A Pound of Flesh

by Susan Wright

  The innkeeper shuffled his feet, pulling at his beard as if he wanted to refuse. But the peregrine was of our own band, and he was agreeable.

  Bene protested. "I can’t let you sleep on the floor while I have a bed."

  "Better here than the barn."

  He glanced at the strangers seated at the table. "It won’t be safe for you alone. I’ll stay down here with you."

  The innkeeper turned away to show the peregrine upstairs, but the two couples lingered, listening to us argue. Bene’s advances were becoming maddeningly insistent as I kept rebuffing him. He touched me in intimate ways and gazed at me longingly for all to see. Perhaps he thought he could wear me down until I finally ended up rutting with him.

  From the kitchen door, the young woman called out, "You can share my bed, if you like, miss."

  "Many thanks," I agreed quickly, so Bene couldn’t protest. The girl smiled and went back into the kitchen. I thought at first that she was a servant, but her resemblance to the innkeeper’s wife was too marked for her to be anything other than a daughter.

  Bene was sulky as we sat down to eat the good, thick porridge. There was honey to pour on it, and the peregrini praised Kristna for the bounty. I was happy that several olfs made the inn their home, and they were elbow deep in every pot as well as rifling through the bags of the new arrivals. I hid my grin behind my hand, trying to not let anyone see my amusement. Silently I told the olfs that I had missed them exceedingly.

  Fasia, the innkeeper’s daughter, was grown enough to be wed. She kept filling our bowls when her father wasn’t looking. The innkeeper and his wife were comfortable people who wanted for nothing in this mountaintop village, but he grumbled about the food we ate without paying. The bride’s husband finally quieted him by giving him another farthing, calling it alms for the poor.

  Bene touched me a few times during dinner as he was wont to do. He had been trained in the arts of allurement and he did it well. With a look or a brush of his fingertips, I could feel my flesh igniting. But he was not pursuing me out of desire. Lust, I could have countenanced.

  His attentions escalated when he noticed that the innkeeper’s daughter kept smiling at me. Fasia had round red cheeks and merry eyes. She was a sturdy girl, but I could see from her mother how she would grow plumper as she aged. Her blond braids were tied up in a kerchief.

  Perhaps Fasia was simply reacting to my interest in her. I could not help myself. I felt all misty-eyed seeing a pretty blond girl again; she reminded me of home.

  Bene was growing more upset by the moment, but I ignored him. Perhaps he didn’t realize what he was doing, but I was tired of his manipulations. Perhaps Bene needed to be confronted by his own limitations.

  So I smiled at Fasia in that secret way, and was pleased when she responded. Along with extra food, she heated water in the kitchen and carried it to her room so I could wash in the generous basin. Bene glared after us, but I simply bid him a good night.

  I truly felt blessed to climb the stairs into the small nook next to the chimney, hidden behind a wooden door. The rising heat kept the room very warm. I was able to strip off my tunic and leggings for the first time since I had joined the peregrini. My body looked different—lean and hard from the constant effort of walking and climbing with barely enough food to sustain me. I scrubbed everywhere, removing layers of dirt.

  I climbed naked into the bed, which was mercifully clean without a hint of a bug. I dozed off before Fasia finally came to bed.

  She undressed and slid in beside me, smelling of warm flour and wood smoke. I was curled on my side facing her, so she matter-of-factly snuggled her back to me. I put my arm over her, and she moved even closer as if relaxing.

  With such a wonderful armful of woman, I couldn’t fall back to sleep. I pushed my hips into her slightly, feeling her rounded buttocks against my thighs.

  If she was unwilling, she could have easily pulled away and I would have let her alone. But after a moment, she gently leaned back into me. Her hand took mine and placed it on her rounded belly.

  I let out my breath in anticipation as I stroked the full curve of her hip. Her waist was smaller than I had expected, hidden under the bulky apron that fell straight to her knees. I squeezed her magnificent, plump breasts, rubbing her rosy nipples. She was pink and white, clean and hale. I couldn’t believe this ripe woman had not yet been claimed by some man. It must have been by her choice that she was unwed.

