Mindgames Ch 23

Chapter 23: Through the gates

Mariah remembers

In the end, it was easier than Mariah had ever dreamed it could be.

The idea came to her as she examined her wrist shackle for weakness. Twisting it too hard, it chafed her skin. She continued to twist it, ignoring the pain.

That evening, as Master Cassender lay on top of her, she raised her hands over her head. When he inevitably put his own hands on her arms, she cried out in pain. Surprised by such a reaction from her, Master Cassender withdrew. "What's the matter?" he demanded.

Mariah crooned in imitation of Hugo, and held up her shackled wrist. With a curse Master Cassender stumbled to his trousers where the key was in the pocket, and unlocked the bond.

After that it was merely a matter of fucking Master Cassender until he couldn't move. The second time Mariah made the smallest of overtures, touching his chest with her hand. The third time, she dropped her rag act, reaching for him and taking him in her mouth. Although he was clearly surprised by her initiative, he did not stop her, and when she finished he dropped snoring to the bed.

Mariah looked at him as he slept and could not feel the familiar hate. He had not been the worst master, and had never been purposefully cruel. "Thank you," she whispered, and walked out the door.

The half moon provided enough light. She walked straight to the wall and then turned right and followed it, traveling easily on the hard clay.

In the darkness her hearing was more acute. From the other side of the wall came the sounds of small animals scurrying on fallen leaves, and then a howl; Mariah was not sure whether it was a wolf or a coyote. She hurried forward. She had been walking about an hour, but a horse could make the distance in a quarter that time.

And then the sun was rising. If the light had not improved Mariah might have walked past the hunters' gate without seeing it. It was merely a break in the barbed wire at a strange angle. She pushed, and stepped through, and was free.

Present day

It was lucky that Mariah encountered no humans at leisure as she made her way back to Master Gabriel's apartment, because any master or mistress who noticed her defiant, angry face would have punished her into humility.

She slammed the door to the apartment so hard that one of Master Animal's pictures fell off its hook and slid down the wall. The bottom of its frame landed on the floor with a thud.

Mariah hung it back up. Animal changed the wallhangings frequently and Mariah had not seen, or maybe had just not noticed, this one before. It was a sketch of Gabriel lying on the couch, his arm thrown over his face, clearly exhausted. Mariah had seen him in this pose many times, after long days in which masters and mistresses clamored for his attention, for themselves and for their favored slaves. Even with the coterie of apprentices, they were too much for him.

"I don't care!" Mariah said, startling herself with the sound of her voice. "I hate him," she said more quietly. She looked at the picture. He seemed so alone, and, Mariah realized suddenly, so lonely.

Until recently all of Mariah's life had been occupied with survival, and beyond that only rebellion. And now, alone in a room, a Do Not Molest bracelet on her wrist, her body free of pain or immediate threat of pain, a memory came to her from long ago. She remembered being carried blindfolded on a horse to the factory, only she didn't know then where she was going. She had wondered what kind of person she was, and whether she was brave. Life had taught her since then that she was. As Master Gabriel had pointed out that morning, courage to the point of foolhardiness was one of her chief characteristics.

She looked at the picture of Gabriel again, and it suddenly seemed to her that as Master Stefan had once mocked her, her courage was only bravado. Her life was focused on running away, to nothing. But Master Gabriel had run to something; to a job to do, to a stranger's life to save. And every day, when he, a free human, could so easily say no, he said yes, to everyone, to the point of exhaustion.

Mariah forced herself to remember her morning meditation; it was Master Gabriel who had turned her over to the hunters. She visualized herself outside the gates, crossing his path . She had begged his mercy and he had pretended to give it to her, sending her to a place he had said would be safe. And then, not trusting him, she had doubled back and been found by the hunters.

She had doubled back.

Master Gabriel had meant to send the hunters away from her. They had found her only because she hadn't trusted him. Worse, she hadn't trusted her own instincts, which had told her to believe him.

