Mindgames Ch. 16

Chapter 16: Mariah is reminded of her place

Present day

As Mariah showed a slave boy -- man, Gabriel corrected himself, he was a man -- how to prepare a mustard wrap for his mistress, Gabriel peered out into the waiting room. Two left. A human (man, Gabriel reminded himself, just a man), standing and swaying in obvious discomfort, and a . . . a slave, sitting quietly, marked, but apparently neither seriously hurt nor ill.

The woman he had just diagnosed with bronchitis walked out, holding the arm of her slave. The man in the waiting room said harshly to Gabriel, "I've been here long enough, and drunk all that foul liquid. You will see me now?"

"Liquid?" Gabriel said blankly.

"The stuff you gave your ugly-assed rag to give me to drink," the man said impatiently, and then grabbed his middle and groaned.

Gabriel looked at Mariah, who shrugged. "Master Kirk has kidney stones," she said. "I gave him a glass of water."

Gabriel grabbed Mariah's elbow and, over the man's protest, pulled her into the treatment room and closed the door. "What made you think it was kidney stones?" he asked calmly.

"There have been two others," Mariah said. "No one else sways like that." She met his eye, defiant.

Gabriel said carefully, "Thinking you know more than you do is a dangerous thing, Mariah. There are some injuries where water can kill a man."

Mariah colored and scowled. She started to say something, but stopped. Gabriel let the silence hang, before he said, "You're almost certainly right." Mariah breathed out. "But I want you to check with me between diagnosis and treatment, okay?"

"Yes, master," Mariah muttered, her face burning.

Gabriel opened the door to the waiting room and beckoned Kirk to come in. As Mariah slid past him Gabriel called after her. "Please stay," he said. He purposefully kept his voice bland. He caught Mariah rolling her eyes at the slave in the waiting room, but she turned back to Gabriel and Kirk.

Gabriel took his time examining the man. He explained each step to Mariah and had her place her hands on Kirk's abdomen. When Kirk sputtered and complained Gabriel ignored him. Gabriel asked him seemingly endless questions about his symptoms, his diet, his previous ailments. With each answer Gabriel told Mariah what he was eliminating -- ulcer, food poisoning, appendicitis . . . . At last Kirk stood up, red-faced, while Gabriel was in the middle of a sentence. "What is this?" he demanded. "I'm in pain and you're using me as entertainment for your rag? What's the matter with you?" He gasped and grabbed his abdomen. "What's the matter with me?" he ended on a croak.

"My . . . rag . . . told you before," Gabriel said shortly. "Kidney stones."

"And what do I do about it?" he moaned.

"Drink two quarts of water a day," Gabriel said. "I'll give you a mild sedative that will lessen the pain. If you haven't passed them in a week, we'll try something else."

"Passed them?" Kirk said. "What do you mean?"

"You have sharp little rocks in you that need to come out through your penis when you pee," Mariah said in a completely bland tone.

"You speak to me?" Kirk said. He fumbled for his whip but was interrupted by a spasm of pain. Gabriel hustled Mariah to the storage room and told her what herbs he would require. When she returned with the jars Gabriel had requested, he opened, smelled and tasted each one in turn before blending them. At last he handed a packet to Kirk and said, "I've written down the instructions. Steep a tablespoon of this mixture in a cup of hot water every four hours when you're awake. Stay in front of the pain or it will get worse. Come back in a week either way, or if you develop a fever."

When Kirk left Gabriel turned to Mariah. She met his eye innocently. He shook his head. "Your bedside manner could use some improvement." His lips quirked up despite himself.

Mariah shrugged as she looked at the slaveboy in the waiting room. "One more."

The slave looked familiar. Older, heavyset, strong. Angry, fresh welts crossed his chest.

"Turbo?" Gabriel asked uncertainly.

"Yes, master," Turbo responded. He stood up. Gabriel automatically started to hold up his hands, to ward off Turbo falling to his knees in obeisance, but Turbo merely stood respectfully.

"What can I do for you?" Gabriel asked.

Turbo started to answer, as if reciting from rote, "My mistress, Diana, who as you know is the Bearer's daughter, sent me to say . . ." He broke off, and began again. "Master, these marks aren't her doing, I swear it. She's been real good to me for weeks. I got these from some people having sport, in the corridor. My mistress was so upset she practically cried." He stopped and bit his lip.

"Go on," Gabriel said.

