Lace and Blade 2

by Deborah J. Ross

  “But not for free.” Johnen leered. “We know how to get old Deverrin off your back, but it will cost you.”

  Oh, Lady. Orossy had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “I’m not interested.” A group of students blocked the door, curious to see how the conflict progressed.

  “We want to see if all those rumors are true. Were you really a rent girl?” Hannik asked.

  Orossy put the books in his satchel. “Yes.”

  The boys looked at each other and laughed. “Prove it.” Closing his eyes, Orossy counted to ten before he responded. “Not today.”

  “He won’t do it for free. I told you,” Johnen said.

  “I won’t do it at all.” Orossy clamped his jaws shut, determined not to say anything else. He walked to the door, but the crowd didn’t move.

  Hannik jabbed him in the arm. “Because you’re Feisal’s catamite. Is that it?”

  Until now, Orossy had ignored all of the jibes and remarks, because they were directed solely at him. But now they brought in Feisal...

  A man defended his lover’s honor. That much Orossy knew. He swiveled. “What did you say?”

  Hannik glared at him, seemingly surprised that he’d actually gotten a reaction. “You heard me. Think you’re better than the rest of us ’cause you’re fucking the Lord Governor’s son. You didn’t earn your place here.”

  “Privileged little bastard.” Orossy grabbed Hannik’s collar. “You have no right to talk about earning your place. No right at all.”

  A few wide-eyed youths gathered behind their friend. Hannik spoke for them all. “We know you came from Tavern Street. How many did you sleep with to get in here? Did you service that old harridan Rewenna too?”

  Rewenna was Feisal’s mentor and the director of the Infirmary.

  “Bastard.” Orossy drove the boy backwards through the crowd and shoved him against the stone wall. Several other apprentices shouted at Hannik to fight back. Orossy spoke over them. “Apologize.”

  “For what? You don’t belong here. Rent boy. Or should I say rent girl?” He snickered. “Even Deverrin isn’t sure. What do you really have under that uniform of yours?” He made a grabbing motion toward Orossy’s groin.

  Orossy ignored the whistles and catcalls coming from the others. “Tell me something,” Orossy said in his best rent girl voice. Rossa’s voice. It frightened him how quickly she came back. “Have you ever been to Tavern Street?”

  A glint of fear showed in the boy’s eyes. “No.”

  “Then you have no idea what a rent girl’s life is like. Let me give you a taste.” He clenched Hannik’s chin, turning the boy’s face slowly from side to side as if he were examining a stock animal to buy.

  Hannik tried to pry Orossy’s fingers apart. “Let me go. You can’t do this. It’s against the rules.”

  Orossy cracked his palm against Hannik’s cheek. The boy yelped. “Can’t do what? Give you lessons? Isn’t that what this place is for?” Orossy ground Hannik’s head against the rough stone wall, savoring the boy’s unease. “Never talk back to me. Keep your mouth shut or I’ll do it for you.”

  Hannik trembled. The rest of the students went suddenly quiet.

  “Do you know what you do when you go downstairs for the night?” Orossy continued to use Rossa’s voice. “You wander through the crowd, looking for a potential customer, while the crowd looks at you. Some of them feel you up, to see if you might be to their taste.” He demonstrated, caressing Hannik’s cheek. The boy jerked his head away, but Orossy had already moved on. He pawed at Hannik’s arms and chest, grabbing him bruisingly hard when he tried to get away.

  “They call out, ‘Come here, girl,’” he said, mimicking the rough voices of his customers. A little dennar, and Hannik felt the lewd and base emotions Orossy had sensed every night at the tavern. “‘Think you’re a tease, do you? I’ve got a few things in mind once we get upstairs.’ And you choose one.” Orossy kissed him on the lips, the barest hint of what the men would do later. “Even if he’s the worst one there, you have to choose him, which is no choice at all, really. It’s all about the money. No one cares about you. No one sees you as anything but a body to be used.”

  Truly frightened now, Hannik tried to shove Orossy away. Orossy caught the boy’s wrists and pinned them against the wall. “Do you know what happens if you disobey your tavernkeeper, or if one of your customers complains?”

