by Robin Roseau
“You become exceedingly agreeable. I will personally take care of you until it wears off.”
“Okay, I understand that. But what about them?” I gestured.
“I will give you three days once this has worn off, and then we will meet again. I do not promise to change my mind, but I will give you the chance to convince me.”
“You don’t have to do this, Claary,” Feelie said.
“If I’m seen walking to your home, it will be assumed I have become a collaborator.”
She smiled. “I told you I would share my title. I will do so now. I am Lady Olivia, Duchess Charthen.”
“Duchess Charthen.”
“Yes. The Charthen Council has surrendered to my forces, and the country is now annexed. It is now a duchy of Ressaline, and I am the legal ruler. Do you wish to argue I am not?”
“No, but I don’t want to argue about it with someone who has decided to murder me for being a collaborator. I rather think I might be too late to do so. You could take me in chains, but I think that is also a mistake.”
“Then I will take you home but in disguise,” she said.
“And what will you tell anyone looking for me, such as my family?”
“I will state that you are arguing for mercy for the remaining members of the council, and that you will be returned in a day or three. I will send Ms. Marsh to do so for me.”
I shook my head. “I take that. I’m out of my mind for a while. I’m fine afterwards.”
“Perfectly, although it does not wear off all at once. It is not precise. The full strength may last two or three days, but probably not, and then it will take another day or two before you are entirely yourself again. I’ll be able to tell when it is safe to return you home.”
“How?”
“You’ll start to argue with me again.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “You’ll offer clemency.”
“No, but I will give you every chance to convince me.”
“Will I be able to?”
“I don’t know. They aren’t arguing about this. Maybe that should tell you something.”
“Give it here.” I reached for it, but she pulled it away.
“I wish to do this myself.”
“Fine. Do it.”
“You won’t be so demanding in about five minutes,” she said. She twisted the cork out. “Open.”
I opened my mouth. She used one hand on the back of my head, two fingers against my chin, and then she tipped the bottle onto my tongue before closing my mouth. She wrapped her palm over my mouth and used her fingers to plug my nose.
I couldn’t help it. I swallowed, and once I had, she let me open my mouth to breathe, then after a moment, released my nose. “Look into my eyes, Ms. Rosebush.”
I did as she ordered, but I brushed at my lips for a moment. It hadn’t tasted good, either.
“I feel funny,” I said after a minute.
“I imagine you do,” she replied. She watched me, and after another minute, I began to smile.
“There you are,” she said. “How do you feel, Claary?”
“Good,” I whispered.
“You will obey me, won’t you, Claary?” Slowly I nodded. “That’s a good girl. Does anything hurt?”
“No, Olivia.”
She asked me several more questions. I was able to answer them. And when she called me a good girl, it felt so good, and I smiled more broadly.
“We’re going to disguise you now,” she said. “Take off all your clothing.” I did what she said. And then she and her secretary dressed me in the same sort of leather clothing worn by the soldiers. They added a leather mask and bound my hair up inside a broad hat.
And then she took my hand. “Let’s go home.”
“Okay.”
* * * *
She led me home, and once there, she had me change clothes again, this time into a simple shift. I did whatever she said, and it felt so good. It felt even better when she told me I was a good girl.
And then she treated me like a personal servant. I massaged her feet. I massaged her hands. I helped her make dinner, and then I cleaned up afterwards. I gave her a complete massage, and her moans of pleasure were music to my ears.
She told me where to find her robe. I helped her into it, and then she led me through the house. She had a pallet in a closet waiting for me and said, “This is your room. It is very comfortable, and you love being here when you aren’t serving me.”
She ordered me to lie down, and then she covered me. She kissed my forehead and told me, “Good girls stay in bed until morning. You’re a good girl and will stay here until someone gets you.”
Then she left me, taking the lantern and closing the door. I lay in the dark, thinking about what a good girl I was, until I slept.
In the morning, I woke slowly, and then I sat on the pallet, staring at the light coming under the bottom of the door. I remembered everything that had happened. I didn’t try to leave.
Then I heard footsteps. A moment later, the door opened. Olivia saw me sitting up. She entered the closet, setting the lantern on its hook, and knelt down.
“I don’t feel very good,” I said.
“I know,” she replied. “It’s wearing off.”
I looked up into her eyes. “I don’t feel very good, Olivia.”
“I know.” She brushed my cheek. “Give me your hands.”
It might be wearing off, but I wasn’t ready to argue with her. I gave her my hands, and she lifted me. She led me from the closet. She had me see to my most immediate needs, and then we sat down on a love seat in the front parlor, the curtains drawn so I wasn’t visible from the street. I stared straight ahead.
“It’s not terrible,” she said.
“This part isn’t so good.”
“No, it’s not. They won’t experience this part. They’ll experience what you did yesterday. Was that terrible?”