Turbo took a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, going back to his script. "Master, everyone knows you've come hundreds of miles to treat her. And she wants to get better, she does, and she wanted to show you by treating me right, and then just when she was thinking it had been long enough I come home looking like this, and then she didn't want to try to see you, but I begged her and said you seem like a good, fair human and maybe you'd let me explain it to you." He started to fall to his knees but stopped himself. "She told me not to beg, you're an outlander who doesn't hold with that." He looked at Gabriel. "But I don't know what else to do, except beg. She's out in the hallway, waiting so patiently you'd think she's . . . someone else altogether."

"She's here?" Gabriel said in surprise. "Please, tell her to come in."

"You'll see her then, Master?" Turbo said eagerly. He didn't wait for Gabriel's "of course" before he practically ran out to the corridor. A moment later he returned carrying Diana, and placed her gently on the examination bench in Gabriel's treatment room.

Diana was paler than when Gabriel had last seen her, her white face contrasting sharply with her dark hair bound back in a braid. He regarded her. "It's nice to see you, Diana," he said.

Diana didn't respond, or meet his eye. She played with the fabric of her skirt.

Gabriel placed his hand on hers, calming her fidgeting. "What can I do for you?"

For a moment Diana did not speak. Then she grasped Gabriel's hand and held it. "I . . ." and her voice came out as a squeak. She stopped, took a breath, and started again, deeper. "I want to walk. I want to ride my horse. Can you help me?" She looked at him at last.

Gabriel smiled softly. "I think so," he said. "For walking, at least. Let's see what kind of progress you've made in these last weeks." He led Diana through the exercises they had worked on together, and with each one he smiled and nodded. Diana had clearly been making an effort, and her progress had been good. He thought she could probably stand if she had help, but he didn't want to push his luck. Instead he promised to come see her the next day.

"There's something else," Diana said. Gabriel waited politely. "It's my father. He's not well."

"Not well, how?" Gabriel asked.

"I don't know," Diana said. "He doesn't talk about it. But he's tired all the time, and sometimes when he's talking, or walking, he just stops, like he can't catch his breath. And then a few seconds later he starts again, as if he hopes no one noticed." Tears filled her eyes. "I don't think anyone does notice," she said.

"You notice, Diana," Gabriel said gravely.

Diana nodded. "Will you come?" she said. "He'll be at home now."

"Of course," Gabriel said. He turned to Mariah, and frowned, torn. "You'll stay close?" he asked her in an undertone. Mariah blinked, not understanding. "You've seen what it's like the Bearer's quarters. I could bring you to Animal at his revel room."

Diana snorted, her old, imperious self reemerging. "Nothing will happen to your rag in my household, Healer," she said. "We all know my father gave her to you. That's as good as a silver bracelet, which at least in our home we respect." She glanced at Turbo. "Even if others don't," she added.

Mariah remembers

Mariah was not surprised the next morning when Mistress Ilse told her they were going to the Exchange. But she surprised herself when she fell to her knees and pleaded. "Mistress, I'm just a rag to Master Dell. I didn't mean to . . ." She stopped. Of course she hadn't meant to . . . do anything. Master Dell had told her to spread her legs for him and she had obeyed, nothing more.

Mistress Ilse gestured her to stand up. "You think I'm jealous of you?" she asked incredulously. Mariah's face burned. She was so stupid. But Mistress Ilse drew her close. "It was Dell I was jealous of. I didn't like to share you with him."

They stared at each other, frozen, and then Mistress Ilse leaned in and kissed Mariah. Mariah felt enveloped by her, certain that it was all a misunderstanding, that her mistress would make everything right.

Mistress Ilse pulled away abruptly. "I could get lost in you," she said shakily. She turned her back to Mariah. "I think about you all the time. About how we are the same, the way we act. You scowl and I giggle to keep our distance." She turned around again, put her hands on Mariah's shoulder and leaned her forehead into Mariah's. "I think I have unnatural feelings for you."

"Then don't send me away, Mistress," Mariah whispered.

Mistress Ilse stepped back. "No!" she said, and she slapped Mariah hard on the cheek. When Mariah did not fall, she raised her hand, threatening, and Mariah slipped to her knees.

"I'm sorry," Mistress Ilse said. Mariah stayed motionless. "If you stayed, I wouldn't be able to . . . You would turn me into a pansy." Her voice cracked. "I can't live like that."

