Mindgames

Chapter 4: The gift

Once Pegasus had rested sufficiently from their journey, Gabriel began taking long solitary rides on the mare. He sought out the uninhabited areas where farmland had lain fallow for so long that it had given way to meadows and young forests.

One early morning he saw Stefan, the stablemaster, leading a speckled mare out of the stable, followed by Jordyn with a huge black stallion. Jordyn mounted the beast with a mighty swing of her leg. "You ride?" he asked, incredulously.

"As you see, Master," Jordyn said, straight-faced. Stefan snorted in amusement, but rather than the sarcastic statement Gabriel expected from him, he invited Gabriel to come with them. Gabriel hastily saddled Pegasus.

Neither Pegasus nor Stefan's mount could keep up with Jordyn's horse, Midnight, as they raced. Jordyn looked like freedom itself cantering through a field, her eyes alight with joy and adventure. Gabriel reined Pegasus to a walk so he could watch her. Stefan circled back. "She broke Midnight to saddle herself," he said. "No one else rides him." He gave a grim smile of satisfaction at Gabriel's surprised look.

One morning, on a whim, Animal and Rose came with Gabriel to the stables. After consultation with Stefan, Rose was mounted on gentle Mercy and Animal on the friskier Argon. To everyone's surprise, Rose rode calmly and confidently, while Animal could barely control his mare, talking to her, then cursing her, then flailing at her with his legs, but making little progress in speed or direction. Disdainfully Stefan had him switch horses with Rose. She continued to ride Argon with aplomb, firmly holding the reins and keeping her ankles down, a prim smile on her face. Animal made it back to the stables with the rest only because Mercy would docilely follow any lead.

At least he was able to dismount without assistance. He turned to watch Gabriel help Rose off of her horse. Suddenly he froze, looking past them to an older woman striding towards them.

"Hezekiah?" the woman said. "What are you doing here?"

Animal cursed under his breath before he said, "Hello, Aunt Marge."

Marge was a tall, big-boned woman, with unkempt hair gone mostly to gray. She looked Animal up and down, then smiled with satisfaction. "Didn't know you'd taken up riding," she said. "Doing your mother proud."

"My mother rode ponyboys, not horses," Animal said coldly.

Marge tsked. "A pansy like your father, or you'd know there's no real difference between the beasts," she said.

Stefan interrupted, his mouth twitching into a frown. "If you want to watch your mare deliver, you'd better go on now. Cran told me he expects it any time."

"Yes, yes, I can't tarry," Marge said to Animal. "But you must come to brunch. I've invited you often enough," she added before turning and walking swiftly towards one of the far entrances to the stable.

Animal shuddered. "That woman gives me indigestion," he said to no one in particular.

But Stefan raised an eyebrow at him. "Hezekiah?" he smirked, drawing out each syllable.

"A family name," Animal said sourly. "Never much suited me."

"I suppose Animal is your middle name?" Stefan asked solemnly.

Animal stiffened, and flushed. "It's a nickname," he said shortly. He added, indicating his barely combed hair and barely groomed beard and paint-splattered clothes. "Because I look like one."

Stefan shook his head. "If any of my horses were as unkempt as you, I'd . . ." He glowered at Rose. She blushed and looked down.

"Horses are easier to corral than humans," Animal said.

∞ ∞ ∞

Gabriel tried to be sympathetic on the walk back to the mansion, but Rose giggled when she saw him biting his cheeks to keep from laughing, and then he let out a guffaw. Animal stalked disgustedly forward, but stopped suddenly and waited for them. The Bearer and his entourage were coming in a path to intercept them.

The Bearer stepped down from his rickshaw. "Healer!" he boomed. Rose fell to the ground, banging her knee and giving a stifled, close-lipped whimper as she prostrated herself. The Bearer looked down at her for a moment and then disdainfully turned her over with the toe of his boot. Gabriel moved to intervene, pulling Rose to her feet and putting his arm around his shoulder. Animal stood passively by.

"We need to get you a better housegirl, Healer," the Bearer said. "This rag can't be properly showing you the glories of our civilization." He stepped toward them, but Gabriel quickly put himself between the Bearer and Rose.

"You frighten her," Gabriel said.

The Bearer laughed. "Of course I frighten her. That's the fun!" He put his hands up to his ears, palms forward, waggled his fingers, and made a grotesque face, moving towards her. Rose cowered back. The Bearer laughed again, and reached towards Rose's breasts.