“No.”
“Are you ready to admit the truth? You liked it?”
“Not enough to want to do it again.”
“Perhaps not,” she said. “Some people come to other conclusions.”
I turned to her. “A year?”
“I’m not ready to share that story with you yet.”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t feel good.”
“Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t know. You promised to take care of me. Take care of me.”
“Oh, Claary,” she said. “Lean back. Close your eyes. Trust me now.”
* * * *
She saw to me. I felt terrible the entire day. But she saw to me, giving me water, more water than I wanted, and feeding me by hand.
“Why did you do this to me?”
“You did it to yourself,” she said.
“No. I opened my mouth. You poured.”
“So I did. You asked.”
“You know what I’m asking, Olivia. I thought we agreed not to play these games.”
“I am only saying you had a choice.”
“Fine. I had a choice. But it was a price for something. I want to know why.”
“How could I possibly take you seriously if you didn’t know why you were arguing, and why I don’t think it’s as horrible as you did?”
I said nothing, but I leaned sideways and set my head on her shoulder. “I want to hate you.”
“I know.”
“I want to know what happens now.”
“You’ll feel much better by morning.”
“Do you misinterpret my questions intentionally?”
“Perhaps you should be more precise.”
“What happens to all of us? You said we would integrate into your society. I want to know what that means.”
“I’ll tell you that when I tell you the story of my year. They are related.”
“When?”
“Stage one ends when we resolve the status of your council women. Stage two involves learning what we have taken. We must discover who our new subjects are.
We must determine who owns which real estate. We must know whom works where. We must handle issues of inheritance.”
“And stage three?”
“That is when I will tell you of my one year.”
“Fine. Can you please make me feel better?”
She did, but it took time.
* * * *
She returned me home late that night. I slept in my own bed, with no one the wiser how I’d spent the last two days.
In the morning, I felt good enough to work. I saw to the breakfast crowd before presenting myself to the council. Olivia hadn’t arrived yet, but I sat down with the nine and answered their questions.
“I’ll accept my fate,” Marsen said.
“You don’t deserve it,” I said.
“I accepted my position, and I performed it poorly.”
“You’re barely older than I am, and people make mistakes,” I said. “You shouldn’t have to pay with the rest of your life.”
“You said it was pleasant.”
“She was being very kind, but I would have done anything anyone told me to do. Is that how you want to live? Anyone could tell you to…” I trailed off, realizing she didn’t have to worry about any men telling her anything. Not that women couldn’t be cruel, too.
“I’ll accept my fate,” Marsen said.
That was when the doors opened. Olivia stepped in, her honor guard taking up their positions. I stood and faced her.
“Feeling better, Ms. Rosebush?”
“Yes,” I said. “You promised you would listen.”
“Listen, yes, but I promised no more than that.”
I didn’t have an argument, not really. “I ask you to offer mercy.”
“That’s it?” she asked after a moment. “You ask me to offer mercy? This is mercy, Ms. Rosebush. People died. You do realize that. Charthan and Ressaline soldiers died. Here and there, farmers and villagers died when they tried to fight us. Your families have been torn asunder because of the poor leadership of your council. Mercy was allowing these three to remain here.”
“I don’t know what you want.”
“I want to roll back time and knock some sense into this council two years ago. I can’t do that.”
I looked down. “Do you have any discretion at all?”
“Some. I’m not going to pardon them. I don’t have that much discretion. As is, Queen Lisdee may not be happy I kept these three here.”
“You said you accepted this for a year.”
“I did,” she said.
“So it can be longer than a day but not permanent.”
“Yes, it can.”
“Then don’t make it permanent,” I said. “Make it a year, like you went through. If your queen isn’t satisfied, she can order them delivered, or order you to make it permanent. But it sounds like once you make it permanent, you can’t reverse it.”
She considered me for a minute then turned away and began pacing the room. No one spoke. Finally she came to a stop, looking out the window at one of the village greens. “If it is permanent, I can give them to their families. If it is temporary, I must give them to members of my army.”
“People stationed here?”
“Yes, or take them in myself, but I do not care to do so.”
“Will they be abused?”
“No, but they will be used, and I won’t interfere in how.”
“Why can’t you give them to their families?”
“It takes a fresh dose daily,” she replied. “And I’m not letting anyone else administer it.” She turned around and looked at the three council members. “That is the offer. You may choose to be permanently pacified, and I will return you to your families, or to whomever you specify before we do this. Or you may accept a year, but you will be given to my officers, to be utilized as they choose. After a year, the drug will wear off, but it will take up to a weak or two, and it is an unpleasant period.”
“It was a day for me.”
“You had one dose, and not a particularly large one. Did you enjoy withdrawal?”
“No.”
“That is my offer.”
“Give them to me instead,” I blurted.
