bogs and trees, and I heard the sound of thousands of animals I could not hope to identify. I assumed there were things like frogs and birds in the bogs, but the other sounds were a mystery to me. The land was extraordinarily flat, which was a shock coming from the hills and mountains of Kashak. For a moment I thought I felt rain, but it was only the heavy mist of the swamps.

The slaves muttered among themselves, and I sat back, too upset to talk. We came to the bank of a river. Across the dark, murky waters was a great mansion. It was too far for me to see it especially clearly, but I could tell it was big, and was surrounded by farm fields. Kashak, my homeland, is a hot place. Many foreigners comment on the heat and dryness. This land was similarly hot, but the land here was like the middle of a monsoon. I felt I would never be dry, as my sweat stubbornly stuck to my miserable skin.

There was a shabby barge, and Master Erasmus ordered us to board amid shouts and insults. The men quickly piled onboard. Pierre had become conscious by now, but he was weak and another man had to help him on the barge. Another ship. Fortunately the voyage was not long. As we approached the manor, I saw dark shapes in the murky waters. As we came closer, I saw that the mansion was not on another river bank, but an island. A brilliant way to keep slaves from escaping, I thought grimly. Later when I would learn about the monsters in these depths, I learned how right I really was.

We docked at a small wooden pier and Master Erasmus and his guards disembarked. "Stay back!" he shouted as we crowded toward the pier, and he cracked his whip mere inches from us. "I will tell you when to come!"

He and his men left the slaves all alone outside. Were the masters of this place so confident? The slaves started to chatter, and I felt chills. From one prison to another, to yet another. There was something odd about this place, other than the obvious, but I couldn't put my finger on it. After several minutes Master Erasmus came out with a tall slender man wearing spectacles, and a man with heavy ginger sideburns. They were both dressed in lavish finery next to Erasmus's plain tunic, trousers, and bare head. There was low muttering among the slaves, we fell silent when Master Erasmus cracked his whip.

The ginger headed man stepped forward first. His hands and neck clinked with jewelry, and he wore a gem studded, plumed hat with a wide brim. His clothes were impossibly fancy and would be ruined if he came anywhere near the fields. With greedy rich men such as him, that was often the point. He looked young, not over forty. "My name is Julian Fontaine, and I am the master of the estate you all now belong to me. This will be your home and place of work for the next seven years." He indicated Erasmus and the thin man, "These are my brothers. You have already had the pleasure to meet Master Erasmus. You will answer to him if your work or behavior is in any way unsatisfactory." The fat man scowled. "This is Master Victor. He is my administrator and you will be taking orders from him." Master Victor was the spectacled man, and was tall and thin. His face looked like he hadn't smiled in years. "He will give you your work and boarding assignments. If you refuse any order or assignment we give you, you will be punished harshly." This drew a smirk from Master Erasmus.

"You are not to address me or anyone else directly except Master Victor and Master Erasmus. When your term is up, you will be released in accordance with Vaulish law. Do not try to escape here. The water is infested with any number of creatures that will eat you alive and the bounty hunters in our employ are world-renowned." He left us to our fate at the hands of the other men.

Master Victor showed us to our housing, such as it was. They were huts, or more accurately shanties. I shared mine with two other men, and there were straw beds on the floor and a poorly-made hearth that looked as if a strong wind would send it crashing down. There was a single rough wooden bench in the hut's corner.

Filthy and sparse as it was, I preferred this to the ship. At least I could stretch without touching another man's arse. There was the question of my pack. I carried my qanun and spyglass, two items that I would likely have no chance to replace if they were stolen. I had no choice but to always keep my pack with me. I doubted it very much that our masters cared much about the fate of our belongings, so perhaps I could find a place to stash them.

--

We were to get right to work. There was an endless list of tasks around the estate. Tend the crops, mend fences, fetch water, load and unload the barge. I wondered how much I could push my luck with Master Erasmus. He would shout insults and crack the whip over my head. His nickname for me was "Savage." He wasn't much creative with his names, but he made an art form of hateful curses.