  She hissed and moaned, squirming under my hands. I held her close to me, stroking her rounded cheeks and strong thighs.

  Fasia let me push her onto her back. Likely she had bedded plenty of girls who had passed through the inn, but she was not aggressive about her pleasure. I kissed her red lips, feeling her move beneath me. She was like a pliable doll that I could do with as I wanted.

  My fingers eagerly excited her, rubbing as I watched her every reaction, and slipping inside to test her response. Then I did as Alga had taught me, rhythmically bumping her crotch with my thigh. She writhed with abandon, pressing the blanket into her mouth so no one would hear her. Bene would surely try to listen to us. But I didn’t care even if the peregrini were offended.

  In bringing Fasia to climax, I also peaked. I had been without pleasure for so long, resisting Bene’s deft advances, that I almost screamed out loud. I had to bury my face in her mass of hair to stifle myself.

  I collapsed on top of her, both of us glowing. We cuddled back together and drifted off to sleep.

  15

  When the blizzard kept us stranded at the inn for several days, Bene grew increasingly upset when each night I went to bed with Fasia and enjoyed her statuesque beauty. She was exactly the kind of girl that Lexander had once searched for—eager to enjoy herself and passive enough to be trained. But the thought of gentle Fasia being tormented by Helanas was unbearable.

  It made me wonder if we had walked past other pleasure houses, leaving other slaves to suffer when I could have freed them. I whispered to Fasia one night after we were satiated, "Don’t let yourself be taken away from here, my darling girl. There are those who would make you a slave and ruin your life."

  She passed it off, assuring me, "I’ll never leave my mother. Men have asked, but I always refuse."

  "Let no woman take you away either," I warned, remembering Drucelli’s charms.

  Fasia giggled. "Man or woman, I could never leave Mama."

  So other than Bene’s barbed remarks about my enjoyment of Fasia, I enjoyed the enforced rest. I ate the abundant food and lay in front of the fire, soaking up the heat. I even washed my clothing and wore one of Fasia’s dresses while the ugly maroon and gray tunic hung in the kitchen to dry.

  Fasia was discreet when we weren’t in her nook. Her parents didn’t notice her preference, but Bene saw every glance we exchanged. He caught me alone by the privy and insisted, "If you can rut with that girl, then why not me?"

  "Because you want something I can’t give you," I retorted.

  "I want you." He saw my doubt. "I do."

  "You don’t know what you want," I said kindly.

  His hands clenched in anger. "What if I decided to stay here instead of leaving with you?"

  I almost laughed. "It’s a very nice place. I would make sure you were settled in and then I’d go on to Veneto."

  "How could you leave me behind?" His dark eyes were accusing. "I would never leave you, not unless you told me to."

  With a pang, I thought of Lexander. I quickly shook my head. "You are free to go anywhere I do, Bene. I’d much rather be together than have you struggle alone."

  Bene rubbed his hands through his curly hair until it stood on end, frustrated and confused.

  When we finally left the inn and I bid Fasia a fond farewell, Bene stayed far away from me, walking among the clerics. He took to leaving the peregrini whenever we reached a village, ducking down a side lane or taking an opposite turn when we passed through a market. I never said a word about it.

  Once I saw him charming t
he matronly peregrine into giving him a fat sausage from the link she had purchased. She responded quite naturally to his flattery. I thought it was well that Bene used his skills to get what he needed. But he didn’t have to do that with me.

  Then one evening in a tiny village clinging to a barren, snow-swept cleft, Bene didn’t return from his wanderings. I went searching for him in the fading light. There wasn’t much beyond a few buildings, and I couldn’t find him.

  My heart was in my throat, fearing something terrible had happened to him. During the night, I lay awake in the hospice, imagining him hurt in a ditch or dying in the cold. I was afraid I had made a mistake in bringing him on the peregrini path in the dead of winter. I knew Lexander felt responsible for me in the same way.