"Mistress, if you have feelings for me . . ." Mistress Ilse waited, but Mariah did not continue. What could she say? If her mistress had feelings for her, she would keep her? She would not send her to the Exchange, where she could be turned into a torture cunt, or sent back to the farm, or . . . But that was exactly what she was going to do. Mariah understood. What Mistress Ilse called unnatural feelings could be set aside, without regard for what would become of her, the dangers, the torture and degradation that awaited her sooner or later outside of Mistress Ilse's protection. The love Mariah had felt for her disappeared with a bang, replaced by cold, familiar hate.

Present day

The Bearer's quarters were quieter than the last time Master Gabriel had dragged Mariah there, but she felt little relief in that fact. She tried to force herself to be calm, to focus on her surroundings. An older mistress was laying on a sofa, one arm dangling down to the floor, her face slack, her eyes red and half-closed. A master around the same age as Mistress Diana sprawled on a carpet nearby, reading a manuscript. A few slaves were about, cleaning or sewing. Turbo set Mistress Diana down on an armchair, and at her command went to fetch the Bearer from his study. Mariah closed her eyes.

She felt Master Gabriel take her hand. He sat down and pulled her down next to him. She wanted to get away from him. She was afraid to move. She forced herself to open her eyes. Master Gabriel was giving her his concerned look. She turned her head.

She heard footsteps coming down the hall. The Bearer entered the room.

Mariah had seen him once before. She had been semi-conscious when the hunters had brought her before him. She remembered a blur of voices, Master Cassender, the hunters, others. The Bearer had spoken to her, but what he had said and what she had replied she could not recall.

And then the order to kill her on the cross. The Bearer had given that order. That she remembered.

And also that it was at his command that she was taken down from the cross, and given to Master Gabriel.

"Healer!" the Bearer boomed. His voice assaulted Mariah. "Glad to see you reunited with my daughter. I told her you would come round, if she did what you asked." He glanced at Turbo. "Huge improvement in the houseboy, too. You might just turn my daughter into a rebel." He frowned at Diana, and then snapped his fingers. A slaveboy rushed to him and kneeled before him. "Bring us refreshments," he said. "The zinfandel from five years ago, and sandwiches. And tell the kitchen rag I'll have her beaten to tomorrow if they're not edible."

Barely pausing for a breath, he turned to Master Gabriel, who let go of Mariah's hand and started to stand up. Waving him down, the Bearer seated himself in a chair that was slightly too small for his large frame. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he said, nearly as loudly as before. "Not that your company isn't always welcome here."

It was Mistress Diana who answered. "I asked him to see you, Da."

The Bearer lowered his shaggy eyebrows at her. "Diana, I'm sure Gabriel will agree to heal you without my intervention. That's why he rode from the other side of the world."

Mistress Diana sniffed. "I know that, Da. He already said he would. That's not why I wanted him to come."

The Bearer's foot twitched. "It's not a good time for a social call, Diana. Invite the Healer to come to dinner some evening, if you like." He stood up. "My apologies for my daughter," he said to Master Gabriel. He stopped for a moment, swayed slightly, and took a step away.

"No, Da!" From her armchair Mistress Diana said, "You may not go. I asked him to come to see you, when I knew you'd be here, and not busy."

"I'm always busy," the Bearer growled.

"Not too busy for this!" Mistress Diana crossed her arms and glared at him. "I told Gabriel about your dizzy spells," she said. "I want him to heal you, like he's going to heal me."

The Bearer looked at his daughter, hard, for a moment, and it seemed impossibly as though she was towering over him. He turned his gaze to Mariah. "Is this the runaway?" he asked.

"This is Mariah," Master Gabriel said.

The Bearer looked her over. She fought the urge to sink down into the cushions, and forced herself to breathe. "You've done a fine job with her," the Bearer said. "I never would have thought she'd live. Of course I'm no healer. Come here, girl," he said sharply.

Mariah didn't mean to but she couldn't help it. A sound escaped her throat. It wasn't a whimper but it was on its way to one. Master Gabriel must have heard. "No," he said. He put his arm across her middle, preventing her from rising. "She's under my protection, here as elsewhere." The room suddenly became still, as the Bearer's slaves openly stared at Master Gabriel.

"Now, now," the Bearer said mildly. "I just want to talk to her." He frowned when Master Gabriel did not move his arm. "You question my hospitality?" He sounded hurt.

Master Gabriel slowly lifted his arm from Mariah. She stood. Without being told she assumed the standard position, hands behind her head, elbows out, feet shoulder width apart, eyes down.

