[Measure of Devotion 02.0] Measure of Strength

by Caethes Faron

  “Who are you? Get out. Leave me alone. Don’t hurt me.” It took a moment for Martin’s eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. The drapes were drawn, and the only light came from an oil lamp turned low. Jason crouched in the corner of the room, waving a fire poker. It had been asking too much to hope Jason would sleep for any appreciable length of time.

  Martin spread his hands out to his sides, palms up, and advanced slowly toward Jason. “It’s me, Mr. Wadsworth, Martin Grimlock. I’m not going to hurt you. I had to go down to the kitchen, but I’m back now.”

  “I know you?” The confusion in Jason’s voice was heartbreaking. These delusions were the most difficult part. To see Jason so confused was disconcerting compared to his usual surety.

  “Yes, I’m your secretary. You’re sick. This is all going to pass.” Martin was now mere inches from the poker. He lowered himself to his knees and tried to capture Jason’s gaze with his own.

  “Martin?” There it was. Jason’s voice cracked, and his grip loosened, sending the poker clattering to the floor.

  “Yes, it’s me.” Martin gathered Jason in his arms and held him as a mix of sobs and tremors ran through his body. Martin brushed Jason’s matted hair back from his forehead. His hand came away covered in sweat. Jason’s skin was clammy, and his eyes darted frantically round the room, wide and frightened.

  “Here, let’s get you back into bed. Try to sleep.”

  “All right, if you think that’s best.”

  “I do.”

  Martin helped Jason up and untangled the sheets enough to get him ensconced between them. The room smelled of stale sweat, and Martin yearned to change the sheets, but he didn’t want to leave Jason alone long enough to do it, and Jason wouldn’t allow Sophie inside.

  Once Jason was situated in bed, Martin saw comprehension come back into his eyes. “Thank you, Martin. I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s no problem. I understand.”

  “How? How’d you know it would be like this?”

  “My father. He was a drunk. He sobered up when my mom went to live with her parents.” The words came with surprising ease. His family wasn’t something Martin was fond of speaking about. His father’s problems had always been a source of shame.

  “Did he succeed?”

  “No, he went back to the bottle when she told him she didn’t love him.” Martin wasn’t going to soften the realities for Jason. “For what it’s worth, though, I think you’ll beat it.”

  “Really?” Jason seemed almost scared to hope.

  “Yes. You have a lot of people who support you.” Martin chose his next words carefully. He had made a promise to Kale, and he would fulfill it. “In fact, I saw Kale this morning in the kitchen. He’s worried about you. He says he misses you.”

  “You didn’t tell him what condition I’m in, did you?” There was genuine alarm on Jason’s face.

  “No. I told him you’re sick.” It was the truth. No matter what Martin had said, there was no way Kale could have fully understood the extent of Jason’s condition.

  “Good.”

  “He wants to see you, though. When I told him you were sick, I had to physically restrain him from coming up here.”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “No, Martin. Don’t let him. You can’t let him. He can’t see me like this. Not like this. He deserves so much better. He can’t see what a mess I’ve made of everything.”

  “He won’t mind. He cares about you.”

  “No. Keep him out. Please, Martin. Please, you have to make sure he doesn’t see me like this.” Jason’s hands were clasped in front of him in supplication, and his eyes were wild with fear. The lines of tension in his face were deep and pronounced.

  “All right, I won’t let him come.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise. Now calm down, lie back, and just try to rest.”

  Jason settled back down. “Thank you.”

  “I think it’s the wrong choice, but it’s yours to make, and I’ll honor it. He’s the one who caused all this. He should at least be here to see it.”

  “It’s not his fault, Martin. You don’t understand.”

  “If you say so, but if you don’t improve soon, I’m going to have to send for the doctor again.”

  Jason’s hands dug into Martin’s arms in desperation. “No, Martin. I can’t stand for anyone to see me like this. I’m too ashamed.”

