The Vestal's Steward

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The Vestal's Steward Page 5

by Ailx Nichols


  “Oh, but I am.” He stepped closer and grabbed her shoulders. “Haysi has no children, no husband, no family. She lives a dissolute life. No one would miss her. Well, maybe her friend Maggi would, but that’s all.”

  Unie shook her head. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Samurai Iyatt Martenn.”

  “I am,” he admitted.

  Tears welled in his eyes, blurring his vision. She was saying no as he’d known she would. If he was being honest, he’d counted on her to say no. Because if she’d said yes and done as he’d asked, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  “Let’s pretend this never happened, all right?” She stroked his jaw. “It was your grief talking, and I know you’re regretting those words already.”

  He’d been regretting them even before they were out.

  “There’s something I need to ask of you,” Unie said. “And I can’t run out of time again.”

  He wiped his eyes. “Anything, my love.”

  “I need your help. It’s about my brother.”

  Unie’s younger and only sibling, Derren, had always been a source of worry for her even though she rarely talked about it.

  A born bionic like Unie, Derren had dropped out of school and left the family home on Masela before his eighteenth birthday, pretexting wanderlust. Unie had tried to stay in touch, but Derren had made it hard for her. For the last five years she’d received updates about him through their father. And he’d never tell her much.

  “Is Derren in trouble?” Iyatt asked.

  “Neck-deep.” She let out a ragged sigh before speaking again. “You know how I loved the life I led, proud to be a LOR enforcer, never regretting the choices I’d made?”

  “You had every reason to be proud.”

  “Now you know that I do have regrets, and my biggest regret is Derren.”

  “He’s your brother, not your son,” Iyatt said. “He’s a grown man now. You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for his mistakes.”

  “He’s always been unruly, but never unkind. For the life of me, I never imagined he’d become…” She paused, chewing at her lip, a silent plea in her eyes.

  “What, Unie? What has he become?”

  She drew in a breath. “I ran into him four months ago, the day I died on Hente. Colonel Yaggar and I were exfiltrating two packages.” She broke off and rolled her eyes. “I may as well name them—”

  “Etana and Areg.”

  “Yes. Our mission was to get them out of Fort Crog, up to the shuttle waiting in the orbit, and then to the enforcer base.”

  “But Voqras’s hive cyborgs surrounded the fort.”

  “That’s correct. Some of them were inside, too. When our party ran down, one of them sprang in front of me. It was Derren.”

  Shit.

  “We didn’t recognize each other immediately, what with the helmets on… His blaster was at my temple, Iyatt, and he was pulling the trigger.”

  Iyatt’s breath caught in his throat. Was that how Unie got killed?

  “But then we looked into each other’s eyes,” she said, “and he knew. He lowered his gun. I knocked him out with the neck chop you taught me, and we kept going. I was killed shortly afterward but not by Derren.”

  Iyatt would’ve liked to learn more about how she died, about her last moments, but he sensed Unie didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted him to help her brother.

  “So Derren is a hive cyborg working for Voqras,” Iyatt recapped. “Is he on Hente now as part of the squadron hired by Boggond?”

  “I wish! That would’ve made it so much easier.” Unie skewed a feeble smile. “But I know where he is. His captain sent him to Norbal with three other hive cyborgs to train in knife throwing.”

  “With Hommendis? The same guy who coached Jancel?”

  “Yes.” She hesitated. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could take a couple days off and go there—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her lips. “Thank you.”

  “Just give me a day or two to get the cash for the flight.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” Unie said quickly. “Use my money. My pay was very good, and I saved most of it.”

  “It should go to your family.”

  “And it will—well, most of it. But I have a second account in the Ramoh Bank, which has a branch in Eia. I’ll write an authorization note and give you the password.”

  “It isn’t necessary,” he began. “I can afford—”

  “Iyatt, darling, can you suggest a better use for my savings than to try and rescue my brother from the ignominy of being a soldier of evil, an instrument of destruction and death?”

  It was hard to argue with that.

