by Robin Roseau
But she simply collected my legs together and called out for rope. I struggled with her, but it was entirely ineffective, and a minute or two later, my legs were tightly trussed, even more tightly than she normally did them.
She remained on top of me but turned around so she was panting in my ear. My head was turned sideways, and I was panting as well.
But I didn't stop swearing.
"Enough," she said. "Silence."
As if. I spewed a long stream of invective, all of it in English, much of it addressing her lineage. I believe the word 'goats' appeared once or twice. She wouldn't understand any of it, but she certainly understood the tone.
She spoke harshly, but I was too far gone to listen. But when the rags for the gag appeared in front of my mouth, I shut up.
"Open," she ordered.
I deflated. I was still angry. But I hurt. I had fresh bruises on top of my other aches and abrasions on my face. But I was helpless and feeling deeply vulnerable, and I was feeling humiliated besides. The gag was too much.
"I'll be quiet," I said.
"Open. Or we'll do it the other way. I won't ask a third time."
I didn't say anything. I only stared at the rags in her hand. And then I felt her start to climb from me, and I knew what would happen next.
I opened my mouth.
A moment later, she filled it with the rags, and then she tied it off. And for the first time since she arrived on my doorstep, she tied it cruelly tight, causing me to grunt in surprise.
Then she climbed from me. She spoke harshly, but I didn't understand, and I'm not sure it was meant for me.
I didn't watch her walk away from me.
A few minutes later, several of the men crouched down around me. Without a word, they picked up my limp body, carried me a short distance, then set me down onto one of the pads they used. They left me to arrange myself however I wanted, and I curled into a ball, as best I could.
For the next hour, no one said a word to me. I wouldn't have wanted anyone to, anyway.
Eventually, Sartine returned, sitting down on the ground near my head. I glanced up at her, then returned to staring straight ahead.
She didn't say anything at first, but when she set a hand on my shoulder, I shook it off.
"You're still angry."
She'd had her walk. I'd had nothing but to lie here in my humiliation, burning with resentment. Of course I was still angry. I wasn't going to get over it while she treated me like this.
Two days ago, I'd made a mistake. I was sure of it now. The writing was on the wall for how she thought she could treat me.
She climbed to her feet. "We'll talk when you're ready."
I immediately protested into the gag. I wanted to talk now. But she didn't even pause as she walked away.
She left me until long after dinner, until the darkest of night had arrived. I spent the entire time fuming, bored out of my skull. I was filled with a long list of emotions, all of them negative.
But finally she returned. She sat down like she had before. And before touching me, she said, "Think about the results of any reaction you have." She paused a second or two before setting a hand on my shoulder.
This time, I didn't shake her off.
"Better," she said. "Are you ready to talk?"
I was ready to be untied and ungagged. To talk? I didn't think I was ever going to be ready to talk to her again. I didn't respond.
"I know you're listening," she said after a moment. "I presume the lack of reaction means 'no', but you don't want me to leave." I didn't respond to that, either, but she wasn't having it. "Cecilia, I require a response to that, or I will assume I am wrong, and I will leave. I won't be back until morning."
At that, I whined into the gag.
"Was my first assumption right? You're still angry, but you are asking me not to leave you like this?" And I nodded emphatically.
"All right," she said. "You will listen, and when I ask a question, you will offer some sort of response so that at least I know you are listening." And I nodded. "Cecilia, do you doubt my resolve to treat you in this fashion?" I shook my head. "Have I sufficiently demonstrated my willingness to treat you this way if it is required? I can provide a more complete demonstration if you remain unconvinced."
I complained into the gag about that.
"Have I demonstrated sufficiently?" she clarified, and I nodded emphatically.
"Good. I don't like doing this to you. I do not believe it is good for our relationship."
Funny. What an understatement. I didn't respond.
"Whether you are willing to call me that or not, I am Vendart to all these people here, and a great many more. And you are my galatzi prisoner. I intend you to be my galatzi wife, and you agreed to this relationship. I suspect, however, that if I asked your opinion on the subject right now, you would happily accept a return to Sudden. Wouldn't you?"
And I nodded.
"Cecilia, I cannot allow you to speak to me the way you spoke to me. If we were in private, we could fight. We can argue and disagree, even in public. But I absolutely cannot allow the level of disrespect you showed me."
She could get stuffed.
"I know. The fight was at least half my fault. But whether you call me that or not, I am your vendart, and when I order you to do something, you will do it. If I order you to sit while I tie your legs, you will do it. And if you ever fight with me physically again, I will treat you the way I treated you tonight, and a whole lot worse. We both are responsible for the fight, and we are both responsible for letting it get out of hand. But you are the one who demanded it turn physical. I would have been satisfied with tying your legs, and if you were too vile with your words, the gag."
I thought about it all. I didn't say anything.
She took a breath before continuing, her tone softer. "Your face is scratched. It needs cleaning. I am going to say a few things, and then I will give you the choice of responding immediately, and then cleaning your cuts, or cleaning your cuts while you consider your response. Do you understand?"
I nodded with a small grunt.