One day they had me patch one of the mosquito nets that went over the wagons. Then it occurred to me. The strange thing about this place is that there wasn't a mosquito in sight. No buzzing in my ear, no itchy bites or swamp fever. I wondered how they did it. In the city, I supposed that the pungent fires were an attempt to repel the disgusting little things. But there was nothing like that here.

The estate had a slave that would work part time as a butcher that cleaned and gutted livestock for the estate and sale in St. Tremay. On my fourth day there I met Master Victor behind the butcher. "Your performance has been disappointing, Bilal, son of Balam. Because of your lack of experience or skill, we are giving you trial tasks. Once we find one that suits you, you will be assigned." Anything was better than farm work. My muscles were sore, my hands were blistered, and I had still found nowhere to stash my belongings. A bloody man came out pushing a wheelbarrow. The wheelbarrow was filled with buckets of bloody guts. A pig's severed head sat grotesquely on the top of the buckets. I had never had a stomach for this sort of thing and I gagged at the sight. When I recovered my composure I looked back up at Master Victor. Did I detect amusement behind the spectacles?

"You will feed these pig entrails to Colette, who is located in the pond at the center of the estate."

I gaped, "Colette? Who-?"

"She is an alligator. A beloved pet of the family. Run along now." My eyes watered with disgust, but I knew disobedience would bring Master Erasmus's whip.

I had never heard of such a beast. I wondered what the word for alligator was in Kaskaki. Master Victor did not seem in the mood for questions, so I took hold of the wheelbarrow and pushed it out to the murky pond. I belched and gagged at the sight and smell of the guts. If this was what they would have me working on, it was a nightmare. I wondered if any job indeed was better than farmwork. Maybe Master Julian would make me his jarya. I had assumed that an alligator was some kind of fish or maybe a bear since it lived near the water. But who would keep a bear somewhere like this?

Most of the pond's water was obscured by reeds and cattails. I couldn't see anything in the water. I was sure I heard frogs, but couldn't spot any. Not for the last time I wondered what I had got myself into. I parked my wheelbarrow at the edge of the pond and considered its contents. I suppose I should pick up the pig's head first. The head seemed mostly intact and seemed to mock me with its eyes.

The head was heavier than it looked, and I fumbled it as I picked it up. Blood splattered on me and the head thudded at the edge of the pond. My dear readers, I require your imagination for this next part. Think of one of the tiny lizards that scurry under rocks in our homeland. Think of their scales, their tails, their sprawling legs. Now imagine it with a thick armored hide. Now imagine its snout stretched forward and filled with hundreds of teeth. Now imagine such a creature the size of a cow. What came from the depths of this serene pond was a creature straight out of my nightmares.

This creature jumped up out of nowhere. I had seen no sign of it in the pond as I had approached it. Water splashed everywhere and the creature made a growling hiss as it seized the pig's head in its jaws. This thing was nothing like I had expected, and indeed, nothing I had even imagined. I fell over backwards, hitting the ground with a thud. I was simultaneously stunned and terrified. At first I thought I was facing a dragon, and feebly covered my face with my hands to protect myself from its flames. The creature was mad with bloodlust and spun like a glass blower's pole, only so much faster. The pig head whipped around in its jaws and blood and water flew.

I crawled backwards, too terrified to do anything else. I thought that the gates of Jannam had opened and one of Shaitan's demons had emerged. The beast charged up the land, mouth open, revealing what seemed like hundreds of teeth. It thrashed and twisted and snapped, and the wheelbarrow tipped, splashing its gristly cargo on the ground. The crazed beast attacked the disgusting piles and the bloody guts disappeared down the beast's gullet like a rock down a well. It seemed to revel in the terror it was causing. I tried to get up, but my trembling legs would not obey me. I could only crawl backwards, my insides turned to jelly. Within a few seconds, all that was left was blood on the pond's shore and the beast, Colette, slid lazily into the water. I noticed that she swam with only her eyes and nostrils above the water. No wonder she had surprised me!

