Men In Chains

by Virginia Reede

  Alun and Selia exchanged looks.

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Selia. “Outlanders are always difficult, and this one is more troublesome than most.”

  “I am sure you know your business,” said Delinda, “but I will be cautious.”

  “How will you transport him?” asked Selia.

  “My carriage is nearby and my employee will be with me.” Delinda did not add that her employee was the very slave she had purchased from this woman just over a week prior, and he could no more restrain a man the size of the outlander than he could fly.

  “As you wish. Alun, go get him.” Alun vanished into the shed and Delinda resisted the urge to pace.

  After an interminable wait, Alun returned alone. “Excuse me, Ra.”

  “Yes?” asked Delinda and Selia simultaneously.

  “He does not seem to be able to walk at present. Shall I have him carried out?”

  “Yes,” said Selia, just as Delinda said, “No.” Selia turned to Delinda.

  “Do you want me to keep him here for another day so he can recover? The healer is not here today.”

  “Bergun has seen him,” said Alun. Delinda nodded—she knew Bergun was a slave who belonged to Selia and had been trained to assist the healer. “He says he thinks his skull is not damaged, but there may be some swelling that will be better after a day or two. Until then, he may be too dizzy to walk by himself.”

  Delinda considered. The story of who had bought the outlander and thus prevented the execution would no doubt be the primary subject of village gossip by the end of the day. By this time tomorrow, she would have a large audience of onlookers if she arrived to claim her property. She made a decision.

  “Take me to him,” she said to Alun.

  Again, Alun and Selia had a wordless exchange as if this idea did not please them.

  “The area where he is currently being kept is, er…” Selia struggled for words. “Not intended for viewing by the public.”

  “I will not be concerned with his surroundings,” said Delinda, catching the meaning. Selia obviously did not want her to see how bad conditions were inside the shed. She could not know of Delinda’s keen interest in such matters, and it was better kept that way for now. “I may be able to help you get him on his feet, and if there is any chance I can take him out of here today, I would really like to try.”

  Selia considered, and Delinda wondered if the slave merchant had perceived the rahnta when they had briefly touched. If she had to resort to using it to help the outlander, she would do so, and this shrewd woman could hardly fail to notice. But until it came to that, she wanted to avoid calling attention to her power.

  “All right, let us all go. Alun, lead the way.” They turned and followed Alun through the doorway.

  It was not a long journey. They passed through a workroom of some sort, a plain but clean bathhouse, and then into a long room with tiny windows and cells on either side. Delinda looked around and saw most of the stalls were occupied by men, all of whom were naked and most of whom were resting on their bunks. The cells on her right had high walls and bars, and it was to the first of these that Alun led them.

  The outlander was lying on the low bench at the back of the cell, facing away from the rest of the room. He was not naked, but wearing some kind of loose trousers made out of an iridescent fabric, now smeared with dirt and what may have been blood. His bare back showed a lot of cuts and scratches, and was filthy. A darker smear at the back of his head, Delinda assumed, must be Grenda’s handiwork.

  Alun opened the door and they stepped inside. As Delinda drew closer to the motionless figure, she could smell the reek of strong drink. “Is he drunk?”

  “Perhaps,” said Alun. “But his pants were soaked in brandy for some reason, and that is what you smell.” He did not comment on how this might have happened.

  “Is he unconscious? Can you help me turn him over?”

  Alun moved forward. “He was conscious when I came in before, but only just,” he answered, grabbing the man’s shoulder and turned him firmly, but not roughly, onto his back. “Wake up, outlander. You have visitors.”

  A deep groan arose from the man. “Not again,” he mumbled. “Leave me alone.” He flung an arm over his eyes, although the small windows cast only a dim light in the room.

  “Let me try,” said Delinda. Alun stood aside and Delinda approached the supine man. She glanced surreptitiously at Selia and saw the woman watching her keenly. She took a deep breath and touched the man lightly on the shoulder. “Wake up outlander,” she said. “I am taking you out of this place.”

