by Susan Wright
"We will leave you to your pleasure," Lexander suddenly announced. It sounded as if his jaw was clenched.
Perhaps Silvo heard his fury, but he would assume it was a reaction to his insult—taunting the pleasure masters with a toy more worthy than theirs.
Renata ordered the slaves to follow, bidding the doj a falsely affectionate farewell.
Then they were gone and I had to focus on the task at hand, confirming Silvo’s assertion that I was preferable to the attentions of two well-trained pleasure slaves.
The next day when I arrived at the cellar, Lexander was waiting for me. "Marja, have you gone mad?"
I removed the silk brocade cloak Silvo had given me. "I’ve made an ally of the doj."
"You brought yourself to Renata’s attention. Now she will not rest until she owns you." He ran a hand over his smooth head, a rare gesture of despair. "They rely on the doj to grant export of pleasure slaves from Veneto, but the tariffs are high. They’ve been trying to ease the burden by making him reliant on them. Then you appear!"
"I have influence over him," I reminded him.
"Only until Renata offers him something he wants more. She was annoyed enough after that display, flaunting his attention elsewhere."
I shook my head. "I give Silvo things he can’t get—" "Pleasure is fleeting, Marja. And even your ability to submit is not enough."
"I rely on the spirits, as well as my own nature," I insisted. "I can save the slaves and destroy Castropiero at the same time."
Lexander’s tone was harsh. "I should take you away from here before it’s too late. If I go fetch Bene, will you wait here until I return?"
"No. But you should send Bene to me. I’m afraid that your toying with him is hurting him. He doesn’t need another master, Lexander."
"Then you refuse to leave with me?" he demanded. "I think you have gone mad. The doj is nobody to trifle with, Marja."
I took a deep breath. "Please, Lexander, when I send you a message to leave Castropiero, get Bene out immediately. Otherwise I’ll have to rescue you both from the doj’s prison."
I turned and left the cellar. I had never walked away from Lexander before. But now I hurried from Castropiero and everything that love had once meant to me.
I avoided Castropiero after that. I couldn’t bear to see Lexander again.
The doj, on the other hand, showered me with gifts in the hope of making me dependent on him. He persisted even though I cared not for such things. I traded one ring with a fiery stone for the use of a room in a boardinghouse. It was on the western end of Veneto where the sun lowered over the bay. I could sit in the window and touch the water when I reached down with my hand.
I gave the sea spirits everything in exchange for their images. The distant ship movements were confusing, the images jumbled and fragmented, a string of instants preserved in watery echoes by the spirits. Some things didn’t make sense to me or the doj. Sometimes the passing of time brought clarity. But there was enough of interest to keep the doj fascinated beyond the visceral delight I could give him.
Every scrap of information had the potential to be the key I could use to free the pleasure slaves. I concentrated on the ships since most of the waterside activities were too mundane—fishermen in humble villages, women collecting shellfish in the tidal plains, and busy shopkeepers along the Veneto channels going about their business.
Very late one night, I was considering the montage the sea spirits were showing me when it all came together. The Cilean ships were returning stealthily, alone and in pairs. They had caught my eye for days because similar ships had attacked the Veneto perimeter fleet not long ago. But I hadn’t noticed until now that they were moving ever northward toward the water city despite their seemingly east-west tack.
The fact that they had not yet drawn together was deceptive. Likely the merchant shipmasters who had seen them were also not alarmed.
The first line of Veneto defense, the perimeter fleet, had been destroyed while the remnants were in the repair docks. For the moment, Veneto was vulnerable to just such a furtive approach by an enemy fleet.
I gathered all the information I could, knowing that something inconsequential could tip the balance in convincing the doj. I could not show any undue eagerness. I readied for bed, prepared to launch my attack against Castropiero after I had warned Lexander and Bene to get out.
I asked an olf to go into Castropiero for the first time in days. When it returned, the olf’s puffy face was crumpled in pain.