  Unie went to the table, grabbed a vellum and a pen from the drawer and wrote a letter of authorization for him.

  Planted behind her, Iyatt watched Haysi’s delicate fingers hold the pen and produce Unie’s neat handwriting.

  “It’s too much,” he said when he saw the amount.

  “I want you to give a thousand drinars to Haysi, toward her mortgage, and for everything she’s done for me.”

  He inclined his head.

  “The rest is for you,” Unie said. “Use it for your Rateh studio, donate more to your orphanage, give it to the Association… Whatever you do, it’ll be well spent.”

  She signed the note, folded it and handed it to him.

  “I’ll do all I can,” he said, dropping it into his pocket.

  “I know.”

  There was that sad look in her eyes, the same as yesterday before she said goodbye.

  Iyatt took her hand. “Will I see you again tomorrow?”

  “No, my darling, you won’t.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before withdrawing hers. “Two days in a row is a lot for poor Haysi. Especially today, when she gave me free rein. It was an act of great trust that I’d never be able to repay.”

  It was, indeed.

  And that bothered Iyatt.

  Haysi’s gesture went contrary to the idea he’d formed about her as a selfish, debauched, conniving person. It made her look like someone good. Someone who’d arranged for him to talk to Unie after he’d refused the favor she’d asked for. Someone who’d helped his fiancée before being offered payment.

  Someone he’d tried to get evicted from her own body.

  “One more thing,” Unie said. “If Haysi agrees, you must take her with you to Norbal.”

  He knit his brows together. “Absolutely not. She’d be a nuisance. And, if things go wrong, she’d be a burden.”

  “I’m asking you to travel with her because the success of your mission depends on it, my love. She’s a medium, remember? You’re talking to me through her right now.”

  Unfortunately, there was no denying that pesky little fact.

  “Haysi is my direct comm line to you and, once you find him, to Derren also. My only comm line.”

  He made an evasive hmm.

  “Don’t discuss it with her tonight,” Unie said. “She’d be too disoriented, too out of it when she regains consciousness.”

  “Understood.”

  “Ask to see her again tomorrow and tell her you’ll make an offer on my behalf.”

  He promised he would, and the next moment Unie was gone.

  Her face ashen, Haysi blinked at him in confusion. Then her eyelids drooped, and she slid off the chair.

  Scooping her up, he carried her to her bed. He checked her vitals and found they were normal. She wasn’t unconscious, just very fatigued.

  He took off her shoes, covered her with a blanket, and called Maggi in.

  “Can you keep an eye on her tonight?” Iyatt asked Haysi’s friend.

  As soon as Maggi agreed, Iyatt walked out the door.

  Seven

  When Haysi woke up, her room was flooded with light.

  The smell of baked goods wafting in from the shop across the street and the rag-and-bone woman’s bell outside her window told her L
anterns must have been up for at least an hour. The clock on the wall confirmed it was past nine.

  Panicking, she jumped from the bed and rushed to the bathroom to wash and change. Fifteen minutes later, she was downstairs, taking a cup of kawa from Maggi’s hands.

  “I heard the water in the bathroom,” Maggi said before pointing out the kawa pot on the counter, “so I thought I’d make a double one for you.”

  “Thanks! You could’ve gone for a triple.” Haysi glanced at Maggi’s appointments book. “What time’s the first client?”

  Maggi cocked his head. “At ten thirty. I would’ve woken you up if we had an early morning appointment.”

  “I know, sweetie,” Haysi touched his hand. “And thanks again for the kawa. It’s exactly what I needed this morning.”

  “Too much to drink last night?”

  “Just kawa.”

  Maggi feigned interest in his perfectly polished nails. “Your new lover, Samurai Iyatt… He’s hot. Did you two have fun last night?”

  For reasons she couldn’t quite understand, Haysi hadn’t told Maggi about her gift. Nor had she shared with him anything about Unie and Iyatt. One day she would. She couldn’t hide something huge like that from Maggi too long, anyway. But she wasn’t ready for it just yet.

  “He’s not my lover,” she said. “We discussed some business, that’s all.”

