Sold To The Master

by Hollie Hutchins

  A short man opens the door. “I need you to take a message to Darla,” Sidney says. “Tell her to prepare the spare servant’s bedroom for Lauren tonight. Tell her it’s important she heats the room. Lauren will need to be warm.”

  The man looks at me, sitting on the chair, the glass of whiskey in my hand, and then back to Sidney. He’s clearly never had such an instruction before, nor seen a servant conversing freely with the Master, an alcoholic drink in her hand.

  “Did you not hear me?” Sidney asks.

  “Yes sir, sorry sir.” The man inclines his head several times as he disappears out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “Anything else you need?” Sidney turns his attention back to me.

  I shake my head. “That will be sufficient.”

  “Good.”

  I take a sip of the whiskey, relishing the burn down the back of my throat. That feels like a win, if ever I’ve had one. I wonder how I can keep this up.

  “You’d better stay for a while,” he says. “If I send you back early again, they’ll be wondering why I don’t just send you away. And I can’t bear to deal with any of those fawning desperate women tonight.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Those women are fawning and desperate because you have made them that way.”

  “What?” My comment has earned yet another glare, and yet somehow I feel slightly safer in my position tonight. He won’t throw me out until he’s got what he wants, and that could still take a few weeks. I’m safe until then. “How have I made them that way?”

  “You’ve promised women freedom, if they can birth you a clutch of children. Of course they’re desperate. They’ve never been offered freedom before, by anyone. If they had their way you’d never be off that bed, just one woman after another until you impregnated them all.”

  He looks away. “As if anyone with any brain would sell their bodies so desperately for some distant vague possibility of freedom.”

  I frown. “You’ve never been a slave, have you? Never been sold from master to master, beaten because you didn’t perform as they expected you to, without ever having been given detail as to what that expected behaviour was. You have all the power in the world, and you think everyone else’s lives are the same.”

  His gaze catches mine. “I don’t think our lives are the same. I know they are different. But you women, you aren’t the ones who are the slaves here. You are fed, and clothed, you don’t have to think about a thing, every need is taken care of. You don’t have to bow from pressure from your father or brothers, to fuck a different woman in the hope you’ll produce heirs, so that your place in this world is guaranteed. In fact, none of you have ever had to fight to maintain your place in this world. All you have to do is open your legs now and again. Your place is given, easy. It can never be taken away.”

  My mouth drops open. I’m absolutely gobsmacked. Is he saying that his life is harder than ours? He is. How can he possibly believe that his life is harder than ours?

  He seems to read my mind. “You have freedom,” he insists. “You have all day to do as you like, and all evening too, if you’re not chosen to join me.”

  I shake my head. “Here, we have that freedom. But this is the only place I’ve ever experienced it. Not all men are desperate for heirs. Most men just want someone to work for them, and then be their plaything at the end of the day. What about your other servants? The cooks, and the cleaners and the groundskeepers. Do they have a day of luxury to themselves? When do they get to stop, and decide what to do with their lives?”

  Sidney waves a hand, as though to dismiss my comments. “What would they do if they were free? They’d still have to work regardless. Food doesn’t fall free from the sky.”

  “Yes.” I nod. “They would have to work. But it would be work of their own choosing. And at the end of the day, when the work was done, they could choose how to spend their evenings. They could go out at night, instead of being stuck with a curfew, or visit friends, or family. Hell, they could live with family, all together, in the same house.”

  Sidney looks at me, and I can see, not only from his eyes, but from the swirling colours of his energy, that my comments have confused him.

  “Why would they want to visit family?”

  I think back to my own family. My parents and siblings, who I haven’t seen in years, and my heart almost breaks in two. “Because family are always there for you, whenever you need them. They are a support, and a foundation, they give you love when no one else does, when the world seems a lonely horrid place.” I realise my eyes are watering and I blink away the tears.

  Sidney is watching me, his face softer now, and I see something else in his eyes, a strange sort of longing. He looks so vulnerable, all my inner maternal side wants to do is reach out and pull him into an embrace, and let him know everything is going to be alright. I dismiss that thought, quick smart.

  “It seems to me like you’ve always had more than I’ve had then,” he says with a whisper. “For I’ve never known family to be a place of support, or comfort, or love. For me, family is a place of competition, of who is best, and who can be best, of who is most deserving of our father’s love.”

  I sigh. He’s not going to understand, is he?

  I stand, but he grips my arm.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Surely it’s been long enough?” I say.

  He shakes his head, letting go of my arm. “My brothers have spies. I’m certain. They watch my rooms. If they see you leave already, they’ll wonder what’s going on. You have to stay longer.”

  A question burns on my tongue. I don’t want to ask it, but I find I can’t help myself.

  “Do you spend this long making love to each woman?”

  “Ha.” He snorts. “Making love. That’s an amusing term. We are making babies, in case you’ve forgotten, which never needs to involve love, and it never takes this long.”

  “So what do you do?”

