[Measure of Devotion 01.0] Measure of Devotion

by Caethes Faron

  “Yes, Master. Thank you again.”

  By this time, Jason had made it behind Kale and looked down to see his work. What he saw quite literally took his breath away.

  “I know it’s not very good.” Kale craned his neck to look back at Jason.

  “What are you talking about? Kale, this is phenomenal.” Before him was a perfect drawing of the library rotunda. Kale had recreated every detail, down to the stained glass windows that had been commissioned from one of the most famous artists in Perdana’s history. It was the first time Jason had seen Kale use color, and the result was stunning. Light drifted in through the stained glass windows and settled on bookshelves and tables. The colored light seemed to dance on the page. “I have never seen anything like it.”

  “You mean from a slave. I know you’ve been to art shows before, and there are plenty of pretty paintings at your school.”

  “Kale, I’m telling you, there are not many men who can draw like you, slave or free.” At times like this, Jason realized his pre-conceived notions about class were ludicrous. It was a crime to say that a slave was less of a person than a free man when he was capable of producing such art.

  “Thank you, Master.” Kale had begun to fidget and was now putting the drawing back on the table, face down. “Isn’t it time for dinner? Will you be eating in the dining room, or should I bring your meal up here?”

  Jason wanted to eat with him again, but it was easy to see that Kale was uncomfortable. This morning he had decided not to move too fast, but here he was spending all of his time with Kale. It might do Kale good to have some time on his own. “I’ll take my dinner up here. After you bring it up, you’re dismissed until nine o’clock.” The clear relief on Kale’s face was almost comical.

  After eating, Jason had planned to go back to studying. On his way from the table to his desk, though, the sight of Kale’s sketchbook distracted him. Normally, Kale took it with him when he left, but he had been so flustered by Jason’s praise that he hadn’t. It was a rare opportunity for Jason to look through his work.

  Seating himself on the sofa, Jason took some time to further admire the picture of the library. It was amazing. He flipped to the beginning of the book and looked at the drawings in order. There were drawings of individual knickknacks and pieces of furniture along with drawings from Kale’s imagination. Then there were the pictures of Jason. He tried to not let himself feel too flattered; after all, he was the only person available for Kale to sketch. Still, he couldn’t help hoping that the flattering way in which Kale captured him on paper was indicative of his feelings. Vain as it sounded, the portraits of himself were the ones Jason liked the most, not because they were of him, but because they captured his emotions so well. Looking at them made him feel something deep inside, rather than just being impressed by an accurate likeness.

  At precisely nine o’clock, Kale returned. Jason knew that he wanted to try to convince Kale to stay the night again, not to have sex, but just to talk and fall asleep together. Now that Jason was open with himself about his feelings for Kale, he feared letting him get away. It felt as if everything he had been looking for when he foolishly got involved with Eric was now before him, and he wanted to reach out and grab it before it disappeared. It was a silly thought; Kale was literally his, there was nowhere he could go.

  Once Jason was ready for bed and had gone over his schedule for the next day with Kale, he reached out to touch him. Kale looked with surprise at Jason’s hand resting lightly on his arm. It wasn’t a common occurrence for Jason to casually touch him. “I was wondering if you might stay the night again. Just to talk this time.”

  “Just talk?” Kale didn’t sound like he was looking for a promise, more like he was startled by the request.

  “Yes, just talk. And fall asleep with me. I enjoyed having you here last night. It’s nice to wake with someone in the morning.”

  Kale smiled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I wake you every morning, Master.”

  Jason groaned. “Don’t be coy, Kale, you know what I’m talking about. It was nice having you here this morning. And I’d really like to talk with you.”

  Kale looked as if he was considering his options. For a moment, Jason wanted to order him to stay. A few weeks ago, he would have. Now he was beginning to see that real strength was in having power and choosing not to abuse it. Still, it would be so nice to just say the words that would get him what he wanted. Except he wanted Kale, not an obedient slave. Kale was going to be a hard enough prize to win. Jason couldn’t go making it harder by sabotaging his own efforts.