  “Ooof cooourse!” Maggi buffed his nails. “Silly me! It was business. That’s why you were so gooey when he left.”

  His giddy expression meant Haysi needed to brace for some good-natured ribbing.

  “What kind of business?” Maggi asked, his face a picture of innocent curiosity. “Does our valiant samurai want you to ink all his Rateh students with his special emblem, like a brand? Or does he want you to initiate them into belly dancing? Is that why he sat through the show the other day?”

  Haysi waved him off. “I’ll go check that everything is ready in the tattoo room. Will you make me another double—”

  Boots against the cobblestone, loud male voices, women’s heels clacking as they ran, and shrieks came from outside. Haysi ran out to see what was going on.

  A half dozen cops had come from an armored motor van and gathered around an officer. Two of the men grabbed Naughty, one of the oldest Lanterns harlots, and cuffed her. She tried to kick their shins and bite them as they dragged her toward their boss.

  “She’s on the list, Sergeant,” one of them said.

  The sergeant pulled out a commlet and looked at it. “Name?”

  What list? Haysi ran up to the group. “What list? What is this about?”

  “The Pox Bill!” Naughty cried out, making another hopeless attempt to break free. “They’re bagging all the girls they think have the pox. This will be the end of me, Haysi! Help me!”

  The damned Pox Bill! Passed a few months ago at Boggond’s initiative, the bill gave police officers the power to arrest harlots and force them to be checked. If the woman turned out to be infected, she would be locked up to stop the spread of the disease.

  Haysi turned to the sergeant, trying to sound as calm and composed as she could. “Has Naughty broken the law, Officer?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.” He sized Haysi up as if deciding if she was worth another second of his time.

  “Then why are you arresting her?”

  “We received a tip that she’s infected.” He shoved the supposedly illegal commlet into his pocket, pulled out a vellum roll, and held it up for Haysi. “Here, I have a list of three harlots, all suspected of having the disease.”

  “A healer vestal comes to Lanterns every week and checks the girls,” Haysi said. “Everyone was fine on her last visit.”

  He smirked. “Not according to my report, no.”

  “Then why don’t you come back with a healer and have the girls rechecked? Why take them away?”

  “And who are you to tell me how to do my job?” He took a step toward her, his hand on his club, stroking it. “What’s your name?”

  “Haysimina Lommen,” she said. “I’ve written to the high judge, and I’ve registered to speak at the next Assembly of Peers, representing the Lanterns Collective.”

  He looked her up and down. “You want to address the Assembly, huh? No less?”

  He tittered, shut his mouth, and then opened it again and laughed in earnest. His men followed his lead, holding their sides.

  “The whores’ collective!”

  “Addressing the Assembly!”

  “The end of the world is upon us!”

  Unfazed, Haysi jutted her chin up. “We’ll get that bill rescinded, mark my words. It’s so blatantly unfair. I can’t believe it was adopted in the first place!”

  By now a small crowd had gathered around Haysi with Maggi right behind her and Mother Vada a few feet away. They jeered and booed, taking courage in Haysi’s stance.

  “Haysi’s written to the high judge, to Lord Boggond, to government members and to every single nobleman in the realm,” Maggi said with pride. “Some of them responded.”

  The sergeant wiped his tears. “Did they, now?”

  “They wrote us, and they agree the Pox Bill is unjust,” Mother Vada said. “We’re not alone in this.”

  His smile slipping, the sergeant turned to the brothel owner. “You and your harlots, bawd, are responsible for giving the pox to honest, law-abiding citizens.”

  “No one forces them to come to Lanterns to buy sex,” Haysi said. “How’s that for law-abiding, honest citizens?”

  “Listen to me, Haysimina Lommen.” The sergeant glanced at his commlet and stuck it back in his pocket. “I suggest you get out of my way. Our files have you as a dancer, not a harlot, so I’m not interested in you. But if you keep meddling in what doesn’t concern you, I might change my mind.”