  “When I’m spent she lays there, while I catch up on some reading. Nancy likes to give me massages. Normally I don’t like the women to touch me, but she has skill in that area, nice soft hands, and a firm knowing touch, so I let her go. She thinks she has me wound around her little finger.” He snorts, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of sorrow for Nancy. She’s horrid, but only because our circumstances make it that way. She doesn’t deserve to be fooled any more than the rest of us.

  Sidney continues. “When I’m ready to go again I try to impregnate her again. I try three times each night, for all the good it’ll ever do.”

  His face drops.

  “Do you do anything to please her?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “I’m putting my seed into her to make a baby, not to please her.”

  I force my expression to stay neutral.

  “So you’ve never taken the time to please the woman you’re sleeping with?”

  He shrugs, moves to pour himself another glass of whiskey. “I used to, in the beginning. Didn’t help any though, did it? I got tired of it after a while, all that effort for nothing.”

  “But you know, women are more likely to fall pregnant if they orgasm after you’ve spilled your seed. If you can please her, that will increase your chances a hundred-fold.”

  He turns to look at me again, that guarded, uncertain look, as though he’s not sure if I’m telling the truth, or trying to trick him.

  “We provide warm, comfortable rooms for all the women, and ensure they have healthy diets, that their bodies are as healthy as they can be. What more could you need to make a baby?”

  I hold my hands up as though in surrender. “I promise I’m not fooling you. Once I’ve done this spell, and you’re fertile again, if you can develop some sort of closeness with the woman, make her feel good, especially if you can bring her to orgasm, that will help her to fall pregnant. Stress is no good for making babies. The energies all swirl around each other, clashing together. It doesn’t make it impossible, of course. If it’s a woman’s fe
rtile time she’ll fall pregnant regardless, but it doesn’t help either.” I pause. “Just something to keep in mind, afterwards, once we’ve fixed you up.”

  He nods, and when he looks at me again I see a touch of relief in his eyes.

  “Thank you,” he says. “For not ridiculing me, or telling the others your suspicions. If my brothers knew—” He shakes his head. “If I can’t produce an heir for my father, then I’m disinherited from the will. Whoever is the first to reproduce will be the one to receive the bulk of the property, with shares taken away from the other brothers to give to that brother. And those shares will only be returned if the other brothers can also produce an heir. If it’s found that I am infertile, then I would loose everything.”

  I move to sit by him on the bed, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

  “Perhaps you are not the only brother who is infertile,” I say, thinking of Darla’s comment. “I can see these things in people’s energies. If I could meet your brothers, I could tell you if they suffer the same issues.”

  He glances at me, and frowns. “Why?”

  I shrug. “Wouldn’t that make you feel better, to learn that you don’t have to rush this. If they are infertile as you are, then there is no risk of you losing anything, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. Wouldn’t that make life easier, if you didn’t have that weight, that fear, hanging around your shoulders?”

  Sidney glances at me, and I think I see a glimmer of respect in his eyes.

  “That would make things easier,” he says, nodding his head slowly. “You are very wise in the ways of this world.”

  I shrug. “I’m a witch. It’s given me a much deeper experience of the human condition than I would have ever liked, if I’m completely honest. But I can’t not use that information to help people. It’s the only power left to me.”

  His gaze crosses the room to a small locked box on his bedside table, and his face flushes.

  Is that where my contract is? Or does he feel guilty about something else?

  “Yes, well.” He clears his throat. “That is probably long enough for one night,” he says, standing, and moving back to the table with the alcohol. He doesn’t pour another drink though, but instead turns, as though keeping distance between us.

  “You are free to go. Your room will probably be warmed up by now, and you can enjoy your dinner, and spend the night divining what my sacrifice is to be.”

  I nod, and turn to leave, but when I reach for the door handle he speaks again.

  “Will it be fair?”

  I turn and catch his gaze. “Fair? The sacrifice, you mean?”

  He nods.

  I shrug. “It will be fair, from the universe’s point of view. Whether you think it’s fair is another thing altogether.”

  “So I should be prepared for the worst?”

  I sigh. Sometimes I wish I did not have to have these conversations, that I could pretend life was all light and joy and getting your own way all the time. If I lost my power all together, I would never, ever miss these conversations.

  “That will probably make it easier for you, in the long run.”

  He nods, and I leave, striding back to my quarters in the darkness.

  Chapter 5

  When I return, the women are in an uproar.

  “What did you do to him?” Nancy is waiting for me, and she’s up in my face before I’ve even closed the door behind me. She’s still dressed up in all her finery, where everyone else has washed off their makeup and changed for bed, and it occurs to me that she was hoping I’d be rejected again, and she’d be summoned instead.

  “Are you a witch?” I keep my face blank as she eyes me up and down, as though doing so will confirm her suspicions. “You must be! He’s never spent so long with any one of us before, and yet long before you return he sends a servant to make you up your own special room.” She turns to the others.

  “She’s a witch!” She announces. “It’s the only thing that explains why she has not been selected all this time, and now all of a sudden has her own room.” The women gathered behind her eye me suspiciously. Alice is watching me through narrowed eyes. Jane is frowning, but she looks scared.

  When Nancy turns back to me her eyes are narrowed. “Do you know what they do to witches?” She almost spits the words in my face. “They burn them.”