  “Yes, I’ll stay the night, Master.”

  Jason couldn’t hold in the smile that seemed to bubble up from somewhere deep inside him. The only thing he thought could make him happier now was if Kale hadn’t used the word “master” at the end of that sentence.

  While Kale began to unbutton his shirt, Jason grabbed the sketchbook and plopped down on the bed. “I looked through your drawings after dinner. I hope you don’t mind.”

  Kale paused in taking off his shirt when he heard Jason speak and then went ahead and removed it. “No, I don’t mind, why should I? It’s your sketchbook, and they’re your drawings.”

  There was no bitterness in Kale’s voice, but Jason felt it anyway, because what he said was true. “Don’t be like that, Kale. You know I don’t think that way, don’t you?”

  Kale turned to him after folding his shirt and laying it over the arm of a chair. When he looked at Jason, he seemed to be pondering the question. “If you don’t think that way, why’d you look through it?”

  Jason felt his skin start to tingle as heat flooded his face. Curses, he was actually blushing. “I just wanted to see them. I like you, Kale, and your drawings are an important part of you. I wanted to feel like I knew you better.”

  “And do you?”

  How come Kale could always stay so calm? Jason envied him the levelheaded way he approached things. There was never anger or malice in his words. Condescension never colored his tone. Yet somehow, Jason often found himself feeling off balance around Kale. It made it easier to see Kale as a person—no owner should ever feel unbalanced around his own slave. “I think so.”

  “Hmph.” Kale moved toward the bed, but just before he climbed in, he looked up at Jason, as if for confirmation. Jason nodded his head and made room. Once Kale was situated, he turned to Jason with a face that clearly said, “I’m here, now what?”

  Picking up the sketchbook, Jason flipped to the picture of the library. “I just can’t get over how remarkable this is, Kale. The way you captured the light. And the detail! How did you remember it so well? I’ve been there dozens of times, and I couldn’t conjure up a picture this vivid.”

  “It’s not that I remember the particulars, I just remember the impression. From that impression, I can create my own details. Take that drawing with you the next time you go, and you’ll see that it is not a perfect representation, far from it. I find that people rarely remember specifics. They’re much more likely to remember the way they felt. That’s what I was trying to capture here.”

  “You did a great job. Why did you decide to use color on this one?”

  Kale shifted uncomfortably. Jason had noticed that Kale didn’t like it when the conversation lingered on him too long. “I don’t know. It just seemed appropriate. All the stained glass, it would have been a shame to do that in black and white. It just felt like it should be in color. All those books—some of the greatest words ever written are in that room—it would have been disrespectful not to draw them in color.”

  “I agree. It’s my favorite place on campus. I can easily lose myself in there for hours.”

  “Exactly. You’re there, but the books draw you in to whole other worlds. I mean, I know you study more serious things than the silly stories I read, but when you’re there, you can be anywhere. It fascinates me.”

  How had Jason ever thought that Kale was simpleminded? “Is that why you like reading books
about foreign lands? You’d like to see them?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. I know I’ll never see more than Perdana and Malar County. Perhaps a few other places in Arine. Now that I can read, though, it’s as if I can visit anyplace I like. Thank you for that. I would have never learned to read if you hadn’t taught me.” Kale met Jason’s eyes with sincerity before looking away.

  At that moment, Jason felt that teaching Kale to read was the single most important achievement of his life. “You’re welcome, Kale. It would have been a shame for you never to have learned.”

  The rest of the night, they talked about books and the places Kale wanted to see. Jason felt a growing sense of responsibility. If Kale were ever to see anything in his life, it would be because Jason allowed and facilitated it. After Kale had described the places in the book he was reading, Jason asked him a question. “If you were free, would you spend the rest of your life traveling the world?”