  “Ashamed or not, this may be beyond our capabilities.”

  “It’s not. I’m getting better. I promise.”

  “This is the longest you’ve been lucid in a while.”

  “See.” Jason said it with the conviction of a child proving to his mother that he could have what he wanted.

  “If you keep improving, I see no need to involve the doctor. But, if you don’t show significant improvement tomorrow, I’ll have Sophie fetch him.”

  “Fine.” Jason sulked into his pillow, but Martin could see the worry in his eyes.

  When Martin had gone through this with his father, it hadn’t been nearly so bad. Looking back, though, he wasn’t entirely convinced his father had quit so completely. This was out of Martin’s depth, but he could understand Jason’s feelings. If a man didn’t have his pride, what did he have?

  Martin went to the bathroom and brought back a dampened washcloth. Perched next to Jason on the bed, he gently removed the sweat, first from Jason’s face, and then his arms. A bath would do him wonders, but Martin worried that he might become disoriented. Mixed with a slick floor, that could lead to disaster. This would have to do until he was convinced Jason was lucid for good.

  “Get these sheets off me.” Jason violently attacked the sheets, succeeding only in tangling himself further. “Get them off!”

  It was starting again. Foregoing the bath had been the correct choice. “Here, let me help you. Calm down.” In a few seconds, Martin had deftly released Jason from his web.

  “Make it stop.” Jason’s eyes were riveted on his shaking right hand. “Make it stop.”

  Martin reached over and clasped the hand in both of his, forcing it to still as much as was possible.

  “No, the other one. Dear gods, what’s going on?” Jason’s left hand had started to tremble too, and he lifted it to his head, pulling fiercely at his hair.

  “Shh. Let me help.” Martin released the hand and grabbed both of Jason’s wrists while simultaneously standing on the bed and lowering himself behind Jason. Maintaining his grip, he enveloped Jason with his arms and legs. Pulling Jason’s back flush against his chest, he began to rock.

  “It’s going to be all right. You’re just having a bad spell is all. It’ll pass.”

  “What’s happening to me, Martin? I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

  “You’re not. You’re getting it back.”

  Miraculously, after a few minutes of rocking, Martin felt Jason’s body slacken. A minute later, he heard the snoring that signaled Jason had finally succumbed to sleep. Martin carefully scooted out from under him and situated Jason comfortably in the bed.

  These were rare moments for Martin to do a little straightening up and get some washcloths ready, should he need them. Martin was happy to do it, but he knew he wasn’t the one who should be there. Martin cared for Jason, but it was clear Jason and Kale had some special bond. Kale could be a comfort to him in a way that Martin never would. Despite what Jason said, Martin knew Kale was the reason behind this. The least the slave could do was be there to see what Jason was suffering through, to witness the price Jason was paying for his sobriety.

  If things weren’t better tomorrow, he would have Sophie bring the doctor. And, whether Jason liked it or not, he would bring Kale in. There was only so much Martin could do, and he was quickly losing his footing. Martin prayed to the saints that it wouldn’t come to having to break his word.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jason cracked one eye open. The room was flooded with light. It was harsh after the da
rkness of sleep, but no more than was normal. His tongue swiped across his lips and found them dry and scaly. His whole mouth was dry. Opening his other eye, he looked around and tried to speak. “Water?”

  “Here.” Martin was there. It seemed Martin had been there a lot. He came out of the bathroom carrying a glass of water.

  The cool liquid was heavenly in Jason’s mouth. It tasted sweeter than any wine. He steadily drank until the glass was empty. “May I have another?”

  “Of course.” Martin smiled at him and went back to the bathroom.

  Jason sat up and looked around. The drapes were open. It looked like early afternoon. But of which day?

  “Here you go.”

  Jason took the glass again, and the water tasted just as good the second time. He drank leisurely, savoring the taste and allowing his mind the time to catch up and try to remember what had happened. It was a futile exercise. The last few days were nothing but a jumble of images, dark and blurry. They could be from a nightmare or reality. Jason had no way to differentiate.