"Mariah!" Master Gabriel said sharply. He grabbed her elbow and tried to pull her down. Mariah resisted him.

"You may stand down," the Bearer said. Mariah lowered her arms. Her knees were knocking. "No need to get hot and bothered," the Bearer said to Master Gabriel. "I merely wish to see the miracle you've wrought. I hear you had her outside the gate and brought her in peacefully, and now you're training her for a nurse."

"How did you know . . ." Master Gabriel began. His voice became hard. "If you know that then you know I tolerate no abuse of her."

"Da!" Mistress Diana interrupted. "Stop distracting Gabriel. This isn't your throne room and I won't have your tricks!" She glared at him, then turned to Mariah. "Sit down," she ordered. "He'll toy with you no more."

Mariah stared at the floor. "Very distracting indeed," Master Gabriel said. "Now, about those dizzy spells . . ."

The Bearer frowned, but then raised his hands in surrender. Mariah allowed Master Gabriel to pull her down.

She risked another glance at the Bearer. There may have been pride in the look he was giving his daughter, but he merely said, gruffly, "I get dizzy. I stop being dizzy. I move on. There's no more to tell."

Master Gabriel looked around the room. Using the calm voice Mariah heard so often when he spoke to a patient who was scared, he said, "Would you like to talk privately?" His gesture encompassed everyone in the room, human and slave alike, even Mariah.

The Bearer stared at him, and then relaxed. "All of you, out," he boomed suddenly, and pointed one by one at the household slaves. "To the exercise yard," he said. "You're all getting fatter than me." He pointed last at Turbo, who had returned to Mistress Diana's side. "Bring the sandwiches and then take the kitchen sluts with you."

Turbo returned with a tray of food and drink, which he set at a coffee table in front of Mistress Diana. She waved him away, and he followed the other slaves out the door.

The door clicked behind Turbo. Mariah had been staring at the floor but she felt herself compelled against her will to look at the Bearer. He was glaring at her. It was as if he could read her soul. Master Gabriel did that, sometimes. But unlike Master Gabriel, the Bearer was invasive and overwhelming. He would know and he would kill her.

"I won't tell anyone, Master," she blurted, unbidden, and she realized she was answering a question the Bearer had asked inside her head. She flushed, shaken by his power.

The Bearer turned to Master Gabriel. He said mildly, "Proceed, Healer."

Master Gabriel tilted his head at Mariah. She could feel his puzzlement but refused to acknowledge him. After a pause he looked at the Bearer.

Seeming almost bored, Master Gabriel went through the list of questions Mariah had become familiar with. Symptoms, habits, history. The Bearer answered self-deprecatingly. The spells had begun some time ago but had become more frequent. He worked too hard and ate too much and slept too little. He felt dragged out all the time.

When at last Master Gabriel examined the Bearer, he did very little. Checked his pulse, listened to his breathing.

"Well?" the Bearer demanded. "Will I live to see the continued destruction of my reign?"

Master Gabriel didn't answer for a minute. He just looked at the Bearer. At last he said, "Do you want to?"

The Bearer blinked, but said without rancor, "I do, Healer. I'm nowhere near ready to go yet."

"Then you'll have to change your habits," Master Gabriel said firmly. "Starting today. You need to exercise, beginning with walking every day until you're strong enough to do more." He picked up a sandwich from the tray Turbo had brought in. Grilled cheese and ham, it dripped grease. Master Gabriel shook his head. "And no more food like this. Vegetables, fruit, grains, very little meat or dairy."

The Bearer and Diana exchanged glances. "It will be hard at first," Master Gabriel said, "if you're not used to it. But your cook can be taught how to make such food palatable. Delicious, even."

The Bearer raised his hand to silence Master Gabriel. "I don't run my kitchen, or its staff, Healer," he said. He glanced at the woman on the couch, who, perhaps feeling his gaze, looked over at them. Her eyes were droopy and bloodshot. She raised her hand in a half-wave, then dropped it down. "You've met my wife, Yana, I believe?"

Master Gabriel stared at her. Mariah recognized that the woman was stoned, as stoned as Master Townsend had been on his worst days.

"Is she often . . .?" Master Gabriel asked the Bearer.

The Bearer shrugged. "Her habit comes and goes," he said. "Sometimes months will pass with her completely clean, and then . . ." He raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "The demons get hold of her." Master Gabriel started to speak but the Bearer silenced him. "Don't judge her too harshly," he said, but it wasn't clear to Mariah who he was talking to.