Mariah's pulse pounded in her ears. She stared at the portrait on the wall. Master Gabriel was a good and kind man. It was cowardice that had made her deny it for so long.

He had hurt her that morning, both ignorantly and cruelly. But he had also made her heart soar. How could his words have such power over her?

"Because I love him," Mariah said aloud. With gentle fingers she touched the figure in the picture. "I love him."

The western mansion

Gabriel looked after Mariah, aghast, as she retreated down the corridor. He said, softly, to her retreating figure, "I know Jordyn is worthy."

He sat on the bench for a long time, lost in thought. He watched as the mansion came to life at a time of day he once thought only invalids would yet be arising.

Slaves scurried by on their errands, some looking fearfully at him and others, mostly those with Do Not Molest bracelets, barely giving him a glance. Parties of masters and mistresses and their slaves sauntered on their way to some picnic or sporting event. A slave opened a door Gabriel had not noticed and came out with a cart full of sheets and towels, which he wheeled purposefully down the corridor to the left. A gaggle of teenagers raced past, kicking at a slave three times their age who did not defend himself. When they went by Gabriel sank lower into his slouch. After a time he muttered to himself, "I don't know what it's like, Mariah, but I will."

When the hallway was momentarily empty, Gabriel ducked into the door through which the slave had brought sheets and towels. He found himself in a large closet, lined with neat shelves of bedding, towels, and dishrags on one side and cleaning supplies on the other. Gabriel took a deep breath. He removed his medicine pouch and placed it, along with his pack, behind a stack of towels on the top shelf. He took his boots and trousers off, and his tunic. The slate floor felt cold on his bare feet as he folded his clothes and put them next to his medicine pouch. He took a deep breath and pulled his underwear off. As he moved the towels back in place in front of his belongings, the door behind him opened.

"You git!" The slave Gabriel had seen earlier confronted him crossly. "This is my closet! You need anything, you ask for it through proper channels, you hear me?"

"Sorry," Gabriel said. He started to move past the slave, but was stopped by the man's strong arm across the doorway.

"I haven't seen you in my corridor before," he said. "Are you new? Who do you answer to?"

While Gabriel tried to come up with an answer, the slave looked at him suspiciously. "You aren't a runaway, are you? Because if you are, I'm getting my mistress right now." He turned as if to make good on his threat.

"No, no," Gabriel said desperately. "My master's from the central wing. He came this way this morning with some business in the western fields, and he sent me back to get him some water."

The slave glared at him. "There's no water in this closet, fool. Get on with you, or I will get my mistress, and she'll give your smooth skin some what-have-you." Gabriel ducked under the slave's arm before either of them could change their minds, and walked what he hoped seemed purposefully to the exit door. A group of masters were coming in and he stepped aside, looking down. They paid him no mind, and when they passed he went outside onto the stone steps.

The sun was bright, and Gabriel wished he had thought to put some aloe on his skin to prevent burning. He hurried down the steps and into the shade besides them to try to decide what to do. He had not thought that being naked would make him so self-conscious, especially after all these months surrounded by slaves. He resisted the urge to cover his penis with his hands.

"You there!" Gabriel looked up, startled, into the imperious face of a master who was reaching for his whip. The man was tall and fit, a little older than Gabriel. At his side was a mistress, black-haired, blue-eyed, annoyed at the interruption. "What's your business?" the master demanded of Gabriel.

Gabriel stammered, "My master...he was thirsty... he sent me to get water, but I..."

The whip slammed into Gabriel's front, around his arm and into his lower back. Before Gabriel could react, the master hissed at him, "Don't you look me in the face!" He raised his whip again. Instinctively Gabriel put up his arm to defend himself. He realized his mistake and lowered it, but it was too late.