She slipped into the reeds and I felt a little strength return to my poor legs. I frantically picked up the bloody buckets and righted the wheelbarrow. I checked to make sure I hadn't shit or pissed and was relieved to find that I had not. I turned around to return to the butcher, my arms trembling and sweat covering my body. In my heightened state, I noticed something. Up at the mansion's third floor there was movement in a window. I turned toward it just in time to see a person pull the curtains shut. I always notice a lady, no matter how brief my view. A lady had been watching me from inside, and I felt a tiny prickle of lust pierce through my fear.

Why was she watching me? Did she want to amuse herself seeing the poor coward almost shit from her precious Colette? Did she want to make sure her pet ate well? Or was there something else?

When I returned there was a distinct look or amusement on Master Victor's face seeing me so disheveled. So this was the kind of thing that made him smile. "How was Colette?" He chuckled.

"I never see alligator before! It kill me!" I was working on my Vaulish, but in this state, I probably couldn't have said much more in Kashaki.

"Clearly this isn't the job for you. It won't do to have our workforce eaten. Return to your normal tasks. I will summon you if I need you."

My hands were still trembling when I made it out to the fields. The pond was central to the estate, and quite big. I always watched it out of the corner of my eyes. What would happen if Colette got hungry? Sure, Master Victor said they didn't feed their workers to the monster, but what kind of fool thought he could stop it from doing exactly that? In my youth, I often felt ashamed of my cowardice. I had been taught a man was supposed to be a warrior, strong and valiant. Looking back, I cannot count the times my fear saved my life. I would be sliced up on a battlefield, or had my head broken in a bar room, or devoured by one of the world's many monsters. Cowardice beats courage any day.

--

The next day it started to rain. It reminded me of the monsoons back home, and at first I felt a pang of nostalgia. Would I ever see my beloved Kashak again? I thought of our capital city, so magnificent that we simply called it "the city" and anyone in the wide world would know that you meant the gem of the empire. It was strange. There were always floods in Kashak during the monsoon. Of course we were used to it and knew where not to build and when to head for high ground. But this place was right on the river. If there was a decent flood here... But surely this mansion had stood for decades. The thought faded into the back of my mind as I busied it with feeling sorry for myself.

The thing about hard rain is that it is best enjoyed from inside. Hearing the rushing on your roof and outside, warm by the fire with a hot cup of tea and candied dates. It was an exquisite feeling. Being trapped out in the deluge, however, was torment. The ground sucked my feet, and I feared my beloved qanun would warp. Someone shouted my name, and I turned sluggishly to see who. Master Victor approached me, one of the servants holding an umbrella over him. "Bilal, there you are. Come with me."

I approached him, "Some problem, Master Victor?"

"Be silent, I will tell you what you need to know. Follow me." He turned and I followed him to the mansion, my miserable feet squelching in the mud. The mansion loomed over us with its bright windows in the dim of the clouds. We went in the back entrance to a vestibule adjacent to Master Victor's office. There was a bench, hooks for coats, and a sturdy trunk in the corner. I thanked God to be out of the rain.

"Thank you, Master Victor. Much rain."

"I told you to be silent. There are dry clothes and a towel in the chest," he indicated a footlocker on the floor. "Change and I will return momentarily." He left for his office and I eagerly disrobed. It felt heavenly to be out of the wet clothes, and I dried myself all over with the towel. Like before, I never truly felt dry in this God forsaken bog, but I was no longer soaking and miserable. The clothes were Vaulish style. There was a pair of trousers, a shirt, a cap, and a pair of shoes. Everything was here.