  Hannik’s brown eyes widened in terror. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I’m sor—”

  Orossy kneed him square in the crotch. Hannik’s high-pitched wail echoed in the room. Satisfied, Orossy let his victim go. The boy sank to the stone floor, agony etched in his face. From the corner of his eye, Orossy saw Johnen race out of the room. The other students tripped over desks and chairs as they backed away in mute horror.

  “That’s not all.” With his booted foot, Orossy gave Hannik two swift, savage kicks to the ribs. When the boy moved his arms to protect his chest, Orossy knocked the wind out of him with a kick to the stomach. “Then, if he’s not too mad, he’ll leave you to see yourself out. If he’s still angry, he might take you to bed to teach you a lesson, and that, I assure you, is not a pleasant experience.”

  Hannik continued to struggle for air, curled up and rocking back and forth in agony with his hands cupped around the tender, abused area.

  Orossy forced Hannik onto his back and straddled him at the waist. He leaned over, propping himself up with his arms so he could look Hannik directly in the eye. “Let me ask you something else. Have you ever been hungry for a day, for a week? A month?” Hannik gave a tiny shake of his head. “Have you ever had to find food for yourself? Digging through icy water until your hands were numb and bleeding in the hopes that you’d find enough shellfish to make a decent meal?” Again came a shake of the head. “I was. I did, more times than I could count. I didn’t have a well-built home, like you do. No food, no warm clothes, not even ugly uniforms like these!”

  Fabric ripped as Orossy grabbed the laces on the front and yanked them apart. Hannik’s bare chest showed lived red and black splotches. “I never knew my mother. My father drank the money I earned from begging. When I got too old, he sold me to a stranger who told me he’d find me honest work. Instead, he took me to a tavern. The tavernkeeper thought me pretty enough to be a girl, so a girl I became. One man after another took me to his bed. Some were gentle enough. Some...” He choked, remembering. “You wanted to know what it’s like. I’ll show you!”

  Hannik screamed as Orossy used dennar to feed the boy exactly what he remembered: his first night at the tavern when Niklis had shown him exactly what he expected from a rent girl, the terror and pain and humiliation that created the hard, cold shell of Rossa, the slow numbing of all of his feelings so he could use her to survive.

  Orossy broke the mental contact. Hannik’s mouth hung open. “I had no hope of living past twenty, let alone an education or honest work. So don’t you dare presume anything about me! I’ve lived through more in my nineteen years than you will in a lifetime, privileged little brat that you are. Don’t you ever—” Orossy pulled Hannik up by the remains of his shirt and then slammed him down hard, “ever say I don’t belong here, or that I didn’t earn my place!” Another smack to the floor, and Hannik lay dazed and unmoving. Blood trickled from his nose.

  Without pity, Orossy rose and headed towards the gaping onlookers. This time, they stayed out of his way. One or two mumbled an apology.

  Rage-blind, Orossy didn’t see Healer Deverrin until they collided. The Healer’s voice was sharp. “Orossy!”

  The use of his name broke through Rossa’s hardness. Orossy stopped, disoriented. Fear and pain choked the room. He saw Hannik, really saw him, battered, bloody, and limp on the ground. He sensed the broken ribs, the concussion, the gathering bruises. Sickness filled Orossy’s mouth. He must have looked like that after one of Niklis’s beatings, and now...

  Now he was no better than the tavernkeeper.

  Deverrin grabbed his up
per arm and shook him fiercely. “What in the Lady’s name have you done?”

  The rough contact rekindled Orossy’s rage. He couldn’t stand being grabbed and yanked around. He yearned to give his teacher the same treatment as Hannik until some small part of his mind checked him. This was no helpless, naïve boy but a man, a Healer with status and power.

  Hannik’s moans saved Orossy from any further rashness. In disgust, Deverrin let Orossy go and crouched down beside his student. Deverrin’s eyes filled with fury as he used dennar to gauge Hannik’s injuries. He glared at Orossy. “Filthy gutter brat. The Healer’s council will hear about this. So will the Lord Governor. If I ever see you anywhere near this building again—”

  Orossy drew himself up to meet Deverrin’s angry gaze. The Healer looked away first. Orossy gathered his shredded dignity and walked out of the Infirmary.