  The arm was pulled aside and the eyes opened, startling Delinda again with their amazing sea-green color. She could see he was struggling back to the surface. “I am Delinda, your new employer, and we must go. Please wake up and come with me.” He tried to lift his head, but groaned again and let it fall.

  Glancing again at Selia, Delinda realized she must use her power. She reached for it, found it, allowed it to trickle out slowly. Perhaps if she did not let it out all at once, Selia would not notice.

  * * * * *

  Lying on his back with his head pounding, Jeryl was vaguely aware of a voice commanding him to wake up. He tried to open his eyes but everything was foggy. Then, a familiar sensation began at his shoulder and moved through his body. Instantly his vision unclouded and his eyes shot all the way open. He felt the tingling sensation and the beginning of the spreading warmth. The headache eased and then vanished. He was just savoring the loss of pain when he came awake with a start. It is happening again! He looked up and saw a female form standing over him, her hand on his shoulder.

  “Not this time!” he said clearly, sitting up abruptly and brushing the hand from his shoulder. The woman, startled, took a step back. Selia started to rush forward but the other woman held up a hand.

  “Wait,” she said, as Jeryl stared at the three of them in alarm. “We have startled him. Give him a moment to get his bearings.” One by one, he stared at his three visitors until his gaze settled on Delinda.

  “It is you. From yesterday, on the street.” Was it really only yesterday? His head began to spin again and he would have lain back down, but he did not want to be on his back with three people standing over him.

  “Yes,” the woman replied. “We met yesterday. As I was telling you when you were still not quite awake, my name is Delinda and I am your new employer. I have come to take you out of this place. I assume,” she looked around at the tiny cell, “you would not mind leaving.”

  Jeryl wanted nothing more than to leave this cell, this village, this entire cursed land. But the memory of his last trip out of this cell made him wary. Was this another woman who intended to use him as some kind of an amusement? Employer, she had said. She had helped him yesterday—perhaps she wanted to help him again. He doubted it, but since he most certainly did not want to remain in this cell, he supposed he would go with her. I suppose I do not really have a choice.

  “No,” he said, resisting the urge to sink back onto his bunk. “No, I would have no objection to leaving. Just give me a moment.” His head, though it felt better than it had a few moments ago, had resumed its pounding when he had pushed her hand away. He wondered if he would be able to stand. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and tried to use the edge of the bench to help him rise. He stood, swayed, and would have fallen if both Delinda and Alun had not each grabbed an arm. He pulled out of Delinda’s grip, afraid she would again use that accursed rahnta on him. Yes, it had helped him with the pain, but he knew from all-too-recent experience it could also be used to confuse and seduce, and he wanted no part of it.

  Gradually the room stopped moving, and he said to Alun, “Let me see if I can do this on my own.” Alun released his arm, and Jeryl walked out of the cell on shaky legs.

  “Outlander!” called Duwall. Jeryl turned and got his first good look at the man, who was smiling. Jeryl smiled back. Duwall was indeed a handsome man, but he was at least a hea
d shorter than he, with dark hair and gold eyes the same color as Delinda’s. “How is it all these women want to take you out of here, and you the disgraceful sight that you are? Goddess, but it makes me wince to even look at you. Why you and not me, will you tell me that?”

  “Maybe they’re jealous because you’re prettier than they are,” replied Jeryl, wishing he did not have to leave the man behind, locked in a cell. He was the only person in this cursed land who seemed normal to him, relatively speaking.

  “Well, they will not have that concern with you, outlander. Perhaps Selia can find a sack for the Ra to put over your head before she takes you out into public view and everyone has pity on her for her poor taste,” replied Duwall, irrepressible as usual.

  “That will be enough out of you, Duwall,” said Selia. Jeryl noticed she did not really sound all that angry at his impertinence. If Duwall had really been in and out of the sheds as many times as he had said, she was probably used to him.

  “Ra Selia, how can you be so mean to me when you know I keep getting in trouble so I can come back here and see you,” he appealed. She snorted, and he went on, “Anyway, good luck to you, outlander, and do not forget to put a good word in for me with your new employer.” Duwall had not missed the use of the term Delinda had used to introduce herself.

