Men In Chains

by Virginia Reede

  At that moment, one of Jeryl’s arms fell from the back of the tub and landed in the water with a loud “plop”. Startled, Delinda gasped and jumped backward, her face flushing. Jeryl blinked and looked around, fastening his eyes on Delinda. She wondered if he knew what she had been looking at.

  “I did not expect to find you here,” she said, pleased not to stammer. “I was up early, and thought to start my day with a bath.”

  “I had the same idea.” Damn, but she looked pretty standing there, her face pink. Was she blushing because of his nakedness? Surely she was used to seeing men without clothing—it seemed to be routine here. “I’ll be out in a moment and you can have your turn.”

  “No need,” she said. “The tub is designed to accommodate up to eight people.” Quickly, she undressed and stepped into the water on the opposite side of the tub from Jeryl. Sighing at the heat, she dipped her head under the water and surfaced to find Jeryl staring at her, open-mouthed. “What is it? Do men and women not bathe in front of one another where you are from?”

  “Not as a rule,” said Jeryl. “I gather it is commonplace here.”

  “Well, yes, it is common for a woman to be assisted in her bath by a slave. To wash her hair and scrub her back. Not that we followed that custom when I lived in the city with my mother—she and I usually took our baths together and gave each other help as needed. After her death, I learned to wash my own hair.”

  “Did you not have slaves in the city?” Jeryl asked.

  “Not of our own. Our home did not have the quarters to accommodate them. We hired them from others and did a great deal for ourselves.”

  “But not the cooking or the washing,” said Jeryl.

  “No,” agreed Delinda. He must have seen the small mountain forming in the laundry, she realized. “I should have found someone to help me with the house immediately, but I needed someone to care for the horses more urgently. When I found out Ostyn had spent his life tending animals, I chose him.”

  Jeryl had been in the water far too long, as evidenced by the wrinkled state of his fingers and toes. He would have liked to retreat, but the sight of Delinda’s white breasts peeking above the water’s surface had caused a reaction. He tried to think of other things, but as she raised her arms to wash her hair, he caught a glimmer of pink nipples bobbing just below the surface. He was soon fully erect, and felt no signs of the condition abating as long as he continued to sit across from Delinda. When she picked up a bar of soap and starting running it along her skin both above and below the water, he suppressed a groan. He would just have to wait until she got out. She may have been accustomed to seeing men naked but he was not quite willing to display the full extent of his response.

  “How are you feeling this morning?” Delinda asked.

  “Fine,” lied Jeryl. I would like to lie down and sleep for a week, if this infernal erection ever subsides. He shifted his position and winced.

  Delinda must have seen his expression. “Is it your ribs?” she asked. “I can help you with that, you know. My rahnta is healing.” She started to move toward him in the tub.

  “No!” he said sharply. Seeing the surprise on her face, he added, “After my experience with Bloduewedd, I would prefer not to be…invaded again, if you do not mind.”

  Delinda shrugged, lifting the edge of her nipples from the water in the process, and returned to her place. “I can use my power without clouding your mind, you know. But if you do not want my help, you can heal on your own I suppose.”

  “I do not,” said Jeryl emphatically. There was a sound from the door. They both turned to see Ostyn in the doorway.

  “I heard you talking,” he said, “and wanted to tell you I have made some tea.”

  “Thank you, Ostyn,” said Delinda. “We will be right in.” Ostyn left, and she stood to exit the tub. As she turned and stepped expertly over the side, Jeryl caught his breath at the length and shapeliness of her legs—and her posterior. It was more perfectly formed than the ones he had seen in the much-vaunted paintings in his brother’s favorite brothel. So much for getting over my arousal.

  Delinda picked up a large cloth and started to dry herself, doing nothing to help Jeryl’s plight. She turned to him. “Are you getting out?” she asked.

  “In a moment,” he said. “I just want to rinse off one more time. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” She nodded and turned away, leaving the room with her clothes in her arms. A moment too late, Jeryl realized she had taken the robe.

  Chapter Eight

  Breakfast was a forlorn affair. Delinda must have noticed some of the food was missing—Jeryl had forgotten to bring it back with him. Ostyn mentioned one of the horses had seemed unusually tired and disinterested in her food, and Delinda suggested he just let her rest today and see if the problem corrected itself by tomorrow. Ostyn let the matter drop, but Jeryl though the look the former slave gave him was suspicious.

  Jeryl had returned to the laundry, wrung out the clothes in the basin and hung them over his balcony to dry, but even the strong morning sun would take some time to work. He had arrived at the table with a large drying cloth wrapped around his hips and a smaller towel hung around his neck. Delinda had eyed him critically, but if she thought his attire inappropriate she made no comment. Ostyn had followed his employer’s example and kept his mouth shut. Jeryl had been toying with an explanation, coming up with nothing more convincing than the towels smelled nice.

  After the morning meal, he excused himself and went to check on the progress of his drying clothes. They were still damp but he put them on anyway, hoping they would dry on his body before anyone noticed. He looked longingly at his unmade bed but dared not lie down. Instead he went back downstairs to see what Delinda had in mind for the day.