  Bene still hadn’t returned by morning. The peregrini departed, fearing the weather would close in again before they crossed the next pass. The two couples were genuinely concerned about me and Bene, but they left anyway, claiming they couldn’t lose the protection of the band.

  Once the peregrini started off, olfs began to appear around me. They didn’t mind the sanctuary hospice as long as the Kristna followers were gone.

  Bene returned to the hospice that evening, defiant but watching me too closely, betraying his trepidation. He expected me to be angry with him.

  It was an immense relief, and it made me laugh to realize how false my guilty feelings had been. It wasn’t my responsibility to take care of Bene, just as it wasn’t Lexander’s responsibility to protect me.

  I was lying down, letting an olf bounce on my leg. "Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked.

  He considered it. "Yes, I did. I found the most accommodating woman with a great soft bed and lots of ale."

  "That sounds good." I continued playing with the olf.

  He looked around, realizing the others were gone. "They left without you?"

  "There will be another group of peregrini through soon enough."

  Bene was more confused than ever. He returned to the woman’s house over the next few days, but when another band of peregrini arrived at the hospice, we continued with them.

  The new band of peregrini was much smaller; six clerics who were intent upon their journey. They claimed to have left other peregrini behind who couldn’t keep up, and they warned us about their prodigious pace.

  Most of the clerics were of an age to be dandling children on their knees as they contemplated the work of the day. But instead they had dedicated their lives to worshiping their god. They were bundled up in drab layers of wool, revealing only their eyes, but even in the warmth of the hospices their shaved heads made them look the same. Of the two elder men, one was distinguishable by his large, hooked nose that came down in a point, while the other had collapsed lips where his teeth used to be.

  I had been honed by my exertions so I was able to maintain their brisk pace. I had every need to reach Veneto quickly. Bene usually had energy to spare, so he didn’t complain. Even when we caught up to our former band of peregrini, we continued on with the fast-moving clerics.

  Then one day we surmounted a pass and instead of snow before us, I saw a verdant valley of luscious conifers. "We’ve reached the other side of the summits," I told Bene.

  He looked around doubtfully. "I hope you’re right."

  It was not as bitterly cold, so I pushed back my hood as we walked. The clouded sky lifted ahead, showing a swath of blue.

  It seemed the worst of our journey was over and that we had made it safely to Ditalia. But that night we learned that Veneto lay in the opposite direction from Kristna’s Holy City. Soon we would have to leave the band of the clerics and strike out on our own.

  We came down out of the summits onto the western coast of Ditalia. The brilliant blue sparkle of water beckoned us from the horizon. But the road forked and the peregrini continued down to the coast, while Bene and I turned inland. Veneto was off the eastern coast of the narrow peninsula of Ditalia.

  We stayed in a sanctuary close to the fork in the road, hoping to meet up with peregrini going our way. But everyone was traveling to the Holy City.

  Bene and I set off alone, and the olfs returned to bound along beside us. Bene didn’t notice them, but I felt much better for their company. I started humming and singing to please them, and after his initial surprise, Bene joined in.

  I realized I had to tell Bene about the olfs, otherwise he was going to think I had suddenly gone daft. He tried to laugh off my explanations at first, but when I began to describe their unseen antics—tickling a dog’s nose to make it snap, tripping him up as he crossed a brook, and splashing water from puddles on us—he began to doubt.

  I asked the olfs to obscure me from his sight, and when I disappeared before his eyes, he could no longer deny the truth. Indeed, he looked at me in awe, the way the followers gazed at the images of Kristna hung in every sanctuary.

  That was certainly not my aim. "My mam and her people commune with the olfs every day. I’ve met people in the Auldland who do, as well."

  In thanks for my open acknowlegment of them, the olfs led me to a smoker hung with meat from a freshly killed boar. It belonged to an estate that clearly lacked for nothing, so we feasted like kings. It was my first taste of meat in more than a moon. I began to feel foolishly optimistic.

  But that afternoon we came upon a scene of devastation. A grand house had burned to the ground, and the cracked beams and utter collapse of the walls reminded me of Vidaris and Becksbury. A dozen men and women were gingerly poking the blackened mounds.