  “Are you feeling better?” Martin took the empty glass from him and set it on the bedside table.

  “Yes, I think so. How long has it been?”

  “Since it started? This is the sixth day. Midway through the fourth day you turned a corner. Not long after, you fell asleep, and you’ve been out since then. I opened the drapes hoping that if you were ready to awaken, the light would encourage you.”

  “That was good. It helped.” Jason yawned and looked around again, barely able to believe that it had been so long. “Was I really out of it for five days?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I didn’t do anything too terrible, did I? It’s just that I have all these images in my head, and I don’t know what’s real and what was just a dream.”

  “It was pretty bad for a while, but you didn’t do anything to be ashamed of.”

  That was a relief. Only it wasn’t just Martin Jason worried about. He remembered talk of Kale. He saw him. Kale had come in and looked so disappointed in him, as if he could barely contain his disgust at seeing Jason.

  “Oh gods. Kale.”

  “It’s fine, I didn’t allow him in. He wanted to see you, badly. Once he realized something was going on, he was just as worried as the rest of us, perhaps more. We kept the worst of it from him, but he knows you were sick.”

  “But I saw him.”

  “No, it must have been a dream. I promise he didn’t see you the entire time.”

  “It seemed so real.”

  “I know. He would like to see you now, though. As soon as you feel up to it. He won’t take my word that you’re fine.”

  “I’ll go see him as soon as I’ve bathed.” Now that the most immediate concerns were out of the way, Jason felt like a mess. His hair was thick with grease, and every now and then he got a whiff of himself. It wasn’t pleasant.

  “There’s no need to leave your room today. I can have Kale come up here.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I want to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.”

  “Very well. I’ll run you a bath.”

  While Martin was in the bathroom, Jason swung his legs around the bed and stood, only to sit right back down. “Whoa, I didn’t expect that.” His head was spinning.

  Martin came rushing. “What?”

  “Nothing, just a little dizziness.”

  “Give it some time. Go a little slower.”

  Jason nodded and tried again, moving carefully. This time he made it to his feet without the fear of toppling over.

  An hour later, he felt like a new man. Fresh clothes, clean shave, and an appetite for more food than he had ever eaten in his life.

  * * *

  Jason caught a glimpse of Kale pacing around the kitchen before Kale was aware he was being watched. He reached for the spot where Jason now knew his lock of hair lay, caught himself, wrung his hands together, and then ran them through his hair. As soon as he saw Jason though, he stiffened, arms falling to his sides. Jason didn’t know why he had expected that behavior to change, but he had.

  “Look who’s decided to rejoin the land of the living. It’s good to have you back, sir.”

  It was easy to focus his attention on Sophie and put his disappointment at Kale’s response to the side. “Thank you, Sophie. It’s good to be back.”

  “Well, here, take a seat.” Sophie ushered him to the table. Kale’s feet stayed planted, but he followed Jason with his eyes, barely even blinking. It was a little disconcerting.

  “Let me get you something to eat.” Sophie went to the counter and sliced some bread.

  “Actually, I came to ask Kale if he would like to go for a walk with me to the park.” Jason fixed his eyes on Kale.

  Kale’s face gave nothing away. Jason wasn’t even sure Kale heard him.

  “Or we could stay home if you prefer. I just thought you might like to get out. You haven’t left the house since you arrived.”

  “I’ll do whatever you like, Master.”

  It would have almost been preferable for Kale to say that he didn’t even want to see Jason. At least then Jason would get some type of response from him. Jason didn’t know what to do. He wanted to spend time with Kale, but was afraid to push him.

  Behind Kale’s shoulder, Jason saw Sophie mouthing something. “Make him go.” At this point, Sophie knew Kale’s mind better than Jason did.

