Lucky (Pt. 02)

The next day Lucas sat on the front steps of the surgery, enjoying the feeling of the hazy sunshine on his face and the salty breeze drifting up from the harbour after so many days spent indoors, and contemplating the spot on the cobbles where he'd been left for dead. He could still make out some faint blood stains down there. It was only a few days ago, and yet it felt like so much longer. He'd been drifting in and out of consciousness so often it made it difficult to keep track of time.

Thanks to Doctor Monroe he was well on his way to being fully fit again now. As Tilly predicted he'd slept really soundly last night and this morning for the first time he'd felt well enough to get dressed and make his way down the staircase, one careful step at a time, leaning wonkily on his left side, his hand clutching at the banister.

It felt good to be outside and he took deep breaths of the warm, humid air. He reached down and rubbed his ankle, watching as people went about their daily business. His ankle felt a lot better today, nearly back to normal now, and he realised with some sadness that it was nearly time to go.

A man approached, a sailor perhaps in his fifties. He was a tall, impressive looking fellow with a neatly-trimmed beard that was more salt than pepper, and a blue-and-white cap pitched at a jaunty angle. He was dressed in a smart, tailored dark blue uniform with shiny brass buttons, and a gold anchor at the top of his right sleeve.

"Ahoy there young fellow, a fine day, is it not?" he boomed, his broad smile revealing a prominent gold tooth. "Ever considered joining the Queen's Navy, and seeing the empire?"

"Oh, uh, no thank-you Sir," Lucas replied politely as the man drew closer.

"Come now, you don't fancy visiting the Dragon Islands, seeing the wonders of New Kingsland, swimming in the crystal clear waters of Mutiny Bay? Make a man of you son," the sailor urged.

"No, really, I'm..."

"Perhaps meet some of the dusky-skinned girls of the Coconut Isles?" he suggested, with a wink. "Why not join up now, eh? On your own terms? Take control of your destiny before you're forced to?"

Lucas paused. Perhaps this was fate; he knew he couldn't stay here forever and had been wondering what to do next so perhaps it would be a good idea to join up. Sure, people said that things weren't going too well for the navy right now and there was always the chance he wouldn't come back but on the other hand, what did he have to lose? The navy would look after him and it would give him a purpose. It would surely be easier than the hand-to-mouth existence on the streets he'd been living since he left the orphanage.

"Well..."

"This young man is with me," a voice behind him said, cutting him off and when he turned he was relieved to see Doctor Monroe stepping forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. "He's training to be a medic, and I'm sure you know that's a reserved occupation."

"I see, I see," the man said, eyeing the doctor disappointedly. "Well if sawing bones doesn't work out young man, you can always find me down at the shipyard."

The doctor sat down next to him on the step and they were silent as they watched the old sailor drift away in the direction of a group of young men drinking noisily outside a tavern.

"That's old Jake," she said. "He supplements his navy pension by recruiting young men."

"Seems like they're really quite keen to recruit," Lucas said finally.

"Trust me Lucas, now isn't the time to join up. I hear that things aren't going well and that's why there's a constant need for young blood."

"Tilly told me about Tom," he said. "You must worry about him."

"I do," the doctor said, forcing a brave smile.

"What did he mean by 'before you're forced to'?" he asked.

"You haven't heard? The rumour is that the Queen is considering extending conscription, making more men report for naval duty, younger men."

"Well, maybe I should join up. You've been very kind, but my ankle's nearly better and it's time for me to move on."

"You really want to go back to living on the street?"

"I'm not sure there's any choice. it's not so bad, I guess I'm used to it now."

"Well, I may have an alternative. Have you heard of Madam Pomfrey?"

"I think Tilly or Marta might have mentioned her..."

"She's a friend, she runs a sort of women's business club and escort agency. I happen to know she's looking for young, healthy men."

"An escort agency?"

"Lucas, it's no secret that the empire is spending a lot of time dealing with various conflicts and uprisings right now, and that a lot of men have been called up to the army and navy over the last few years, a lot of young men," she said, leaning in a little closer and lowering her voice.

Lucas nodded silently; everyone knew that the Queen had ears everywhere and people were always cautious if they could be interpreted as being critical about her leadership.