  “Goodbye, Duwall, and good luck to you as well,” said Jeryl.

  “If you two do not mind,” said Selia sourly, “the lady has gone to a great deal of trouble to get you moving, and Alun has work to do.” The procession moved and Jeryl saw Delinda glance curiously at Duwall.

  When Jeryl emerged blinking into midday light, he felt weak again and swayed. Again, Delinda grabbed his arm. When he started to pull away, she held on firmly, saying, “You will fall, outlander, and I wish to be away from this place as quickly as possible.” Selia, obviously in agreement, had already returned to her desk and Alun had stayed behind in the workroom.

  “I have had enough of this rahnta, or whatever it is called,” he replied, which seemed to surprise Delinda. Nevertheless, she did not relinquish her grip.

  “I can help you to walk without using my powers,” she said quietly, as if she did not want Selia to overhear. “I am quite strong.”

  Jeryl looked at her appraisingly. She was dressed, as he had come to realize was normal for women here, in trousers, and stood well past his chin, which was unusual for anyone, man or woman. “I can see you are.” He looked around, squinting. “By the way, where are we going?”

  “Right now, to my carriage,” she said. “Which means we are going to have to go around this building, across the auction lot and the street beyond. From there, we’ll have to walk another half block to my friend’s shop—my carriage is in the alley behind. Can you make it that far?” She was scanning his face with concern.

  “If I have to.”

  “There is one more thing,” she added, as they started to move along the side of the building. “There may be people standing around in the auction lot. They may not all have heard the execution has been called off and even if they have, there are some who are not happy about it. They may be hanging around to see what is happening.”

  “Sorry,” he said, gritting his teeth against a wave of pain and nausea, “to disappoint them.”

  “I’m not,” she said. “They are vultures. Despicable.”

  Jeryl looked at her, surprised at the passion in her voice. He might have asked her more, but just at that moment they rounded the end of the building and were faced with the lot where the men had been attached to poles the day before. A few women were indeed clustered around, shielding their eyes from the sun and watching the door that opened from the back of one of the sheds. That must be where they thought I’d be led out, he thought grimly. They were almost to the street before anyone turned and noticed them.

  “Look!” said a voice, and all heads swiveled. Jeryl could imagine what they were seeing—a red-haired noblewoman firmly escorting a staggering man, who was wearing only a pair of silky pants and decorated with smears of dried blood and dirt. While no one actually darted after them, every face stared unashamedly as his new “employer” practically dragged him past. Jeryl was close enough to hear the comments.

  “Up to some kind of trouble, just like her mother…”

  “Not fair, the rest of us have to wait for an auction…”

  “Bet I know what she wants with him…”

  “Just keep walking, we’re almost there,” said Delinda through gritted teeth. They walked partway down the block and she turned at the front of a shop. A white-haired woman waited anxiously in the doorway.

  “Come in, come in,” she said, “and take him right through to the back. ‘Twill not be five minutes before that pack of jackals all decide they have a burning need to shop for a new pair of trousers, just so they can see where you went.” As Delinda hurried through, the woman gave Jeryl an appraising glance. “And tell Letta to get you some decent clothes for him, although I doubt we have anything long enough.”

  Before Jeryl had time to register much about the shop, he was whisked through a back door and straight into a pretty blonde girl, who stared up at him with her mouth open. “Goddess, Delinda, you did it! When Korin told me you were off to stop the execution and buy the outlander, I did not think it possible, but here you are. Ostyn is waiting out back and he’s so nervous I could not get him to sit down at all—”

  Delinda cut the young woman off gently. “Yes, Letta, I’m amazed myself and I want to tell you all about it, but it will have to be another time. I want to get out of town before a horde of women descends on this place. Korin hoped you could find something for him to wear.”