  “We’ll go to the park then. Sophie, could you pack us a lunch?”

  “Certainly, just give me a few minutes, and I’ll have a feast for you.”

  As Sophie prepared their meal, Jason occupied himself by winding his watch to avoid Kale’s insistent gaze. The slave remained motionless until Sophie announced that lunch was ready. Both Kale and Jason reached for the basket.

  “I’ll take that, Master.”

  “No, I can carry it.” Jason didn’t like Kale waiting on him.

  “You’re as wobbly as a new colt. I can handle it.” Kale’s voice was gruff and a little stern.

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Fine, then let me because I want to. It’s heavy. Sophie packed enough food for a small army. I don’t want you giving out. You’re still weak.”

  “He’s right, sir. Why don’t you let Kale take it?” Sophie implored as she placed a blanket on the basket.

  “I’m not weak.”

  “No, I’m sorry, Master. I just don’t want you to tire out.”

  Jason recognized that voice. It was the one Kale used to handle Jason. That little bit of familiarity lightened his mood, and Jason realized how silly this conversation was. Were they really arguing over who was going to carry the picnic basket? “Fine.” Jason relinquished his hold on the basket and thought he saw Kale push back a satisfied grin.

  * * *

  The walk to the park was silent. Jason could navigate his way there with his eyes closed. Before Kale’s return, he had tried to spend most nice afternoons there. Kale simply followed behind. This route would be new to him. Jason’s townhouse was on the other side of the park from the old one.

  Jason automatically went to his usual spot under a giant oak tree and heard a surprised intake of breath from Kale. Of course, this spot would be familiar to him. It was where they had sat together the day Kale had drawn his beautiful—and Jason later thought prophetic—picture of a weed. Over the years, this spot had become such a part of Jason’s routine that he had almost forgotten why he had chosen it.

  “This is my usual spot.” Jason smiled hesitantly at Kale.

  Kale nodded and unfolded the blanket. Once he had it arranged, he stood back as Jason sat.

  Jason sighed. “Come and sit with me.”

  Instead of sitting, Kale knelt. This was going to be a long afternoon.

  “Relax.” Jason tried to sound both commanding and encouraging at the same time. It seemed Kale wasn’t going to do much without an order. Other than carry the basket, of course.

  “You say that like it’s
easy.”

  “There’s no reason it shouldn’t be.” When would Kale understand that? Or were the experiences of the last three years etched too deeply for him to ever trust someone who owned him?

  “Reason? You own me. That’s reason enough.”

  “Yes, but I’ve been more than that to you in the past, and I hope to be more than that again someday.” Jason wished he could kick himself. They both knew what he was after, and it was probably a vain hope, but Jason couldn’t help himself. “Please, all I mean is that you have nothing to fear from me. I wish you realized that, but if I need to keep reminding you, I’m happy to.”

  “I thought you might be mad at me.” Kale still didn’t meet Jason’s eyes properly.

  “Mad at you? For what?” Of all the things Jason expected Kale to say, this was not one of them.

  “For what you went through. It was for me, wasn’t it?”

  “No, Kale, it wasn’t. It was for me. You may have helped me see that it was necessary, that I had let myself get too far out of control, but it was something I needed to do.”

  “You never drank like that before. I figured it was because of me, of how I left you.”

  “You made your choices, and I made mine. You’re not to blame for what happened after you left. That was all me. I handled it poorly.”

  Kale snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

  Jason laughed. It felt good, like he was breaking apart the last remnants of the past week and shaking them off. It seemed to startle Kale as much as it did Jason, because Kale finally looked at him—really looked at him—for the first time. The relief on his face was clear. But was it relief over Jason’s health or just the more comfortable atmosphere?

  “What were you expecting to see?” Jason asked.

  Kale shook his head. “I was worried is all. We all were. Martin looked like the god of death my mother used to describe in her stories. I always knew he struck me as familiar, but I didn’t know where from until you were sick.”