"And so there's a distinct lack of healthy, able-bodied men between the ages of twenty and forty right now."

This, too, was no secret. Lucas had lived in the city all his life and you just couldn't help but notice. Everyone knew someone that had been approached and invited to serve their queen, often in the furthest reaches of the empire. Unless they had a good excuse or were in one of the reserved occupations (like mining, shipbuilding, medicine or the royal guards) saying "no" to such an offer could land them in the Wolf's Den on treason charges.

When the Queen had ascended to the throne after the death of her father five years ago, she'd embarked on a tour, seeing the empire's regions and visiting the ruling families staying in their ancestral homes. He'd been in the huge crowd watching her speak from the balcony when she'd visited White Harbour castle and he could still remember her stirring speech about expanding the empire, and civilising the far reaches of their world. About the brave forces bringing light to the savage tribes of the east.

It had been different when she'd visited last year. Following the news of several defeats and poor morale her speech had focused more on how it was everyone's duty to keep working hard to support their brave troops, and helping to build a better empire for them to come home to. He'd heard people say how her speeches used to be about how brave and resolute the empire's forces were in helping to save the empire from savages. But Lucas had heard dark mutterings in the taverns about how the queen had over-reached and now they were caught fighting a war on too many fronts.

Everyone knew that because there was no sign of the conflicts abroad ending, men would continue to be called up to fight and so wives had been encouraged to step out of the shadows and take on the businesses of their absent husbands, young women encouraged to learn traditionally male skills like carpentry or blacksmithing, daughters encouraged to become entrepreneurs and start their own small companies. As a result, women now ran most of the businesses in the city and had done it well but most of them, despite their new found wealth, still struggled to find a suitable bachelor.

He'd heard people claim that the city was over three-quarters female now, and that the remaining men tended to be either too young or too old to serve, which meant that there were a lot of single women but a lack of eligible men right now. Perhaps that was why someone like Madam Pomfrey would be recruiting as keenly as the navy.

"Do you think she'd take me?" he asked.

"I do. And there's something else; anyone working for the Madam's are considered off-limits for the Navy. They won't be called up whatever age they are."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, the Madam's got friends in high places," the Doctor said, briefly glancing up towards the castle walls rising at the end of the street. "Anyway, she's a friend of mine, and I'm going to see her tomorrow. You should come along, at least see what she's got to offer before you return to the street."

---

His first instinct had been to head back to the docks, to look for Eamon, to return to the life he knew. But he was able to have a proper chance to think about the Doctor's proposal overnight. It had never occurred to him that he could perform that kind of role, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised that Doctor Monroe was right, he really had nothing to lose by trying it. Even if the work didn't suit him, at least the Madam's house would provide three meals a day and somewhere dry and warm to sleep at night until he was fully fit again.

The Madam's house was only a short walk from the surgery, but Lucas couldn't help noticing how the streets were even cleaner here, with smooth pale sandstone slabs rather than cobbles underfoot and trees running down the centre of the broad streets. The houses were very different too: Fishpit was a maze of narrow streets bordered by mainly wooden houses, but up here the buildings were tall and grand, constructed of a pale sandstone that gave the city its name. He and Eamon would never come begging or thieving here, the gold cloaks would chase them off within five minutes.

The house itself was large and squat with neat rows of windows and sat on one side of a large square, with a marble mermaid statue at its centre, water gushing from the mouth of a large fish beside her. Inside the large doors,a young man, wearing an emerald green waistcoat sat behind a well-polished reception desk. When Doctor Monroe explained who she was he led them both up a wide staircase to a spacious office on the first floor.

Madam Pomfrey looked up from behind a mahogany desk, and smiled warmly when she saw the doctor. She was perhaps in her fifties, with a thin, almost gaunt face, her grey hair drawn back in a tight bun. She was wearing a slightly old-fashioned looking dark grey dress with lace edging. A younger woman, slim and blonde, was wearing a simple pastel sundress and sat on the other side of the desk, her hand clutching a quill, taking notes as the Madam spoke. Lucas assumed she was an assistant.