  Jason turned to look at Kale. They were side by side on their backs, and from this vantage point Jason could see from his profile that Kale frowned. “I don’t know. I’d like to see the world, see how other people live, but when it comes down to it, I’d want to have a place that I knew was home, a place I could come back to. In the end, I think I’m really a country boy at heart. Give me a nice patch of land to call my own, and I’d be as happy as could be.”

  “So if you were free, and money weren’t an issue, you’d still want a place back in Malar County?”

  “Yeah, it’s good land there. There’s something so alive about the country that you don’t find in the city. If I work it, develop it, build myself a sturdy home, I could be proud of that. It’d be mine.”

  “You and my father sound a lot alike.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I just never understood him, I’ve wanted to get out of there for as long as I can remember, and all he’s ever wanted is to stay put, preferably with me there, too.”

  “And I never understood why you had a problem with Malar County. What’s so wrong with it? It was good enough for your father to make a fortune.”

  “On the backs of slaves.”

  Kale met Jason’s eyes and lifted his brow. “Yes, Master, on the backs of slaves. There’s no need to lecture me about it. My back’s one of the ones you’re talking about.” He returned to staring at the ceiling.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t understand this affinity you have for it.”

  “There are plenty of common folk who have done well there on their own. There’s no reason I couldn’t too.”

  “But there’s no reason you couldn’t do well anywhere.”

  Kale turned his head slightly and flashed half a smile. “You’re just saying that because you’re hoping if you say it enough, I’ll be as smart a slave as you wanted.”

  “You are smart.”

  Kale shrugged. “So what is it you dislike so much about the county? Master.” The last was added as if to soften the forwardness of the question.

  “I always thought there should be more to life than fishing and hunting. There’s no culture, no real beauty. Everyone is content just being there. It seems like such a waste.”

  “Perhaps one day, I can show you the kind of beauty that’s in the country. It may be different than the art you see here, but it’s no less beautiful. And what’s wrong with contentment? How many people here are content? They run around, spending money by the barrel, and there’s not a content soul in the lot.”

  Jason rolled onto his side and studied Kale. “How’d you get to be so old?”

  Kale responded with a strong belly laugh. “Ah, I don’t know, kid. Maybe I’m cynical. Go on, chase your riches, your social scene, just remember to be content when you get what you want, Master.”

  “You know, calling me master doesn’t make what you say sound any more submissive.”

  “Only letting you know that I know my place. Just because you don’t have the good sense to tell me to shut up when I should doesn’t mean I don’t know that you could.”

  “I don’t think I could ever want you to shut up, Kale. I like your voice too much.”

  “Oh, so that’s what it is? You ignore my words to hear my voice, huh? No wonder you haven’t tanned me yet.”

  “No, I listen too. Things are different now, Kale. I’m not going to punish you for something you say. I want to hear you speak your mind. Tonight has been wonderful. You do know that things are different now, right?”

  Kale shifted onto his side and regarded Jason. It was unnerving how he always seemed to be looking into Jason’s soul and judging the truth of what he saw there. It felt good that Kale took the time to give his responses thought, that he gave honest answers instead of offering words he thought would be pleasing.

  Finally, he said, “Yeah, I know.” Then he yawned, stretching his arms above his head. “So you were serious when you said no fucking tonight. It must be nearly morning. Unless your plan was to get me all tired out and relaxed so I’d be more pliable.”

  Jason laughed. “No, just talking and sleeping tonight. I guess it’s time to move on to the sleeping part; thank goodness I don’t have to be up early.”

  “So it won’t be terribly disrespectful if I turn my back to you now and go to sleep?”

  “No, not at all.” Kale shifted onto his side with his back facing Jason. “Kale? Do you mind if I cuddle?”

  Kale glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

  Jason felt that confounded blush again. He felt stupid asking, but what could he do about it now? “I just like feeling you next to me.”

  “It’s not like you need my permission.”