Going closer, I murmured assurances, hoping it wouldn’t simply disappear. "What did you see?" I breathed, holding out my hands for the olf to rest on.
The olf whispered, "The game has ended."
My heart twisted—Renata must have discovered Lexander was not an assessor. But I couldn’t react, not with the olf ready to vanish at any moment.
"What’s happened to them?" I asked. "Are they still . . . alive?"
The olf was trembling, but I coaxed everything out, forcing myself to remain calm despite every revelation. Lexander had been thrown into a cellar and was lying unconscious. Bene had been beaten and questioned by Renata until he was insensible. The agony in his torn back flared red-hot through the olf. I had no doubt that Bene had told the mistress everything he knew.
The olf disappeared in a blue flash, and I nearly toppled off the windowsill trying to stop it. But I had heard enough. Renata knew Lexander was renegade. She would send both of them to Stanbulin as soon as passage could be arranged.
20
At first light, I returned to the palace and went to the doj’s anteroom. The sentries wouldn’t let anyone into Silvo’s private chambers unless he specifically ordered it, and no one would dare wake him unless it was an emergency.
Anything out of the ordinary might arouse the doj’s suspicions, so I waited patiently in the anteroom. I couldn’t take any interest in the information I brought him. Yet I would have to carefully orchestrate what I told him in order to prompt him to move against Castropiero.
When the doj appeared, I was curled up on the divan in one of the low-cut, elegant dresses he favored. Petitioners usually waited in the anteroom to see him on business, but if anyone else had been present, I wouldn’t have dared take such a provocative pose. It was Silvo’s choice to whom he exposed me.
"Early again, Marja?" He gestured for me to follow him into his private chamber with the mezzanine. The round tables were stacked with new documents.
"The spirits showed me there are Cilean ships in the bay," I told him. "Some are traveling in pairs."
"Where?" Silvo demanded.
I shook my head. "It’s confusing because they keep changing course. But there’s at least threescore of them."
Silvo was scowling down at a paper. "That is more than I was told. The Cileans would not likely send reinforcements when my scouts report they have retreated."
I sat down, tucking my legs beneath me. Idly gazing out the glass, I said, "Oh, no, they’re heading toward Veneto."
He looked up at that. I set my chin dreamily on the back of my hand and watched the birds flying to their tiny nests in the carved eaves of the palace. I emptied my mind of everything but the sky and the giddy olfs bouncing on the steps up to the mezzanine.
"Do you have any idea how close they are?" he pressed.
"No," I said. "But I could ask, if you wish."
"Do that." His tone was grim, as if already pondering how to proceed. He would likely send out more scouts. But the Cileans could turn and retreat at any time. I needed to be sure they would continue advancing to be able to use them effectively against Castropiero.
From the anteroom beyond came the rising voices of councilors and petitioners who had arrived to see the doj. I left through the private door and went down the spiral staircase.
Going to my usual spot in the boat launch, I knelt by the water and steadied myself, reaching out to the sea spirits. Some of the Cilean ships were joining together as they neared Veneto. I was surprised to
find they were little more than a day away, much closer than when I had first seen them. Time was always tricky with the spirits—the past and the present sometimes merged in odd ways.
"The doj wants to see you," a servant said behind me. They treated me with the utmost politeness despite having seen me in the most compromising positions.
I followed the servant up the back stairs to the doj’s chamber. The voices of the men in the anteroom were louder, as if he had sent them away to admit me.
"Well?" he demanded.
"The ships are much closer than I thought. Only a day’s sail from Veneto."
"I’ve just received word. My councilors believe the destruction of our perimeter fleet was the first phase in their plan to sack Veneto. The Cileans waited just long enough for us to let our guard down."
"The spirits say the Cileans know your ship deployments, " I told him. "That’s how they ambushed your perimeter fleet and avoided the notice of merchant shipping as they approached."
"Who told them?" he demanded.
"The house of Castropiero gives information to Cilean spies."