  ~o0o~

  The Infirmary, located in one of the busiest districts of the populous city, was a fair distance away from the Lord Governor’s home. By the time Orossy plowed his way through crowds, rickshaws, and narrow, winding streets to reach the quieter Noble’s district, he was shaking badly. Guilt and shame replaced the surge of anger.

  Lady have mercy, what had he been thinking? Not only had he attacked a classmate, but he’d also defied his teacher, a senior Healer. And on the eve of the Lord Governor’s arrival! He’d ruined everything, all because he’d let his temper get the better of him.

  He paused at the long, cobbled driveway that led to the Lord Governor’s house. The building stood in the distance, with sloped, tiled roofs, well-kept gardens, and paneled doors that slid to enlarge various spaces or to let in more light. It was one of the oldest and largest houses in the city, and the finest. Orossy couldn’t fathom what made him think he deserved to live in a place like this. Maybe he shouldn’t bother going home at all.

  Except then he’d never see Feisal again, and he couldn’t bear that. The only way he would leave was if Feisal told him to. Resolutely, he headed up the path, steeling himself to meet whatever fate lay in store. Jussi met him at the door and, without saying a word, took Orossy’s books and led him into the kitchen where he deposited Orossy onto a short, three-legged stool. The steward draped a wet cloth over the back of Orossy’s neck. Orossy opened his mouth to explain, but Jussi gestured for him to stay silent. “Save your explanations for those who need them. I, for one, need your help with dinner.”

  He put a bowl of almonds and walnuts in front of Orossy along with a small paring knife. Grateful for the work, Orossy didn’t notice how late it had gotten until he sensed Feisal come home. The Healer’s fury hit him like the slap of a hand, filling him with a sudden, bright heat. Orossy took a few deep breaths to mentally center himself. It didn’t work.

  “He’s not angry at you,” Jussi told him. He poured two cups of tea and left just as Feisal walked in.

  “Want to tell me what happened?” Still in his dark blue uniform, Feisal seated himself at the table across from Orossy and picked up a cup.

  “What did they tell you?” Orossy asked, cautious. He slid the knife and nuts to the side.

  “Lots of different things. I want to hear your version.” Orossy watched steam from his cup twist into the air. “It’s my fault. I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have kicked him.”

  “I hear that wasn’t all you did,” Feisal said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not funny!” Orossy’s fist pounded the table hard enough that his cup of tea lost a few droplets over the side. “They wanted me to—” He broke off, too ashamed to say more. A whorl in the wood caught his attention.

  Feisal waited a few moments before prompting, “To what?”

  Heat flooded Orossy’s face when he managed to speak. “To service them.”

  “Ah.” Feisal took a long sip, his face thoughtful. “I assume you told them no?”

  “Of course I did! I’m not...” He mentally swore at himself for stumbling again. “I’m not a rent girl anymore. No one owns me, and I’m not your cat—cat—” This time, he couldn’t say it.

  Mercifully, Feisal didn’t prod him any further. “Good. That makes two things you’re not.”

  He wondered how Feisal could take this all so calmly. “I’m not a student anymore, either. There are plenty of things I’m not. I don’t know what I am.” Grudgingly, he picked up his cup of tea, now cool enough to drink without wincing.

  Feisal cocked his head and stared at Orossy. “Is this because my father is coming home tomorrow?”

  Orossy mumbled his answer into the tea. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “What are they going to do to me?”

  The Healer swirled tea around in his cup. “I don’t know. Rewenna is on your side, and there were plenty of witnesses that saw you provoked, but it’s going to take a while to sort out. Beating is one thing, forcing dennar is another, and it’s more serious. Instead of worrying about it, I’ll tell you what,” Feisal said with a mischievous grin. “Rewenna suggested rather strongly that I should take the day off tomorrow. I’ll take you to the market district. You can pick out new clothes for tomorrow night.”

  “I’m sorry,” Orossy said, suddenly guilty that Feisal had been forced to forego his duties.

  “For what? That my colleague instills the same ill manners in his students that he possesses? Don’t be an ass.”

  “Then I’d like to go.” They’d hardly spent any time together, with Feisal busy at the Infirmary and Orossy struggling to catch up in class.