"I presume you wish to be ungagged. I presume you would prefer to sleep in the tent beside me than out here where you are. Am I right?"
I nodded.
She leaned over me. "Good. Now listen carefully. I will offer to remove the gag, and I will offer you your place in the tent. But if I remove the gag, you are going to take a moment to compose yourself, and then you are going to say, sufficiently loudly for at least the closest members of our audience to hear you, that you are sorry for fighting with me. You will promise to be more respectful in the future. We are both very strong willed women, and I do not expect us to never fight, but I require a promise that you can keep. Do you know how you will respond to my demand?"
I nodded. She'd get her apology.
"Good. I bet the answer is agreement. But I'm not done. I also require you to call me Vendart during your apology and promise, said clearly and respectfully. I will consider it the token of respect as you intended with Baadrorid, and not the oath of fealty you believe it really means. But I require it, Cecilia. I need to hear it, but more importantly, my people need to hear it."
I couldn't. I just couldn't. I whimpered into the gag.
She sighed. I was sure the reason for my whimper was clear.
"I need this, Cecilia. And frankly, so do you. You need to finish accepting the situation for what it is. We can privately discuss our relationship another time, but publicly, I am Vendart, and you will address me in that fashion and with the respect of my position."
She squeezed my shoulder for a moment.
"I will let you decide if you wish to apologize or to think. If you deny my requirements, then I will loosen your gag so it is not so uncomfortable, if you promise not to spit it out. But if you send me away again, I won't be back again until morning. So. Three choices. Agree to my terms. I will remove the gag and you will offer your apology. You will call me Vendart, at least once, bu
t I would prefer twice. Second choice. Think about it while I clean your cuts. Third choice. Refuse to apologize and to call me Vendart. I will loosen your gag and clean your cuts, and we will have this conversation again tomorrow morning." She paused. "Last choice. Agree to apologize, but lie to me, and do not give me the apology I require. If you do that, I will replace the gag just as tightly as it is now, and you will not only sleep out here, I will strive to make it less pleasant than it could be. Do not take option four. Do not test my resolve, Cecilia."
I whimpered. I wanted a proper negotiation. She wasn't offering one.
This was crappy diplomacy.
"First. Apologize immediately." I shook my head.
"Second. Think about it longer?" And to that, I nodded.
"All right," she said. "Do you believe you are going to take option four?"
I didn't know. I didn't respond.
She sighed again. "You want to negotiate. There will be no negotiation. You have four choices. There is no apology without my title. Does that make it easier to decide? Option four?"
And at that I shook my head.
"I will loosen your gag now. Do you promise not to spit it out? I will be cruel if you break this promise." And so I nodded.
She loosened the gag immediately. My mouth hurt terribly, and it wasn't much relief, but it was perhaps something. Then she helped me to sit up. It was difficult without something to lean against, bound as I was, so she moved behind me to support me.
I hadn't seen it when she arrived, but she had a bowl of water and a rag, and while kneeling behind me, one arm around me, she began to clean the cuts on my face.
"These were not intentional," she said. "I tried to end the fight without hurting you more than necessary."
She could have hurt me a whole lot more than she had, so I nodded slightly.
The cuts stung, and I would have preferred proper antiseptic. But it only took her a few minutes, and she was gentle. When she was finished, she wrapped both her arms around me and held me, whispering into my ear.
"I know it's hard, Cecilia. But you can handle a difficult task. Do you have your answer ready?"
I nodded slowly.
"Are you ready to apologize?"
Again, I nodded slowly.
She held her breath, and if she reached for the gag, I was going to complain. But then she asked the important question. "Are you ready to call me Vendart?"
She may not have seen the tears begin to roll from my cheeks as I shook my head.
"Please, Cecilia. You're going to submit eventually."
I shook my head again.
"Yes, you are. You do not know how stubborn I am. My offer to return you to Sudden has expired. The moral ambiguity has expired. You agreed to this relationship, and while you may not have fully admitted to all of it, and you may not have realized the implications, you knew I am vendart, and you understood enough."
I didn't respond. I wasn't ready to admit she was right.
"You know I'll leave you here like this, Cecilia. And you want me to win. You know I can't let you win, not on this. I can on so many things, but not on this. Please, offer the apology and my title."
And I shook my head.
She sighed.
"I hope you do not take too long to change your mind."
I didn't even resist as she laid me back down onto the pad. She climbed to her feet, collected the bowl and rag, and walked away.
* * * *
Twenty minutes later, someone appeared with a pillow. No words were exchanged, and I didn't even look at her. But she lifted my head and slipped the pillow under it. She added two blankets across the top.
It was a long, cold, miserable night.
Indartha
Other than meals and water, I remained gagged. Sartine ordered me to speak no words whenever she removed the gag to feed me, forcing a promise first, and so I spoke not a single word.
I would have apologized for the fight, and she knew it. But I had my back up about the title. I refused to acknowledge she held a position of authority over me. I would have argued it with her, but she didn't allow an argument. Instead, periodically, she offered to allow me to apologize, with her title, and each time, I refused.
The nights remained long and cold.
I couldn't have been more miserable.