He took a moment to look around. Clearly, this was an office built to impress and give a sense of the Madam's power and influence. It was dominated by a large, formal oil painting of her on the right and a tightly-packed bookshelf full of leather-bound volumes to the left. Behind her, there were several framed letters on the wall, all proudly displaying the red and gold royal seal.

"Anne," the Madam said warmly, extending a hand towards the doctor. "How good to see you, you haven't visited for a while, it's been much too long."

"Well duty calls Helen but it's lovely to see you," Doctor Monroe said, briefly squeezing her hand."How's the ankle?"

"Much better, thanks."

"And hello Rachel," the doctor continued, nodding towards the blonde assistant. "Always a pleasure to see you too."

"And this is the young man you rescued?" the Madam said, nodding towards Lucas. "You really are a saint, you put us all to shame."

"Yes, this is Lucas. We found him on our doorstep, he was badly beaten."

"I see. Well, you were very fortunate, young man, she's the best doctor in the city."

Doctor Monroe shook her head modestly, but remained silent.

"Yes, she's been very kind," he replied politely, as the Madam leaned back against the edge of her desk and slowly looked him up and down, assessing him with her piercing green eyes.

"How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen, Madam, or maybe twenty. I grew up in an orphanage and never knew me parents."

Off to one side, Rachel started taking notes as they spoke, her quill scratching noisily on her pad.

"I see, and you're healthy? You've got all your own teeth?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hmm, well you seem polite," she said thoughtfully, stepping closer and clutching his shoulders as she looked him up and down. "And they educated you at the orphanage? You can read and write?"

"Yes, ma'am, although I've not 'ad to do much reading and writing of late."

"Hmm, well Rachel here makes an effort to educate our boys. Education's so important. If we take you on, she'll help you with your basic literacy and maths, although you may need extra lessons to catch up with the other boys."

Lucas nodded.

"So Lucas, I imagine you've probably had a tough upbringing, perhaps you resent authority figures? How do you feel about taking orders? Are you the rebellious type? A bit of a tearaway?"

He'd never really thought about it, but he'd never really been in trouble. He only resorted to stealing when hungry and desperate, and so he gave the answer he thought she'd want to hear.

"I'm not much of a rebel ma'am. I'd certainly be obliged to give you your due respect if you were kind enough to take me on."

"Been in trouble with the gold cloaks?"

"Not really," he said, although the truth was that they'd been chased plenty of times just never caught

"Member of a gang?"

"No, Madam."

"Well, let's see. I think we need a proper look at you. Take your shirt off," she ordered, stepping back and leaning against the edge of her desk.

Lucas looked over at Doctor Monroe, who gave him the slightest of nods. He wasn't too shy, having shared a dorm with a dozen boys at the orphanage, but undressing in front of these grown women felt a little intimidating.

"Come along, Lucas," the Madam said, her mouth set in a tight smile. "This house is no place for shyness."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, his fingers trembling a little as he self-consciously unfastened the buttons one-by-one. With the women looking on it seemed to take forever, but finally he slipped it off his shoulders and handed it to the Doctor.

"Hmm," Madam Pomfrey said, slowly circling him, her fingers sliding along his lean shoulders and down to where his skin hugged his ribs, her eyes critically examining his bare torso. "He's a little scrawny, like a stray dog."

"Yes, but a few weeks of Cookie's meals will put some meat on his bones," Rachel said encouragingly. "His frame and posture are good."

"Any tattoos, scars? Any illnesses we should know about? The pox? The black rash?"

"No, ma'am."

"Hmm," the Madam said thoughtfully, back in front of him now.

She was a little taller than him in her black, heeled ankle boots and slid a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet her darkly piercing eyes as she examined his face, perhaps noting his full,almost feminine lips, striking dark blue eyes and prominent cheekbones.

"Yes, his posture is good and I suppose he's not unattractive," she conceded after a few seconds.

Lucas held his breath, and tried not to wriggle as she ran her fingers down over the lean muscle of his chest. He caught his breath, wincing as her fingers circled the collection of dark bruises along his ribs.

"And these will heal in a few days?"she said, turning to the doctor. "No lasting effects?"

"No, he'll be good as new, but I can come back and check on him if they're not," Doctor Monroe confirmed.