  “Good,” Feisal said, and kissed him on the cheek. “One last day to enjoy ourselves before Father gets home.”

  ~o0o~

  Orossy had already known hundreds of ways to please a lover, but using dennar to do it was something new. Feisal had taught him, with infinite patience, how to use dennar to tease and cajole a body, how to bring a partner near climax and then to back off. Often, their sessions had lasted the entire night, leaving them bleary-eyed in the morning, but they were always gentle with each other, mindful that a Healer’s dennar could hurt as well as heal if they got too reckless.

  No so tonight. In the dim light of their room, Orossy clawed at Feisal’s skin, desperate for the contact. His dennar traveled through Feisal’s body, touching every part of him, memorizing him. Knowing that Rossa was still so close terrified him, intensifying the fear that he wasn’t good enough for Feisal.

  Feisal’s loose hair, well past his shoulders, slipped through Orossy’s fingers like silk. His skin was already warm and damp. Orossy sent his dennar to the pleasure points within Feisal’s body, coaxing them from inside while his hands and mouth sought them on the outside. He focused all his attention, all his effort on it, wanting only to please Feisal, to give him something he’d remember.

  “’Rossy.”

  Orossy heard his name, but he kept going. This had to be perfect.

  “’Rossy. Don’t. This isn’t the tavern. You don’t have to think like that any more.”

  Orossy opened his eyes to look down at his lover. Guilt stabbed through him. Feisal’s dennar for mind-reading was weak, but when they were intimate he could pick up thoughts and feelings. “I’m sorry. I wanted—”

  Two fingers pressed Orossy’s lips together. “I know. Let me.” The Healer brought Orossy’s face towards him for a kiss. Feisal’s hands were like magic; every touch tingled with dennar, warm and exciting. It was a trick Orossy hadn’t learned yet, and Feisal enjoyed taunting him with it. Dennar-laced fingers tickled his face and neck, to his chest, belly, and lower, until Orossy thought he might die from need.

  Feisal wouldn’t let him, of course. Here, he was safe. It was such a blessed relief to be in accord with someone, to trust. Not like the tavern, where Rossa had become more than his name.

  Feisal had seen behind that façade to the real Orossy. Making love hadn’t always been this easy or wonderful; it had taken time, and Feisal had been careful and understanding. The H
ealer loved him, he knew, but tonight Orossy had a desperate need for proof.

  His lover knew it, although the ease and sincerity with which Feisal made love to him hurt. I don’t deserve this, Orossy thought, but kept it sheltered from Feisal’s dennar. The Healer was so kind and gentle and earnest that Orossy couldn’t believe that he’d been lucky enough to find him. It wouldn’t last. Nothing this good ever could.

  “Yes, it can,” Feisal murmured in his ear. With the exquisite control he’d learned over the years, Feisal wrung every bit of stress and tension from Orossy’s body, leaving Orossy unable to think of anything besides what Feisal was doing to him. The Healer took his time, ensuring that Orossy was completely aroused before bringing him to a full, delicious climax.

  Afterwards, when they were both sated and spent, Feisal held him close. Even so, Orossy felt cold, as if a frigid wind blew against his bare skin. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember the boy he’d been, starved for love as well as food. “I’m not like that anymore. I’m not naïve. I’m not hungry.”

  “You’re not alone, either,” Feisal said with a squeeze. “I’m here, ‘Rossy. I’ll always be here for you. My father coming home won’t change anything.”

  Even with Feisal’s reassurance, the cold didn’t leave him.

  ~o0o~

  The next morning, Orossy fiddled with the silk jacket and pants, wondering why he found it suddenly difficult to secure the fastenings of a men’s jacket on himself when he’d had no trouble doing it on someone else.

  Feisal lounged on his bed, watching, and trying not to laugh. He was already dressed, his mauve shirt hanging rakishly open. “Are you sure that’s what you want to wear?”

  Orossy felt the heat rush to his cheeks. “I’m sure.”

  “You look miserable.”

  Done, finally, Orossy shook out the sleeves. “Your clothes are too big on me. That’s all.”

  “It’s not all, but...” Feisal came up behind him to adjust the shirt, running his hands over Orossy’s shoulders and arms. “If it’s what you want, then it’s fine with me.”