by E J Pay
“Free us, Namaah,” I sign back. “Surely we can both be freed.”
Namaah nods as a tear rolls down her cheek. “Yes. Us.”
I let Namaah feed me broth and bread. I have taken so little food in the past several days. This meal feels at first like it will make me sick. But as we are slow and careful, I begin to feel better. There is nothing we can say while she feeds me. Her hands are occupied. We will wait.
When the meal is finished, Namaah carefully cleans my face. I drink cool water to rinse my mouth. I am tired from the warm food. Namaah promises to stay with me. She holds my hand and sways to a tune that only she can hear and she can never sing. I close my eyes and imagine my own tune and drift off again.
When I wake up, Namaah is still sitting on the edge of my bed. But her head is drooping and her eyes are closed. Her breathing is slow and even. Her head has only a few gray hairs entangled in the masses of curly black. Her skin has aged. She has lines of worry around her eyes and across her forehead. Her hands are scarred from years of abuse and work. The scar across her cheek has darkened with time. I feel guilt when I think of her past. I have never asked her about it and she has never offered. But what kind of friend knows so little about someone who gives so much for them.
I reach out and squeeze Namaah’s hand. Her eyes open and she raises her head. She gives me a small smile which I return.
“And how do you feel after your rest?” she signs.
“I feel better, Namaah,” I return. “And you? How do you feel after your rest, my friend?” She smiles when I call her friend and pats my arm gently.
“I am always grateful for extra rest,” she tells me. Her smile fades and her eyes grow serious. “Are you ready for a conversation?” she signs to me.
“Is there something you have to tell me?” I sign in return.
“I have had my ears open for news of you, but I have learned many other things that you need to know,” she tells me. I sit up in my bed and Namaah adjusts so we can sit face-to-face.
“I am ready to know it, Namaah,” I sign. She sighs and nods her approval.
“I have heard some of what Master Abraxas has been doing on his travels and it is frightening,” she signs.
“What is it?” I ask. “I thought it was a political tour he was making.” Namaah shakes her head.
“His travels will help him in his search for power, but he met with no politicians or leaders,” she tells me. “He was searching for magic power. He is impatient and seeks to rise to the top as quickly as he can.”
That Abraxas is impatient isn’t surprising to me. It is the hallmark of a true politician, but something in Namaah’s manner of signing worries me. Abraxas already has me to control. I can use my power to mentally torture and embarrass his enemies. That sounds frightening enough to me. What more could he be in search of and has he found it?
“He took Gileaus on a journey through the Sea of Crete and beyond to the coasts of Jaffa.”
“Jaffa? Gileaus spent time in Jaffa?” I ask. Namaah nods. She does not know my history as Pearl except for what she has overheard within the walls of the fortress. She does not know that my Dom and I were cursed by a witch off the coast of Jaffa.
“What was he doing there?” I ask.
“There are rumors,” Namaah signs. She leans in closer like she is going to whisper a secret, but she whispers it with her hands. “There are rumors of a powerful queen in those coasts. She has power to control humans and make them bend to her will.” Namaah pauses. “She is rumored to be even more powerful than you, Athena.”
I know how powerful the queen is. She is the reason I have powers in the first place. But I keep this to myself.
“Is it possible that Gileaus is under some sort of spell?” I ask. Namaah nods.
“I think it is,” she responds. “Abraxas wears a large jade stone. Green is a color forbidden in Jaffa. The stone may be a symbol of the work he does with the queen.”
I have seen the stone Abraxas wears. It is always around his neck and stands boldly against his purple robes. It must have some kind of power imbued within it. Nothing as strong as Queen Nyobi Kadul or even me, but power nonetheless.
“It is possible that Master Abraxas was using the power from the stone even before he took Gileaus to Jaffa,” Namaah signs. “It is possible.”
It is possible. Possible that my fiancé was and is under the influence of mind control. Possible that the real Gileaus, my Gileaus, is hiding underneath layers of control and magic. I nod in response to Namaah and there is a knock at the door. Namaah moves to open it and a guard steps inside.