The doj straightened abruptly, putting it together as I had hoped. Nearly all of his councilors visited Castropiero, often arranging to meet there. Surely the great men talked as if the pleasure slaves were nothing. But the slaves could report what they heard to Renata and Tomaz, and if the masters were in sympathy with the Cileans, they would be able to divulge the inner workings of the city.
"That new man . . . Lexander," Silvo ventured.
"Renata has done away with him," I lied smoothly. "He discovered their association with the Cileans and intended to expose them."
Silvo shook his head. "Then it was Renata herself involved in this. Who is her contact?"
"That’s all they’ve shown me." I went to the window, watching the birds again. I want nothing, I chanted silently to myself. I imagined myself as a reed being swayed by flowing water, moving only at the behest of the spirits.
"But you must know more," Silvo said, expressing a rare frustration.
I took a few deep breaths, then said, "The loudest call I hear is from my belly."
I smiled at him, then quietly left the room. I had done it a dozen times before in just the same way.
The servants soon heard that the Cileans were bearing down on Veneto. I unobtrusively pilfered some food as their talk grew louder, anxious about their safety. When I left, a servant was right on my heels. Silvo must have given him special orders because he stayed very close, determined not to lose sight of me. But the olfs turned him around on a footbridge and he was heading back the way he came before he realized his mistake.
The lanes filled with people as news spread of the approaching Cilean fleet. I had to fight my way through city folk rushing to secure their homes and a flood of sailors who were suddenly called to duty.
When I reached the cellar, I crouched on the slimy bottom step in the doorway. It wasn’t long before the tramp of feet echoing down the cobbled lane grew louder and a dozen sentries appeared. They wore the doj’s colors, so I ducked inside the cellar to avoid being recognized.
Some of the sentries stood guard as the others climbed up the steps to the double doors of Castropiero. The gatekeeper had no choice but to let them in when they showed their orders from the doj. As they disappeared inside, I asked an olf to follow them.
There were plenty of olfs curious about the commotion and they eagerly bounced among the sentries. The frightened servants did as they were ordered and led the sentries directly to the masters’ chambers. Both were still asleep when they were routed from their beds.
The sentries took Renata and Tomaz into custody. With the Cileans coming, the doj would try to get information about the plan of attack from them.
The sentries placed Renata and Tomaz in a palanquin that had a bolt on the door. It infuriated Renata and confused Tomaz to be confined. Renata was nervously twisting the ends of her veil around her fingers, tearing the delicate tissue.
As soon as the sentries disappeared with the master and mistress of Castropiero, a young boy slipped out the side door and scurried down the lane. I could hear the raised voices as the other servants panicked. The streets were also getting louder as criers gave warning that the Cilean marauders were coming.
I marched across the courtyard to the kitchen door. I didn’t try the main door on the second level because the old doorkeeper was not likely to admit anyone until his master and mistress returned. But the kitchen was wide open. The cook had locked herself in the pantry when the sentries had arrived and was refusing the other servants’ entreaties to come out.
The demons who had taken root in Castropiero pricked at me, trying to frighten me away from their lair by showing me all the ways my plan could go awry— Renata talking her way out of custody, or the doj catching me in the act. But I didn’t hesitate.
I announced in a ringing voice, "Your master and mistress are traitors to Veneto! They have conspired with the Cilean fleet that now threatens our city. The doj has taken them prisoner and will punish them as they deserve. As he will punish anyone who assisted them in this terrible deed . . ."
I glared all around threateningly. The girls put their hands to their mouths, and one flung her apron over her head and burst into tears.
I strode through the inner door to the stairs to the next level. I knew exactly where to go to reach the slaves’ chamber despite the doubts laid by the evil spirits in my mind. At the top of a narrower flight of stairs was a door secured by a latch.
The scrape of the hook being lifted was loud. I wondered how many of the slaves listened for that sound in dread. Some must have been locked in this one dreary room for moons on end.