Gabriel once more put himself between Rose and the Bearer. "You told her she was to serve me," he said. "That puts her under my protection. And I ask you to leave her alone."

A man from the group the Bearer was with stepped forward. "The Bearer has jurisdiction over all slaves," he said angrily.

The Bearer raised his hand for peace. "The Healer is a guest," he said. "I honor his request." He paused and then added, "But really, Healer, you must pick a better girl. Some of them are quite remarkable in what they can do." Seeing Gabriel's disinterest, he added, "Any slave you see, even if it's one of my own household, you can have. Just say the word."

"You're very generous," Gabriel said.

The Bearer gave him a searching look and then said, "Come. Accompany me on my rounds as I look over the disintegration of my kingdom. Today I go to the vineyards to find why our wine is becoming as sour as my disposition."

Gabriel glanced doubtfully at the rickshaw and the slaves pulling it. The Bearer saw. "No need to fret over the ponies," he said. "My buggy is waiting at the road." He gestured to five elaborately appointed wagons, each with four horses hitched to it. Gabriel looked to his friends and the Bearer added, "Bring the painter and his rag if you want."

Despite his bombast the Bearer seemed anxious for Gabriel to come, and Gabriel was curious about the winemaking process here. Riviera's methods of production of basic commodities remained a mystery to him. He was anxious to seize any opportunity to learn how Riviera ran.

Seeing that he had Gabriel's assent, the Bearer walked across the lawn. He moved slowly, stopping frequently to motion a slave from his entourage to dig up a clump of crab grass, or to glare at a gaggle of young men and women picnicking beneath a tree. When they reached the wagons, he lumbered into the top seat of the front one, next to a burly slave with a sprinkling of gray hair. The Bearer indicated that Gabriel should join him in his seat. Animal and Rose climbed into the back, and the rest of the entourage spread out over the remaining wagons.

They headed south, eventually reaching an area of Riviera that Gabriel had not yet seen. As they made their way through the farmland, worked by the ubiquitous naked slaves and their keepers, Gabriel asked the Bearer about the crops. He expected vague answers in return, but he quickly realized that the Bearer's knowledge was broad and deep.

As they crossed a bridge over a stream, the Bearer looked around and saw that Animal dozing in the back. He said quietly to Gabriel, "Tell me about my son."

Gabriel told him in detail of the arrival of Tobias at Harmony, seriously ill but fully determined. He told how by the time Gabriel had set out for Riviera the lad was still weak but certain to make a full recovery. He added how very highly everyone in Harmony thought of him.

The Bearer looked gratified at this. "Will he return, do you think?" he asked, looking straight ahead. Before Gabriel could reply the Bearer said, "Never mind. You have no crystal ball." And he sighed.

Then the Bearer questioned Gabriel at great length about life in Harmony. He was especially interested in its governance, which was shared among many. He was curious about how they lived without slaves to do the hard -- and easy -- labor, and wondered at men and women tilling their own fields. As Gabriel struggled to explain, the Bearer interrupted him. "Tell me, in Harmony, do things seem to get worse from year to year?"

"Things?"

"Things," the Bearer repeated. "Does your wine become more sour? Do your buildings fall into disrepair? Does your food grow blander every year?"

Gabriel thought of the ancient works of art Animal had showed him, the techniques lost to both cultures now. He answered slowly. "In some areas we seem to lose ground. When I was a boy we had homing pigeons that would carry messages over long distances, and they were decimated by a plague of some sort. Our vets could do nothing."

He continued, "But we also improve. We put in a new irrigation system on our eastern land that allows the farmers there to cultivate the ground more intensely and work less hard at it. And just a couple of years ago some children discovered a hot spring. We have been building a pool around it, which will . . ." He stopped, embarrassed. A bathhouse paled in comparison to the comforts of Riviera, with its running hot water and machines that made unlimited ice.

But the Bearer merely nodded. "And the people who led these innovations," he asked, "were they old or young?"

Gabriel thought. "Both, I suppose," he said. "Maybe the ideas came from the younger men and women, but the elders supported them and assigned tasks so they could be done."

The Bearer leaned back in his seat and sighed. "Our young have no ideas," he said. "No motivation. No desires, except pleasure and inflicting pain." He looked back at Animal, who was now snoring softly in the wagon. "I would have given the painter the revel room he asked for; that he gave you hospitality in exchange was merely lucky timing. Any innovation, any effort, I support it. But it becomes rarer and rarer." He looked hard at Gabriel. "You rebels took the best of us when you left."