I lifted the shirt out of the chest, and almost dropped it right then. It shined in the lamplight and was delicately smooth. Silk! I had touched silk cloth before, but in my wildest dreams I couldn't afford something like this. It felt exquisite on my bare skin once I donned it. The pants were of an unfamiliar material, but were similarly fine, and fit my body surprisingly well. It was even snug and comfortable over my ram. The cap was also of silk, and was a striking maroon. It was one of the bag-like caps that were popular with Vaulish merchants. It held a brilliant yellow plume. The shoes were snug and comfortable, better than any pair of shoes I had ever had. I felt sad there was no mirror to view myself. Vanity is, of course, a sin, but it was a sin I would indulge when I had the opportunity.

So what was the purpose of these clothes? They weren't even good for work even inside, and it would be a crime to wear them out in the rain like this. Master Victor returned. He eyed me. Something passed across his face, but it disappeared before I could catch it. "Come." he sniffed. We opened a side door into a great hallway. There was a double flight of stairs stretched to both sides of a wide landing. There were white marble rails and beautiful rugs that looked to be the kind we made in Kashak. A crimson carpet covered the hardwood floor that led to the stairs. The walls were lined with oil lamps and portraits of stuffy, pale, well-dressed men. I supposed these were past patriarchs of the Fontaine family. I had never seen such opulence. All the men had stern, pretentious expressions and I felt as if each one disapproved of me just for existing. Their eyes followed me as I walked, or so it seemed. The walls were of beautifully carved wood, and were quite well crafted. There were several doors on each side of the hall, and a double door to the estate outside. I could hear the roar of the rain from here.

"You are to ascend to the third floor," Master Victor looked like he smelled a fart. I could tell he didn't even like me inside here, as if he thought I would piss on the carpet. "Do not touch anything. You are fortunate to even be here, and are to be judged if you are fit to work within the hallowed walls." I knew he would be angry if I rolled my eyes. "You must mind your manners. You are not safe from Erasmus's whip here. Now begone, do not dawdle." I didn't ask questions. It wouldn't do me any good with this bore of a man anyway.

The stairs were wide and not a single one creaked when I stepped on it. I felt my heart pound. What awaited me up here? The marble rails were cold in my hands. On the second floor were all variety of trophies from around the world. There was a western style suit of armor, and a towering white bear stuffed and snarling. I had heard of white bears in the far north, but now I knew it was not just a legend. The walls held paintings of far off lands, and I even spotted the skyline of the capital city. There were vases that looked like antiques from the Dragon Kingdom. Honestly it was hard not to touch anything. But I was not here to sightsee.

My head came level with the third floor. There was only a single staircase leading up, and as it crested the floor, I could see the room was considerably smaller and not quite as opulent. The air was oppressive here, and there was a musty smell. I could hear the merciless rain on the ceiling. There was a rumble of distant thunder. My feet stepped, one after the other, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The decorations on this floor were considerably more odd. There was a taxidermied owl under a glass dome. The paintings depicted a variety of bizarre scenes and creatures. One I did recognize as an alligator, probably Colette herself. I shivered. There was a painting of a great black hound, wreathed in fire. And there was one of a strange faced woman dancing around a fire amid frightful shadows. My heart beat faster, and the air felt heavy.

A door at the end of the hall creaked open slowly, and my heart seized with fear at what would come out. But out of it emerged a lady. She was tall and imposing. She looked to be about sixty, and though her face was wrinkled, she was exotically striking. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a bun and had a streak of white among dark brown. It looked quite long and I had the desire to see it down and swaying at her back. Her face looked like a cat that had a cowering mouse in its paws. She bore a strong nose and piercing green eyes. Her makeup was expertly applied, and instead of hiding her age, it boldly emphasized her mature beauty. Her face dared me not to find her attractive. She wore a black dress that hugged her figure. It opened at the top, not quite low enough to show her cleavage, but I could see the creamy skin of her chest. There was something improper about the dress, and her figure was clear. She was slim over most of her body, but had the pleasant plumpness in the belly and hips that most women got at her age. She was covered with jewelry, but her necklace stood out particularly. It was a gold chain, and held a number of rubies, the largest of which dangled down between her breasts.