She spun to me and pointed a finger. She considered me for a moment then said, “An interesting idea, but problematic.”
“Why? If I fail to bring them for their daily dose, you can claim me as punishment.”
“Because as you said, they’ll do anything they’re told, and someone could tell them, ‘Come with me’.”
“Oh.”
“Are you able to each decide, or do you need time?”
They each accepted a year. I stayed while she drugged each of them. Ten minutes later, we watched as they were led from the council chambers. I stared after them, long after the doors closed. No one spoke, not for a long time, until Olivia declared, “Phase One has ended. For now, I will work through this council. You do not require additional members. If some of you wish to retire from the council, you may do so. If I feel you require replacements, I will direct you to find them.”
She answered questions, and then Mistee and the other three most elderly council members asked permission to resign.
I went home.
* * * *
I went about my duties. We found a new normal. The town actually entered a period of plenty. Half our population had left, leaving most of their wealth behind. The women stepped in, taking over businesses, leading their families, and seeing to the needs of a people occupied by an invading army.
Olivia, working through the council, ordered a census. Street by street, everyone was ordered to present herself to the government house. Those with children were required to bring them. We were each interviewed, although the questions were basic. Who were we? Where did we live? Where did we work? Who else lived in the house with us. Could we read? Do numbers?
Then there were other questions. Did we consider ourselves a leader or a follower? Whom still living in Charth did we admire? Have we ever traveled? What were our aspirations?
Some people tried to avoid the census. I don’t know how, but when this happened, the soldiers conducted raids. I don’t know if they found every holdout, but they found a number, and when they did, they conducted highly public hearings, and at the conclusion, the women in question were publicly pacified.
When people asked my opinion, I said I thought it was harsh, but avoiding the census clearly wasn’t going to work.
* * * *
Our interviews were with officers of the military. Mine was a woman who introduced herself as Captain Bess. She took notes as she asked her questions. Most of the questions were quite easy. But then she set her pencil down and looked me in the eye. “What do you think of how I’m dressed?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not a difficult question,” she said. “Do you want me to stand so you can get another look?”
I considered a smart-ass answer, and then I couldn't help myself. “Do you ask everyone that question?”
“No, but you’re not unique, either.”
“All right. You first. What do you think of how I’m dressed?”
“I think you look very nice. You’re an attractive, intelligent woman. But your choice of clothing is boring, and I can envision several ways you would look much better.”
“I’m a barmaid,” I said. “Not a military officer.”
“These are civilian clothes,” she said. “Answer my question, Ms. Rosebush.”
“In a minute,” I replied. “Bess is your first name, but you call me Ms. Rosebush. Would you explain?”
“You are not yet integrated. I ask you to address me as I prefer in a professional setting, and I address you formally. If we were to become friends, you would call me Bess, and I would call you Claary. Answer my question.”
“All right. Yes, I’d like another look.”
“I’d be happy to.” She stood and moved out from behind the table. She was dressed in leather. They all wore leather, all leather, all the time.
“I can’t tell the difference between how you’re dressed now and how you might dress in uniform.”
“Of course you can, but you don’t recognize it. You are accustomed to a uniform like the city guard wears. When I am operating as a soldier, I would carry a sword and possibly a truncheon. I would probably have a pack of some sort with supplies. And I would carry signs of my rank.”
“So it is the same clothing?”
“Yes, although if you were to see me out for an evening with friends, I might dress in a wider variety of colors. I would not do so on duty.”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about clothing.”
“Will you please answer my question?” She took her seat.
“You look dashing,” I said. “I’ve never worn anything like this, and I’ve never seen so many people each wearing so much leather before.” I smiled. “Are your undergarments also leather?”
“No. Silk, actually. Others wear cotton, but silk is far more sleek and comfortable.”
“Is this a part of the official conversation?”
“Yes, actually. Do you resent our presence?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“It’s a perfectly reasonable question, Ms. Rosebush.”
“You invaded our country, evicted half our population, and drugged others. The entire town is afraid of what you’re going to do next. But you want to know if I resent you?”
“If it’s such an easy answer, why haven’t you said ‘yes’?”
I stared into her eyes for a minute. She waited patiently. Finally, I looked down and stared at my hands. “I really would like an answer, Ms. Rosebush.”
“It’s not that simple, is it?” I said softly. “You were driven to this.”
“We were. We could have taken what we want and then left. We might have, if we didn’t think your men would waltz right back in. Do you blame us for staying?”
“Not particularly, not after you were forced to all this work in the first place. But I’m still afraid.”
“We’ll get to that. Do you resent us, Ms. Rosebush?”
“No, but I am waiting for the other shoe to fall.” I looked up. “This is stage two. I don’t know what stage three is. Lady Olivia has only indicated there is to be a stage three.”