“If the prisoner is ready,” he says, “she is to accompany me.”
“I am ready. As you see,” I respond. “Where are we going?”
“I have orders to take you to interrogation.”
“To interrogate me for what?” I ask. “I have been open with Gileaus and Abraxas. They know how the guard died. What is there to interrogate me about?”
“My orders are to take you there,” the guard snips, “not to answer questions about why you are going. You can ask Master Abraxas that yourself when you get there.”
So I am going to interrogation with Abraxas. I don’t know what knowledge he hopes to gain from me. I’ll find out soon enough. I stand and follow the guard. I squeeze Namaah’s hand as I pass by her. The touch does not go unnoticed by the guard. “You. Clean up this room and return to your quarters,” he tells Namaah. “You go first,” he directs me.
I head out the door and am surrounded by four more guards. Their weapons are at the ready. Abraxas is taking no chances that I will try anything on his guards. That is just as well. I’ll save my power for him. I walk down the hall, through the underground levels and upstairs until we reach the interrogation rooms.
Interrogation rooms aren’t really the right words for them. Torture rooms would be more accurate. It is in these rooms where Demetrius works. These are the rooms where the screams are heard. I am led into the room I passed weeks ago when the old man’s wife was taken to her grave. The feeling of death lingers in the air. I feel her presence, cold and accusing, as I pass the threshold. She has a connection to this place where such injustice was done to her. She is determined to remain here, making life uncomfortable for her murderers.
“Ah, Pearl,” Abraxas rises from a decorative table and chair that have been placed in the room. “It has been so long since I have seen you.” He walks through my circle of guards, takes me by the shoulders, and kisses my cheek. I stiffen at his touch and turn my face away. “Oh, now Pearl,” he whimpers. “Surely you and I can be friends. After all, I have been so good to you and to Gileaus.” With a sweeping motion, Abraxas holds an open hand toward the table. Gileaus is sitting there. I didn’t see him when I first entered. My guards were in the way.
The guards make a pathway for Abraxas to lead me to the table, his hand in the small of my back. When I get to the chair he has set aside for me, I sit with my face toward Gileaus, searching for signs that he is under some kind of spell, hoping to find something that tells me he is still inside. Wanting him to love me. Gileaus reaches his hand across the table and takes hold of my hand. “I have missed you so much,” he says. His words are stilted and his tone is flat, like there is forced feeling behind what he says. I don’t know if he is lost to me and is trying to save face in front of Abraxas or if he is honestly under his power.
“Haven’t you missed your young master?” Abraxas asks with a tone of mocking sincerity. “He has been away for so long and you have been so…uncomfortable. Surely his being here brings you some joy.”
“Gileaus came to see me when he first arrived,” I answer. “We had time to greet one another then.”
“I see,” Abraxas says. He eyes the two of us, looking back and forth with eyes that move like a pendulum. “Well, since we are all together again, let us celebrate with a meal.”
“I ate with Namaah before I came here,” I say. Gileaus sends me a reproving look.
&nb
sp; “Did you?” Abraxas asks, “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I hope it was enough to whet your palette then. I’ve brought some very fine foods back with me. I’d like you to try them.”
If he is demanding that I eat, I can only imagine that the food is poisoned. I don’t think he would kill me, but there could be something else going on. He may want to drug me in order to subdue me. I’ll eat as little as I can, hiding it away, if possible. I want as much of my wits about me as I can get.
We eat breads, Abraxas drinks wine. I drink cool water and eat grapes. There are jars of food I’ve never seen before, most of them pickled sea creatures. Their texture is difficult for me to chew. I’ve never liked rubbery foods. But their flavor is not unpleasant. I eat small amounts of them, always with bread and water, and wait for the effects of drugs to kick in. We spend an hour eating and listening to Abraxas talk about the exotic sights, sounds, and foods of his journey. Gileaus says very little, only enough to confirm and add praise to Abraxas’ descriptions. I cannot tell what he is thinking or feeling. I still refuse to send my mind into his. I want our love to just be the two of us, no power in between.