During our lunch break on the fourth day in the mountains, they propped me against a tree and bound my legs. Ten minutes later, she returned with both her uncles and two of the other men. I still hadn't learned everyone's name. When they spoke to each other, it was all done so rapidly, I couldn't catch names. And no one had spent significant effort teaching me names.
Sartine knelt down in front of me. "You know my question."
I glanced up at the men, waiting for me.
"They're for something else. I am not changing my demand. Will you do what I want?"
And I shook my head.
"Cecilia, I believe you will feel humiliated if we arrive in Indartha while you are gagged. Will you please reconsider?"
I shook my head.
"We will not arrive today. It will be sometime tomorrow. But an hour ago, we passed an important landmark, and I now wish to tie your hands the other way. That is why they are here." I looked back up at the men, then back to her. "This is the last time I will ask before we arrive in Indartha sometime tomorrow. If you turn me down, you will remain gagged at least until after our arrival. Furthermore, you will also arrive hungry and thirsty, as I am not removing your gag for meals or water."
I looked away.
"Please, Cecilia."
And I shook my head.
"Your arrival in Indartha will be much more pleasant if you give me this small thing. You know I'm right about that."
It wasn't a small thing, and I didn't even bother responding.
"I wish-" she paused. "So be it. We are going to retie your hands the other way. I have more than enough help. Will you cooperate?"
I looked back at her, and I didn't discourage the tear from crawling down my face. If she was bothered by it, she didn't react. But I nodded agreement. I would cooperate.
She took me at her word. She was the only one who touched me. She untied my hands and allowed me to massage my wrists for a minute. But then she said, "Cross them," and I did, palms up, the way she had done it before. She bound them, and she didn't need to order me to reach over my head. She secured them that way and tested everything.
"I-" she looked into my face. "Please, Cecilia. Please. We both need this. Please."
And, slowly, I shook my head.
* * * *
I may have dozed that night, but I certainly didn't sleep. No one troubled me, although there was a rotating watch that checked me periodically. When the covers slipped from me, they were replaced fifteen minutes later, but no words were spoken.
My dispute was with Sartine, and they were letting her manage me.
By morning, she might have been able to talk me into apologizing, if only for a few minutes of relief in my arms and some warm food.
But she had said she wouldn't ask, and she didn't.
My arrival to Indartha could have been less pleasant, but I did not arrive with the joy I could have had. I blamed Sartine and her insistence I give her more than I could.
We were seen as we approached the village, nestled in a lovely valley with high mountains all around us. I knew immediately I would not have clear access to the southern sky from her home, and if I wished to send messages, I would need to climb one of the ridges. The Empire had many possible solutions for this problem, but I didn't have any of them with me. And so I would remain cut off from outside contact, unless I climbed the ridge.
At least I had the power reserves for a longer conversation, if the opportunity presented itself. The embassy didn't have a vehicle capable of reaching me here, but I hoped they were acquiring one. If not, when next I talked, I would order one myself. But who knew when that might be, and when it might arrive from a less isolated planet?
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I was deeply beaten, beaten and horribly demoralized, but I wasn't so beaten I had no curiosity and no ability to appreciate what I was seeing.
Sartine's village was beautiful. The mountains were beautiful, too. There was a river running beside the village, dumping into a small lake, and that was also beautiful.
As I said, we were seen. A group this size couldn't be easily missed. The cry went ahead, and people turned out long before we arrived at the village square. The mood was jubilant, even amongst the weary travelers. Even I was ready for the end of the journey, in this isolated location.
But the villagers were jubilant and vocal, although as they saw me, they stared, growing quiet, then talking amongst themselves. Perhaps they expected a galatzi prisoner, but I thought it more likely they expected a galatzi wife. And while it may have been the tradition even a galatzi wife would arrive in the village with her hands bound as mine were, perhaps the gag was not so expected.
Some pointed. A few nudged each other and laughed. Others were quiet. I pretended to ignore them all, sitting stiffly and pretending to stare straight ahead.
There was a village green. It sat on the edge of the lake and was otherwise surrounded by shops of various sorts on two sides and a modest manor home on the other side, flanked by several other, smaller homes. I guessed -- accurately, I would confirm later -- that the largest home belonged to the vendart. But it was not ostentatiously sized, but instead a good size for a vendart, two of her siblings, and a number of expected, but not yet arrived children.
And one galatzi prisoner, of course.
We came to a stop at the edge of the green, people rushing forth to hold the heads of our horses as we descended. I received more help than necessary, but as weary as I was, I appreciated it at the same time. Then Sartine was beside me, clutching one of my bound arms, and my assistance moved away, someone taking the horse with him.
Near the water, not in the center of the green, but still in a prominent location, was a roofed gazebo. Sartine pulled me in that direction, and together we climbed the steps. Everyone in the village -- and I would learn later it was literally everyone, minus a few that were out hunting -- assembled in a half circle around us. The people who had traveled with us were moving between the crowd, collecting their welcomes for their return, a few greeting an obvious spouse, child, parent, or sibling. Sartine let them enjoy their welcome home before she lifted the hand not holding me and called out, "It is good to be home!"