"That was a long time ago," Gabriel protested. "It was generations gone."

"No matter," the Bearer shrugged. "The rebels were the thinkers and the doers. And when they left, it was as if Riviera was a man who had lost his right hand." He sighed. "Your ancestors left because they did not want to live among slaves. But within a matter of months after their departure the treatment of slaves here became much worse. There was no one left to temper the cruelty and to remind us that even animals are part of creation."

Gabriel was surprised. "Respectfully," he said, "If you feel that way why do you treat slaves as you do?"

The Bearer frowned. "Don't misunderstand me," he said. "I'm no pansy and I never will be." He turned to glare at Rose, who was looking down as if she were not listening. "But we are out of balance. We have lost all restraint."

He asked Gabriel how many people lived in Harmony, and raised his eyebrows when Gabriel estimated 10,000. "You've quadrupled the number your ancestors left with," he said, "and in the same time our population has fallen. We are only 50,000 odd now."

Gabriel blinked. He indicated the cultivated fields as far as eye could see. "Surely more than that," he said.

The Bearer barked, with laughter, startling the driver. "I meant humans, my boy," he said. "We have ten times as many slaves, and more every generation."

They drove into an unfarmed area. The Bearer pointed out to Gabriel streams which were home to certain kinds of fish, and marshy areas where berries abounded.

They arrived at the vineyards and the party clambered out of the five wagons. The vineyard master showed them the varieties of grapes with which he was working. Animal stayed behind with Rose to examine their potential for pigments. The rest of the party walked through the grape press, bottling areas, and the underground storage.

When they left, Gabriel was not sure if the Bearer had found the answer to why the wine was decreasing in quality. The vineyard master had insisted that they sample enough varieties that Gabriel's head was spinning and the tip of his nose was numb.

Rather than returning to the mansion by the route they had come, the Bearer instructed the drivers to make a circle. He continued his discourse on various items of interest as they passed, but Gabriel found him hard to follow.

When they made their way back into farmland the Bearer was speaking of their fallow system. Gabriel's attention was drawn to a crowd gathered a few acres ahead. As they drew closer, he realized a large number of slaves were gathered around a spectacle he could not make out. They were quite near when he saw it was a slave girl tied to two wooden poles in the form of a T. Her arms were spread over the horizontal pole, and her wrists tied to it. The vertical pole was planted in the ground. Her girl's hair was matted and her head lolled forward, at times jerking up, as if she was trying to remain conscious.

Noticing his interest, the Bearer instructed the driver to pull up. "This is how we make examples of our incorrigible slaves," he said. "This one has been brought from one cohort to another for some time now." The girl looked up again, and Gabriel thought she looked familiar, but couldn't place her. He had seen so many he couldn't help.

"HELMER," the Bearer boomed suddenly. One of the men who had been idling near the spectacle came up.

"Delarus," he said.

"Is that the runaway?" the Bearer asked. "She's so close to the end I can't tell."

Helmer nodded and glanced at Gabriel, then did a double take. He squinted. "This is the runaway," he said, "And that's the man who caught her."

Gabriel looked around to see who Helmer was indicating, and then realized the man meant him. A sick feeling flooded his body.

Helmer went on. "The girl was giving us the slip, and suddenly on the path the outlander pointed us right to her. Didn't take us but a few minutes to catch up to her."

"That's not right," Gabriel whispered hoarsely.

The Bearer guffawed and slapped Gabriel on the back. "Well done!" he said. "There's more to you than you let on."

The girl's head jerked up, and she looked straight at Gabriel. Her eyes were deep green. Her head jolted forward.

"It's death by suffocation," the Bearer explained conversationally. "The rib cage collapses. Quite exquisite, really, and rare to take the time."

Bile rose up in Gabriel's throat. "You said I could have any slave I wanted," he said. "I want that one."

The Bearer looked alarmed. "Oh, no, lad, no you don't. Let me give you a good slave, well-trained. This one will be dead by morning."

"She's the one I want," Gabriel said firmly. He added, "I'm certain you wouldn't go back on your word to me."

The Bearer gave Gabriel a sharp look, then smiled and shrugged. "You want her, she's yours." He stood up in the carriage and gave his orders. "Take her down slowly, and load her in the wagon."