  “Of course, but anything I have is going to be too short.” She looked at the silky pants and grinned. “But they’ll be more decent than what he’s wearing now. Do you have time for me to measure him so I can make something up? I’m sure we do not have shoes big enough,” she said, eyeing his feet doubtfully.

  Jeryl was about to speak for himself but Delinda continued, “You will just have to estimate for the time being and we will have to do without shoes until you can measure him properly. Just give us whatever you have and we will figure something out later.”

  Since this was pretty much what he had planned to say, Jeryl decided to let it go. He was too tired to argue.

  Letta perused the shelves and took down a rough shirt and some sturdy trousers. She thrust them at Jeryl. He thanked her and prepared to change but realized he had two problems. First, there was no place he could hide his nakedness once he removed the ridiculous pants he had been wearing since last night’s insane encounter with Bloduewedd. Second, he did not think he could support his own weight long enough to get his pants on.

  “Excuse me, Miss,” he started, and Delinda turned. “I am not accustomed to, er, I mean I prefer…”

  “What is it? We have no time,” said Delinda impatiently.

  Jeryl sighed. “I think I need help changing, and I am not used to being naked before women,” he said, feeling himself flush.

  “Oh, for the Goddess’ sake!” snapped Delinda. “Sit down and I’ll get Ostyn to help you.” She eased him onto a chair and stuck her head out the back door. “Ostyn!”

  A slight young man appeared instantly at her side, looking agitated. “Oh, Miss! Korin said you had gone to see Grenda and Bloduewedd and I was afraid you would, er—”

  “You were afraid I would get myself into more trouble,” she finished. “And perhaps I have, but everything is fine for now. I just need you to come inside and help your new coworker to get dressed. He has been injured and needs a little assistance. Will the horses be all right?”

  “Yes, Miss,” said Ostyn, and he turned to face Jeryl.

  Jeryl saw surprise on his face. Is it my size? All the men I have seen here are so small. Just as well I am sitting down.

  “Well, Ostyn, it’s been long years since I needed help getting my pants on,” he said, wanting to ease the man’s discomfort. He must
have been successful, for Ostyn stopped staring and took the clothes that Jeryl offered him.

  “If it is true that you knocked Bloduewedd down in her own bedroom, it is my honor.” The words, though spoken quietly, held an unmistakable tone of amusement. Considering Ostyn’s meek demeanor, this surprised Jeryl.

  “Oh, I knocked her down all right. But she managed to get up again.” He remembered the feel of Grenda’s boot on his back and winced. “I was not so lucky.”

  “Oh, but you are.” Ostyn, having managed to get the ruined pants off Jeryl, now held an open pant leg before one of his feet. “Any man who belongs to Delinda is lucky indeed.”

  “I do not belong to anyone.”

  This brought a quiet smile to Ostyn’s otherwise solemn features. “The funny thing is—Delinda is probably the only person in town who agrees with you.” He frowned. “Except for maybe Korin and Letta.”

  * * * * *

  While Ostyn helped Jeryl, Delinda peeked out into the main shop area. Korin was looking out the door but none of the women had decided to come in yet. Probably waiting for me to come back out. She joined Korin. “I cannot thank you enough for all your help,” she said, and Korin hugged her.

  “I am so happy to do it, for your mother’s sake as well as your own. Was Letta able to help you?”

  “Yes, although I think she is disappointed I will not let her measure him for a full wardrobe just now.” She smiled and Korin smiled back. Even though Korin was nothing like Morenna in appearance, the older woman’s warmth made Delinda ache for her own mother. “I will be back for next week’s auction, and I’ll pick up the things we ordered for Ostyn if they’re ready. And I’ll bring the outlander back for a real fitting.”

  “Goodbye, my dear,” said Korin, just as voices sounded outside the door. “You had better go—it looks like curiosity has finally gotten the better of someone.” She turned to greet her new customers and Delinda swiftly moved through the curtain into the back room. Being as quiet as possible, she slipped around the corner and came up short. Ostyn held a pair of pants while the outlander, naked below the waist, was using Ostyn’s shoulder to steady himself as he stepped into them.