"What do you think, Rachel?"

"I don't see any reason we shouldn't give him a chance. We've taken on worse boys who've turned out fine after a little encouragement."

The Madam exchanged a look with Rachel, then nodded.

"Well then, you can put your shirt back on, young Lucas," she concluded. "I think we can offer you a place here, and we can see if you're suitable for us. Rachel, have one of the boys show Lucas around."

---

"Well, let's start with the ground floor, that's the public side of Madam Pomfrey's," the boy said, as he led Lucas down the wide, sweeping staircase with its ornate bannisters. "I'm Tully, by the way."

Tully was the young man that they'd met at reception, smart and compact and neat in his green waistcoat and polished black shoes. He had the same slight build as Lucas, but looked more healthy and athletic, his straw-blonde hair cropped tight to his skull, his manner bright and cheery.

"Now, this 'ere's reception," he said, sliding his hand along the wooden desk directly in front of the open entrance doors. "One of us always 'as to be 'ere when we're open, which is from two o'clock. We're a members only club for business women, so you have to check their card, or if they've forgotten it, check their name's on the membership list."

"And to the right, we have the bar," he said, leading Lucas through an open door to a large room where light flooded in from windows looking out onto the square. Brass and dark green leather bar stools were neatly arranged in front of the long bar, which was well-stocked with wines and spirits but no ale. A huge stone fireplace dominated the far side of the room. "This might be your first job, it opens at five and like reception there always has to be at least one of us here, two later in the evening when it's busy."

"And behind reception is our main attraction, the indoor pool," he continued, leading Lucas back through reception and through double doors. Lucas had never seen such a thing before and he could only stare at the still water reflecting the light from windows set high up, a thin layer of steam floating on its surface. The walls and the pool itself were clad in tiles of varying shades of green, from palest mint to dark olive.

"Impressive, eh?" Tully said, examining Lucas's expression.

"It's heated too, there's a boiler through 'ere," he said, leading Lucas down a flight of stairs past a sign that said "Staff only".

They emerged in a room dominated by a large brass boiler, which squatted in one corner making an angry hissing sound. Lucas could see flames dancing through a small, smoky window at the front.

"The boiler is kept going all day so another important job here is bringing in wood or coke to keep it going," Tully continued gesturing towards a large pile of chopped logs. "And then back there is the wine cellar."

Lucas's head spun, as he followed Tully back up the stairs. He'd heard that the castle and the wealthier houses had heating and indoor plumbing but he'd never seen it for himself.

"And back up 'ere," Tully said, as they walked around the pool and through a door at the far end into an area with doors leading off on both sides. "These are the changing rooms, the communal showers and the massage rooms, to help our members relax."

He pushed open one of the wooden doors, and Lucas peered inside. It was a little dark, but he could make out a leather covered table in the centre. It was sparsely furnished, the available shelves and table surfaces decorated with candles, oils and towels.

"These are popular, so ladies need to book at busy times," he added.

"So who does the massaging?" Lucas asked.

"Oh, we do. I mean it's not like we're massage experts or anything, it's really just making sure the members are happy and relaxed. And some of them get very relaxed, if you know what I mean," he said with a wink, and Lucas smiled and nodded although he wasn't sure that he meant.

"So what else do we do for them?" Lucas continued, remembering how the doctor described the house as an escort agency.

"Well, in short, we do anything they want. These are powerful, well-off women who pay a lot to be members," Tully replied. "And I'll tell you something: they can be really good tippers if you keep 'em happy."

"Oh, I see."

"So 'ow do you come to be 'ere then?" Tully asked.

Lucas re-told his story as Tully led him back back to reception then up the stairs once more, but discreetly leaving out last night's erotic incident in the bath.

"Well, you've landed on your feet," Tully said, with a grin. "We have to work 'ard, like, but we're well looked after. I lived on the streets once meself, but I much prefer it 'ere."

"So this is semi-public, if you like. You've seen Madam's office at the end, and that door next to it is Rachel's office, she's like Madam's deputy. Nice enough as long as you mind your manners, and she gives us lessons in maths and english and suchlike," Tully continued.