“Well, I have a visitor I’d like to introduce you to, Pearl,” Abraxas says as he wipes the corners of his mouth clean. “Guard, bring in Master Hortencio.” A guard bows and leaves the room.
“I’m rather excited for you to meet this fellow,” Abraxas tells me. “I am highly interested to see what you can do with him. You see, Pearl, Hortencio has been a family friend for years. His father and my grandfather were officials together in the government, but I’ve had the most difficult time getting his support for some of my reforms.” Abraxas takes another sip of wine. “I do hope you’ll be able to convince him to join me. There is a great deal in it for you, if you succeed.” Abraxas looks to Gileaus then back to me. “I think we could arrange a wedding for the two of you.” Gileaus and I both snap our attention toward Abraxas. He smiles at our reaction. “What is it? Don’t tell me the fires of love have cooled between you during our absence. It is a weak heart indeed that cannot handle the strain of separation.” Another sip of wine. “Besides Pearl, you’ll have to get used to Gileaus’ being away once you are married. He is going to be a major contributor to my new government. He will rise to the top right alongside me.”
“New government?” I manage to ask. “What do you mean by that?”
Abraxas smiles and opens his mouth to speak when we hear a commotion outside the door.
“Ah, my good friend Hortencio must be here,” he says. Several new guards enter the room, restraining their prisoner between them. It is the old man. The old man I saved from a beating. The old man I killed a guard for and ended up living in a dungeon for. This is Hortencio.
Chapter 35
Hortencio is seated in a chair, but not at the table. He looks even older than he did when he was brought here. His gray hair has thinned, his face is gaunt, his eyes are sunken in a starved and haunting look. His body is too small for the robes he wears, the same robes he wore when he came here. Bruises and cuts cover his arms and feet. He wears no shoes. He is a man at death’s door. I don’t know how he can still be alive. What has happened to his daughters?
“Hortencio, my friend,” Abraxas says as he stands and walks to the man he has known his entire life, “it has been far too long since we have met together. I’m very sorry it has to be under such difficult circumstances.” Hortencio winces as Abraxas lays a heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Where are my daughters?” the old man asks, his voice cracking with the strain of dehydration.
“Why, Hortencio, my friend,” Abraxas laughs, “I thought you were close enough to them to hear them calling to you.” The old man lets out a painful groan. It’s my turn to wince now. Abraxas is torturing his friend. Why?! Just get to the point!!!!!
“Abraxas,” I interrupt, wanting nothing more than to free this man from his suffering. Abraxas turns his face toward me.
“Ah, yes,” he says. “Hortencio, old boy, I want to introduce someone to you. This is Pearl. You may remember her grandfather Vasilios from Argos.” Hortencio lifts his eyes to meet mine. They are almost empty of life, but a fire remains ignited within them.
“Pearl,” he croaks. “You have changed.”
“Of course she has changed,” Abraxas laughs. “She was just a girl in Argos and now she is here, all grown up! A lovely young woman engaged to my apprentice, Young Master Gileaus.” Abraxas points to Gileaus and Hortencio turns his head.
“I know your father,” he says. Gileaus shifts in his seat.
“I believe you knew his father,” Abraxas says coolly, “I’m afraid Master Spiro has been dead for some time now.” Hortencio’s face goes even more ashen than it was when he came into the room.
“I’m sorry to hear it young man,” he addresses Gileaus. “But you do your father’s memory no credit by allying yourself and your future bride with this man.” Gileaus barely registers anything Hortencio is saying. Even if he is under a spell, how can he not fight to break through it?! I am sick to my stomach. Abraxas is not amused. He moves to stand directly in front of Hortencio, blocking his view of anyone else in the room. He mumbles something I cannot hear to the old man. When he returns to his seat, Hortencio’s head is lowered and a tear falls from his cheek.
Taking a final draw from his cup of wine, Abraxas is ready to get to business.