I flung the door open. A feeble light came through the cloudy white glass of the round window high in the wall. The slaves were rising up in their cots at the sound of my entry. Before I could say a word, they tumbled from their beds and knelt, gesig. A few swiped at their faces furtively, still bleary from sleep.
"Stand!" I declared. "I’ve taken Castropiero to set you free. Your master and mistress are traitors to Veneto and have been seized by the doj’s sentries. They won’t be returning to this house again."
In truth, Renata might indeed be able to convince the doj of her innocence, but I intended to be gone by then. Along with the slaves.
They stirred and glanced at one another, but they didn’t understand.
"I was a pleasure slave once, but I was set free." I lifted my arm, letting the cloak slide back to reveal my satin dress. It gleamed richly even in the dim light.
A wiry young man scrambled to his feet and approached me cautiously. He wore a brief tunic like the others, revealing his arms and legs. "You say our master and mistress are gone? They were arrested?"
This lad must be a kindred spirit to Bene. I pushed the door open to show them there was no servant or master lurking behind me. "Come see for yourself. You’ve longed to escape, and this is your chance."
"What about the servants?" the auburn-haired girl cried. "We’ll be punished."
The young man’s dark eyes burned with an eager light. "We shall see about that."
He started down the steps. I gestured urgently for the others to follow. "Come, it’s not safe to remain here. Stay together!"
They followed us down the stairs, clutching each other and stepping tentatively. The pregnant woman was among them, her distended belly pushing out her skimpy tunic. Her legs looked very thin by comparison. I noticed that the girl with auburn hair was hanging on the arm of the burliest slave, looking to him for protection.
The boy who reminded me of Bene led the way, avoiding the doorkeeper’s post and going down another flight of stairs to the side exit on the lowest level. It opened on the alleyway. He pushed the door wide and saw there was nothing preventing his escape. With a flashing grin at the other slaves, he ran off. His bare legs looked strong enough to carry him far.
"Take a cloak with you!" I called after him, but he was gon
e. I closed the door, hoping he would be all right in that tunic, without a coin in hand.
The others were shocked. "He can’t do that," one of them protested.
"You can do whatever you want. You don’t serve Renata and Tomaz anymore."
"What will happen to us?" the auburn-haired girl cried. Another whimpered, "Where will we go? How will we survive?"
"Take what you need from Castropiero," I told them. "There are clothes to wear and plenty of silver in the candlesticks and plate. Look for caskets holding coins and jewels."
Some of the slaves were scandalized, and I had to remember when I was in training in Vidaris, accustomed to doing exactly as I was told. "Go," I ordered. "Gather whatever you can find. Bring it back here, and you can leave with me. I’ll show you what to do."
"I can’t," the pregnant girl sniffled, tears running down her cheeks. "What if mistress returns? Or the servants?"
My heart ached for her. "There’s a cellar across the lane. You can wait there, if you’d like."
Most of the slaves had already run back upstairs to pilfer through Renata’s and Tomaz’s belongings. I could hear doors slamming all over the house. Some of the servants had undoubtedly had the same idea.
I showed the pregnant girl and her friend across the lane to the cellar. They were taken aback by the streams of people, and cries of "Cileans!" on everyone’s lips. Even the slaves’ scanty attire drew little attention.
I left them there and returned to the pleasure house. The slaves had dived into their pillaging with childlike delight. Some of the boys were wearing Tomaz’s fine clothing, the generous cut ballooning on their slender bodies. The girls had pulled out dozens of luxurious dresses in velvet and satin from Renata’s chests.
I returned just as the doorkeeper tried to stop them, appearing in a mighty wrath to drag the slaves from his master’s chamber. Still holding the candlesticks and jewel-covered cases they had found, they fell back in fear. Renata had rewarded the doorkeeper’s loyalty in hiding Castropiero’s many secrets by giving him the use of the slaves on regular occasions. The vile old man had terrorized them.