  “I know I don’t need it; I want it.”

  Kale shrugged and began to roll back over. “Sure, cuddle away.”

  Jason curled up next to Kale so that they were spooning. With his arm around Kale’s chest, he felt content with what he had for the first time in his life.

  Eighteen

  That was the first of many nights Kale spent talking in Jason’s bed. Even though Kale thought it was ridiculous that Jason liked to act as if they were lovers, it was nice being able to sleep in his bed. It was far more comfortable than Kale’s own bed in the basement, and he didn’t feel like he had anything to talk about with the other slaves anymore. He even grew accustomed to Jason’s snoring. Sometimes they would have sex, others they would just lie together until sleep overcame them, and still others they would talk until the first rays of sunlight peeked through the crack in the drapes.

  It was nights like those that worried Kale. Sex was one thing, cuddling up together like they were lovers falling asleep in each other’s arms was tolerable, but staying up all night talking? That was an entirely different matter. The intimacy was disconcerting.

  The second time they had sex, Kale was sprawled on his stomach afterward when Jason propped himself up on an elbow and began running his hand up and down his back. The sensation was nice, but Kale had always been the type to sleep after sex, and any display of interest or—gods forbid—love afterward was unwelcome and awkward.

  “What are these scars here?” Kale had been almost asleep, enjoying the feel of Jason’s hand on his back, when Jason’s question pulled him back to wakefulness.

  “What do you think?” He was in no mood to have this discussion. If Jason was going to insist that he stay awake, couldn’t he insist on a conversation that wasn’t so damn awkward?

  “I’ve never seen them before.”

  “You’ve never looked hard enough. They’re old, ancient by now. They’re mostly from the Cartwright’s.”

  “What happened?”

  “James Cartwright isn’t known for his restraint with the whip. I’m mouthy, you know that. And anytime Carter got in trouble, it was me who was punished. Said I was a bad influence. Besides, he didn’t need a reason. Wanting to was good enough.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Could have been worse.” Kale moved onto his back, hoping that if it wasn’t
in view the conversation would stop, and put his arm over his eyes to block the light. All he really wanted was to go to sleep.

  “That’s all you have to say? It could have been worse?”

  “I’m tired, Master, please.”

  “How can you be so cavalier about it?”

  “What?” Kale’s brain was too foggy with sleep to try to figure out the meaning of unfamiliar words.

  “You act like it’s nothing.”

  Kale removed his arm from his eyes. This was going to be one of those times when Jason decided to get righteously indignant in the way of the truly young and naïve. Kale took in a deep breath, summoning the strength to stay awake and talk. He sat up. “What do you want me to say? That it was unfair? That it hurt like hell? Do you want details, like how much blood there was? I can tell you all that. And then, afterward, I’ll still have the scars, and you’ll know things you’d rather not. It won’t make anything better. Or, we can go to sleep, and when I wake up I won’t be so damn tired that I talk to my master so disrespectfully that, if you were James Cartwright, I’d be getting a beating that would make these scars look like a slap on the hand.”

  “You know you can be honest with me, Kale. If you’d rather not talk about it, that’s fine. But it’s time you realized I care about you, and what James Cartwright did wasn’t right. I know you’ve been through things that I can’t imagine, but if you lived through them, then I can at least hear about them. I’m not a child.”

  The earnestness in Jason’s expression softened Kale. “I know you’re not a child, Master. I’d just rather not talk about it.”

  “All right, then. Let’s go to sleep.”

  Jason turned off the lamp, and they fell asleep in what was becoming their usual position, with Jason’s arm over his chest, holding onto Kale like he was claiming him.

  A few days later, tired of being cooped up in the house, they went to the park. The day was beautiful with the cool breeze curtailing the heat of the sun. The only thing Kale missed about his old life was being outside. There was something invigorating about it: the sun heating his skin, the slightest of breezes cooling his sweat, and that smell that let him know all around him the earth was alive.