  I looked for Lexander, but the headman stopped us from going closer with his soot-covered arm. "Hold up. What are you two doing here? We’ve claimed the salvage rights."

  I understood him quite clearly from the olfs, but I stumbled in speaking the Ditalia language. "Peregrini," I said, holding out my staff. His suspicion eased. "People die in fire?" I put my hands together piously, adding in Frankish, "We can pray for their souls."

  "I’ve no oblation to give you," the man said bluntly. "And these folk would not want your prayers, not after Kristna’s own has killed them. This was a pleasure house. The sentinels came two days ago and burned them out. The master and his consort must have been inside."

  I had no doubt that Lexander was the instigator. "Slaves here, yes?"

  He turned back to his work of sifting through the rubble. "Not anymore. They were taken to Chivasso to be sold."

  My worst fears were realized. Lexander had brought down the fury of Kristna on this remote pleasure house, and the slaves were part of the wreckage. I grabbed Bene and ran without stopping to the town at the bottom of the valley. My only hope was that Lexander had purchased the slaves to free them.

  I soon found the slave master and his cart in the marketplace. There were six pleasure slaves sitting in the straw, their wrists bound together in front of them. Their brief tunics looked much like the ones I’d worn in Vidaris.

  I stopped a young servant boy and he told me about the excitement the previous day when all fourteen slaves had been put up for sale. The townsfolk had come to gawk at the slaves, pointing and shouting out lewd remarks until they were hustled along by the town sentries.

  None of the slaves had escaped. A wailing cry filled my head—How could Lexander allow this to happen?

  A fine wagon with tall wheels arrived, and a man in a fur-trimmed tunic peremptorily took charge of four slaves as if the sale had been previously made. A servant linked their wrists together with a rope and led them like a line of mules to the wagon. The slaves never looked up, their shoulders hunched wearily, as if they had suffered exceedingly before this latest trial.

  I seized Bene’s arm. "Please follow them! Find out where they go."

  Startled, Bene asked, "Then what?"

  "Come back here. I’m going to see what I can do about these other two."

  The wagon drove away, and Bene ran off without questioning me. That was his training.

  I circled around the marketplace to approach the cart from the re
ar. There were boys lurking about as I was, trying to get a look at the pleasure slaves. The sentries were making regular rounds, ordering loiterers off and swatting at them with their sticks.

  I slipped under the wagon next to the slave master, hiding behind the wheel. A big donkey was in the traces of the slave master’s cart, flicking its ears at the flies. There was no way to get the slaves out of the cart with the slave master on the other side. So I decided to take the whole thing.

  Checking to be sure no sentries were nearby or urchins watching, I moved over by the donkey’s rear legs. He was wearing hobbles. They made clinking sounds as I removed them. The donkey snorted and shifted when it realized it was being freed.

  The slave master was at the back of the cart, leaning against it. Stealthily, I climbed into the front seat, picking up the short whip lying on the floor. As I gathered up the reins, I raised the whip to crack it, shouting out, "Yi!"

  But the donkey was a staid old beast. My cries and the sound of the whip were not enough to startle it into a run. The cart jolted forward, then slowed. I gritted my teeth and lashed the donkey across the back, but by then it was too late. The slave master swung up into the seat and with one blow knocked me to the ground.

  "Hold hard there, boy!" the slave master shouted at me. "Trying to steal my stock, are you?"

  I scrambled under the wheels of the adjacent wagon as he came after me. My mantle caught on something, so I shrugged out of it and left it behind in my rush. The slave master was bellowing for sentries, as I scuttled around frantically trying to get away. I ended up panting behind a barrel with my head still ringing from the blow, when the slave master finally gave up and returned to his cart. I hoped the slaves had fled while they had the chance.

  I cautiously made my way through the market. By the time I returned, the slave girl was standing beside the cart. Her lush hair hung straight to her waist, hiding her bared breasts. The brief tunic was draped nearby, and a brawny man fondled her groin, examining her as he would a horse.