  The others are gathering around now, some with eyes wide with fear, others hanging back, less certain.

  “I’ll tell the master when I see him next, and we’ll have a public burning, here, on the grounds. As his favourite, I have his ear you know.”

  I can’t help but snigger. I instantly feel bad about it, as all the doubts Nancy has ever had spiral to the surface, her energy a huge ball of fear and uncertainty.

  “Witch!” she calls, turning to the women behind her for support.

  “Witch, witch, witch!” Alice has joined in the chant, Jane is holding back.

  “Burn the witch!”

  Other’s begin to take up the call, and it takes every ounce of energy I have not to show them the fear I feel at those words, and the memories those words bring up.

  “Enough.” Darla’s voice echoes across the room, bringing with it an instant silence.

  “I have never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life. As if a witch would be here, as a servant, trying to earn her freedom by producing the master’s heirs. Really. That’s foolish talk if ever I’ve heard it.”

  Everyone’s gaze drops to the floor, faces reddening. Even Nancy looks chastised.

  “It’s not unknown for Master Sidney to reward a favourite. Not common, true, but not unknown either. Clearly Lauren has managed to impress the master somehow. You all might like to learn from her, and perhaps you will be rewarded, too.”

  A few women glance at me, Jane among them, a spark of hope in their eyes, and I wonder what the consequences of Darla’s words will be. Will I have to fight off these women now? Will they all want a piece of me, all want some of the secret knowledge I apparently have?

  I hope not.

  Nancy watches me with distrust, as Darla claps her hands. “Now to bed, all of you. Lauren has supper to eat, and then she needs her sleep as well. She might be wanted tomorrow night, too.”

  The women file off, and Darla returns to the kitchen.

  Nancy glares at me. “Maybe no one else can see it, but I know a witch when I see one,” she mutters. “You might be the Master’s favourite now, but he’ll have to have another turn with me soon, and then I’ll tell him the truth about you. There’ll be no escaping the stake then.”

  I shake my head at her. “Sidney doesn’t believe in magic,” I say. “He thinks it’s all superstitious nonsense, and that burning healthy women of child-bearing age is foolish. You can tell him what you like, even if your accusations were true, he won’t be burning anyone at any stake.”

  I push past her to the kitchen, my stomach grumbling from spending so much time with the Master. I’m light headed, too, from the alcohol, and all I want to do is lie down and sleep.

  Once I’ve had a moment’s quiet to divine the cost of the spell Sidney wants, that is.

  Darla brings me a bowl of steaming stew, with a bread roll to mop of all the juices.

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt so ravenous in all my life, hungry, yes, from the small meals offered to servants, but never quite so starving.

  I must be getting used to being fed well, I don’t think I’ve been so long without food since I’ve been here.

  “Tonight went well, then?” Darla asks, taking a seat opposite me, her cup of tea in her hand.

  I nod. “As well as can be expected.”

  She pauses. “You know, I told a small white lie to the women, earlier. I told them it wasn’t unknown for Sidney to reward a favourite.” She holds my gaze. “Sidney has never rewarded anyone, for anything. The only indication we’ve ever had of favourites are the three women he’s kept back, after dismissing all the others.”

  I
take another mouthful of food, and chew. I can’t talk about the spell before it’s done. Already I can feel the energies swirling inside me, the power building for this particular task. All that’s needed is Sidney’s confirmation that he’ll pay the price, and really, he would never even need to know what the price was to say ‘yes’ and set it all in motion.

  But if I talk about what’s wanted, then the energy that’s building will dissipate, the spell will falter, maybe even fail.

  I know Darla wants me to confide in her, but I can’t, not yet. Maybe not ever.

  She watches me for a moment, and then nods.

  “You’re a good person, Lauren,” she says. “You don’t break confidences, or gossip like the other women do. I hope he gives you your freedom, for whatever it is you’re doing for him.”

  “Thanks, Darla.” I offer her a weak smile. “I’m fairly certain my freedom isn’t coming anytime soon, but I can always hope.”

  My new room is cosy. Just large enough for two beds, with a single bedside table between them, and a chest at the end of each. It feels safer, somehow, than the room full of women.

  I laugh at the absurdity of that thought. Of course it’s safer – I’m alone, not surrounded by women who all feel some degree of animosity towards me.

  There’s a lamp flickering softly on the bedside table, and it gives the room a warm glow. One bed has been made, the other simply a bare mattress, and I’m ever so grateful for the fresh sheets, warm blankets, and the nice soft pillow.

  I sit down on the unmade bed. I’m tired, and getting too comfortable will surely send me to sleep, instead of giving me the vision of what I need to know.

  Though ‘vision’ is not exactly the right word. It’s more a sense, a sudden knowledge. There are no voices whispering secrets to me, not exactly, anyway, no pictures that dance before my eyelids, just a certainty.

  I slide myself back so I’m sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, back straight. I close my eyes, and suck in a deep breath through my nose, hold it for a moment, and then let it out, focusing on the slight dizziness I feel as I do so. I repeat the breaths again, and again, and again, until the dizziness spreads and I can feel my mind expanding.