"You dare?" The master sounded more surprised than angry. He looked over at the woman with him, who shrugged. "Standard position," he ordered Gabriel. Gabriel struggled not to hesitate to comply as he raised his hands behind his neck and spread his legs. Fear started to fill his belly like water, but before he could begin to get it under control the master had kicked him in the stomach with his booted foot. Gabriel fell to the ground, doubled over. "Get up," the master said with a deathly calm, but Gabriel didn't hear him. The master raised his whip, but before he could strike his consort stopped him.

"Landon, he is unmarked," she said to him. She stepped closer to Gabriel's writhing figure. She turned him over with his foot. "No scars, nothing...Just the one whipmark you gave him."

Gabriel fought to control himself. He opened his eyes and saw the mistress looking at him almost kindly. "What is your business?" she asked. Gabriel thought wildly about telling the truth--that he was just playing a foolish game. No, he told himself firmly as his wind started to return. I will see this through to the end.

"My master," he gasped. "He's going to the western fields. He sent me to get water. I...got lost."

Landon's whip slammed into Gabriel's buttock. Gabriel gave a short, piercing scream, fire threading through his body. "Show respect when you speak to Mistress Pomona," Landon growled. Gabriel struggled through the pain to figure out how to do that. What would Mariah do? She would spit on them and dare them to punish her some more. But if she were playing a different game...the one where she cooperates... Gabriel rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled the few feet to the Mistress. He kissed her shoes. "Forgive me, mistress," he panted.

Pomona looked him over. "He doesn't have a do not molest bracelet," she said to Landon.

Landon shrugged. "Wouldn't care if he did," he said. "I won't have a boy saucing you, love."

"Stand up," Pomona ordered Gabriel. Gabriel tried to do so, his body still racked with pain. He straightened as quickly as he could and put his hands behind his neck, remembering to look at the mistress's feet. "He is very healthy," Pomona said, looking him over. "His master must be punishing him, or playing a mindgame, sending him out without a bracelet." She stroked her fingernail across Gabriel's nipple. Gabriel fought to think of something else, but the mistress trailed her hand down slowly across his stomach and abdomen. Was she going to touch his privates? He didn't know what to do. He stood frozen.

Pomona laughed delightedly. "He's so tender," she said, "almost as if he's unbroken." She put her hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Look at me," she commanded in a low voice. Gabriel raised his watering eyes to hers. She petted his jet black hair. "Who is your master?" she asked him.

"His name is An...Master Animal," Gabriel answered. He added quickly, "Mistress."

"The painter?" Pomona and Landon exchanged surprised looks. "I never knew him to keep any slaveboys."

Landon shrugged. "But everyone knows he's a pansy," he said. "That explains why the boy is unmarked."

Pomona considered Gabriel for a minute. "Did he send you out without a bracelet to punish you?"

"I don't know, mistress," Gabriel said.

Someone laughed when he said this, and Gabriel realized for the first time that a small crowd had gathered around in a semi-circle about them. Pomona looked around in annoyance. "Finders keepers," she said. She snapped her fingers.

When Gabriel didn't move, Landon put a foot in front of him and pushed him, causing him to trip and fall onto his hands and knees. "Crawl, boy," he growled.

Gabriel obeyed. Within a few yards the pain started in the palms of his hands and his knees. It quickly spread to his wrists and his lower back. He reached into his mind for numbing techniques. A whip flashed onto his buttocks. "Faster," Landon growled.

Gabriel suppressed a groan. The crawling hurt much more than the whip. Could it only have been a few hundred feet when they turned to go into the mansion? He was shaking with the strain. Pomona noticed and laughed. "Stop," she ordered him. Gabriel thought she might take pity on him when she stepped in front of him. But she untwined a ribbon from her hair. "Open your mouth, dear," she said. Gabriel obeyed, and Pomona put the center of the ribbon in his mouth. She gathered the ends behind his head like they were reins attached to a bit. Then she sat cross-legged on his back. "Don't let me fall, there's a good horsey," she said. "Giddyup."