“Hortencio, as you know, I am planning a…restructuring of our government. As you also know, I have invited you to be a part of that restructuring.”
“Even if I agreed, what you seek is not possible,” Hortencio says. “You need armies and support that you do not have.”
“Bah!” Abraxas shouts. “You know full well that with your support and my plans, I can make it happen. You have control of all the armies I need! I just need you to fulfill a few simple tasks and it will work!”
Hortencio shakes his head. “I’ll not support your plans, Abraxas. No matter what you do to me, I will not support them.”
Abraxas chuckles to himself. “Oh, Hortencio,” he says, “do you think I would leave this all to chance? I had you captured and brought here because I have the means to make you change your mind.” A heavy silence fills the air between us all as we wait for an explanation. Gileaus shifts in his chair. I had almost forgotten he was in the room.
Hortencio looks at Abraxas directly, raising in his seat and squaring his shoulders. “As long as I live, my mind will not be swayed, Abraxas. You seek murder and power and the overthrow of our government, our way of life. I will do all in my power to preserve it.”
“Oh, I believe you,” Abraxas says. “I am convinced that your mind will not be swayed. But the mind is a fragile thing, Hortencio.” Abraxas turns his attentions to me. “Perhaps I was not thorough in my introductions a moment ago. This is Pearl, Hortencio. She is more than an acquaintance of our past. She is capable of things you’ve only heard of. Certainly you heard the rumors that encircled her family years ago?”
Hortencio shifts in his chair and looks at me. I wish he would look away. I don’t want this true and honest man to look at me like I am an evil creation. I don’t want him to become my next victim. But I don’t see that in his eyes. What I see there is pity. He knows. He knows I am here against my will. He knows I am being forced to live and serve this monster.
“Our Pearl here can do wonderful things with the human mind,” Abraxas continues, oblivious to the silent understanding between Hortencio and me. “Pearl,” he says to me, “do give our guest a little taste of what you can do. And please remember our discussion earlier. You wouldn’t want anything to come between you and your fiancé.”
I look at Gileaus. I look at the jade medallion around Abraxas’ neck. I look into the eyes of Hortencio. I am trapped in this room. I am trapped in this life. If I do what Abraxas wants, a government and an entire people’s lives are at stake. If I deny him, I will not be given another chance. What will happen to me? What will happen to Gileaus? Will Abr
axas continue to keep him as his puppet, forcing me to watch from my prison window?
I move my mind toward Hortencio. His face echoes courage. He is not afraid of anything I can do. I send soft, white tendrils of inquiry into his mind. I want to see what he has there waiting for me. As my mind reaches his, I am pushed backward into my chair. Hortencio hides nothing from me. He welcomes me into his mind. The intimacy with which he accepts me is overwhelming. I have not experienced this before.
I remain focused and see what this aged man has for me to see. I see his memories, the years of battle for his country. I see his motivation, his children and wife, the country he loves and the values he holds dear. I see his fears, too. I see the oppression he knows will envelop the people if Abraxas forces himself on them as their leader. I see torment among the people he loves. I see depravity of every kind. No one is free from the tyranny of a monster once he has control over them. I feel everything Hortencio feels. I cannot force him to change his mind. I cannot manipulate him. He is true. He is right. He is good. I will not change anything in this man.
“Well,” Abraxas says with some irritation, “what are you showing to him?”
“I am showing him nothing,” I respond. “This man sees clearly.” Abraxas stands from the table.
“What do you mean, Pearl?” he asks. “You have a job here, a responsibility to me. You have the opportunity to save yourself. Convince this man to follow me, Pearl.”
I sit still for only a moment. Then I slowly shake my head. “I’ll not do it,” I say. “I will not manipulate this man. You cannot win without him.” I look Abraxas in the eyes. “This is how I defeat you.”
A whir in the air and a sharp sting to my cheek. Abraxas wears a ring that cuts my cheek with his slap. My ears ring and my vision blurs. Hot tears rise to my eyes. Abraxas moves to me, grabbing my arm roughly in his large hands, the hands that killed Dom.