  Haysi put her hands on her hips. “Except it does concern me, sir. It’s my friends you’re taking away. And you aren’t taking them to a hospital to be treated. You’re taking them to a prison cell, where they’ll die in a matter of months.”

  He spread his arms with feigned regret. “The pox can’t be cured.”

  “It can with level-two tech.”

  “Who told you that?” He peered at her. “Anyway, level-two tech is illegal in Eia.”

  “Is it now?” she said, aping his earlier taunt. “Is that why you and your men came here in a motor vehicle? Is that why you have a commlet in your pocket?”

  “That’s it, I’m taking you into—” the sergeant began.

  “You don’t need to, sir!” Maggi covered Haysi’s mouth with his hand and spun her around, pressing her head into his shoulder. “She won’t say another word, sir. And she’s sorry if she caused any inconvenience, sir.”

  “Get her away from here,” the sergeant bit out.

  As Maggi pulled Haysi to the parlor, the sergeant threw her a you’ve-been-warned look, before turning to his men. “I want every single whore on that list cuffed and in the back of the van in thirty minutes.”

  “Have you lost your mind, taunting a cop like that?” Maggi glared at her once they were back inside.

  As her anger subsided, Haysi hung her head. “You’re right, it was unnecessary.”

  “Exactly! By getting yourself arrested, you’d ruin our best chance to get the bill repealed.”

  Haysi sank to the floor by the wall and took her head in her hands.

  “Haysi, darling.” Maggi’s voice was calmer now, soothing. “There was nothing you could do for Naughty today.” He released a heavy sigh. “And you must be realistic about your campaign.”

  She knew what he was trying to say. The campaign was as good as hopeless. A couple of dignitaries writing back to them with words of comfort meant nothing. They weren’t even Assembly members. The high judge hadn’t replied.

  The editor of the Iltaqa Gazette Achlins Ghaw had written back with an apology. While he had a lot of sympathy for the harlots’ plight, he had to choose his battles. Haysi couldn’t blame him. Even in Lanterns ever
yone knew Ghaw was Chief Ultek’s number one nemesis, and it was a miracle the reporter still had his newspaper and his freedom.

  But Haysi couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

  She owed it to the memory of her loving Ma, who’d spent every last drinar she’d made to give Haysi an education, a chance for a better future. She owed it to her friends and Ma’s friends at the brothel, whose lives had become so much harder under the new law.

  Since the Pox Bill enactment, five harlots had died alone in tiny, filthy prison cells.

  The girls who came back after the forced checkup, claiming they’d been found clean, often saw their old clients shun them as a precaution. Soon, they’d find themselves out of work and unable to pay the rent even in Lanterns. That meant joining the ranks of the homeless, losing their teeth and their dignity, and living a life that wasn’t much longer or better than if they’d had the pox.

  Something has to be done!

  But it seemed Haysi was the only person in the realm willing to fight that fight. Exhaling a frustrated sigh, she pulled herself up. She was heading to the back room when the doorbell rang.

  My ten-thirty client is early, she told herself, opening the door.

  On the doorstep stood Samurai Iyatt Martenn.

  There was no denying the man was easy on the eyes. Sunshine streaked his soft, floppy hair with gold. His virile, clean-shaven, dark-eyed looks stole the breath from Haysi’s lungs... until she remembered he was just another bigoted jerk.

  Cocking her head, Haysi stared at Iyatt.

  “Good morning, my dame,” he said stiffly.

  “Good morning.”

  “May I come in?”

  She stepped aside. “I have fifteen minutes before a client arrives.”

  Iyatt headed upstairs, saying hello to Maggi and declining his offer of kawa.

  “Business, my balls,” Maggi muttered as Haysi swept past him.

  Once in her room, Haysi closed the door and leveled her gaze with Iyatt’s. “I kept my word and let you lovebirds enjoy full privacy.”

  “I know.” He smiled. “And I’m grateful.”

  He had a guilty look on his face.

  Haysi thought she knew why. “Did you do more than talk with Unie last night?” She felt her muscles stiffen. “It’s my body, after all, and it would be nice to know—”

 

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