  He found her in the library, writing busily. She looked up when he came in. “I had hoped to avoid going back to town for a few days but I left without getting everything I needed. I am considering sending Ostyn by himself with a letter of permission but I do not know if he is ready to travel alone. On the other hand, it would probably be better for me not to show my face again until the talk has had a chance to die down.” She frowned and put down her quill, temporarily defeated by the dilemma.

  She looks as tired as I do. The sound of clattering hooves on the drive interrupted his thoughts. Jeryl strode to the open window and looked out. A small wagon was turning into the lane and he could see two persons sitting on the driver’s seat. One head was white and the other blonde. “I think it is the two women from the shop,” said Jeryl.

  Delinda joined him. “Korin and Letta!” She rushed to greet them. “What a wonderful surprise to see you so soon! But who is minding the store?”

  “Oh, there is never much business on the second day after market,” said Korin. “We thought it was too nice a day to stay indoors, and decided to use the delivery of a couple of things Letta finished up last night as an excuse for a drive.” She looked up at Jeryl. “We can also properly take your measurements so we can make some things that fit better.”

  Letta had gone around to the back of the cart and was lifting out some packages. “You made all this already?” asked Delinda in astonishment. “You must have been up half the night.”

  “We decided to bring a few other things you might not have had time to pick up,” said Letta. “Since you probably were not expecting company and might not yet be prepared. Jeryl, is it?” Jeryl nodded. “Could you help me with this?” Jeryl hurried to assist her with her bundles, pleased to see bread, cheese and bottles of a dark liquid he could only hope was wine.

  After he helped Letta carry the food and clothing into the house—although most were for Ostyn, she had already made him a simple pair of trousers that tied at the waist—she produced paper and measuring tools and insisted on taking him to the room with the best light, where she proceeded to measure what seemed like every part of him.

  As Letta noted each number, she related the village talk about calling off the execution and what she h
ad gleaned from the morning’s gossip. Delinda and Korin had gone back to the library, from whence erupted peals of laughter. Ostyn came in, having unhitched their horse and taken him to the stable for some food and water, and sat watching Letta in silence. Jeryl noticed his eyes never left her, and she cast more than a few glances at him.

  After finishing Jeryl’s measurements, she began showing Ostyn the clothing she had brought for him, insisting he try each on to see if alterations would be needed. Jeryl took the opportunity to leave, ostensibly to try on his new trousers, although no excuse had been needed—the two barely noticed his leaving. He went up to his room and stretched his long frame upon the bed, hoping he could get a short nap in before anyone came looking for him.

  When he awoke, the sun had moved across the sky to the other side of the house, so the balcony was shadowed and the room no longer warm. He could hear voices downstairs and his rumbling stomach told him he had slept through lunch. He went down the stairs to find Korin and Delinda seated at a table, Ostyn carrying in food and Letta opening a bottle of wine.

  “There you are,” said Delinda. “Ostyn went up to call you for lunch, but said you were snoring so we decided not to wake you. I was just about to send him to get you for dinner.”

  “I guess I was not yet completely recovered from the last few days,” he said apologetically. “But I think the sleep helped and if that is wine, I am sure a glass of it will complete the process.” Letta handed him a glass and then gave one to Ostyn, who looked surprised but accepted.

  Jeryl was amazed at the variety of food on the table. Surely he hadn’t helped Letta unload enough food to account for such a feast. Delinda must have read his expression, because she said, “Letta is a sorceress in the kitchen. I told her there was nothing in the pantry to make dinner for five people and then she produced all of this.”

  Letta blushed. “It just takes a little practice, Miss.”

  “Nonsense!” said Korin. “You have to have talent and imagination as well. I will probably waste away without her, not that a little wasting would not do me some good.” Korin looked ruefully at her own ample waistline.

  “Without her?” asked Delinda, eyebrows raised. “Is she going somewhere?”

  Korin and Letta exchanged a serious look, and Letta nodded at Korin. “You are sure?” asked the older woman, and Letta nodded again. Korin turned to address Delinda, Ostyn and Jeryl. “Letta and I are hoping you will agree to employ her here at your estate.”

  “Employ her?”

  “Yes, Delinda,” said Korin. She took Letta’s hand. “I have been fortunate to have Letta with me these past ten years, and I like to think I have done a good job preparing her for womanhood.” The two women exchanged smiles that went beyond affection. “But in this sector there are few opportunities for a young woman who has neither wealth nor power, unless she is willing to accept the dark rahnta and become one of Bloduewedd’s Reliants.

  “And that,” added Letta passionately, “is something I will never do.”

  “Although Letta has become almost as good a tailor as I and probably a better shoemaker,” said Korin, causing Letta to blush again, “I can more than handle the volume of work I get in my shop. So many people prefer to order their clothes from the cities and these days I mainly do alterations.” Korin paused, looking around at the tall windows and high ceilings of the dining room.

  “In your grandmother’s day, there were at least twenty women and four times as many men running the farm and keeping this house, and none of them were idle. I do not know all of your intentions,” she looked pointedly at Delinda. “But I believe you have a great deal of work ahead and will need many more hands to help you do it. Letta is intelligent and hard-working and would be indispensable to anyone embarking on a new endeavor.” Again, she looked affectionately at the young woman. “As much as I will miss having her with me every day, I want her to have the chance to grow and to be part of something new and exciting. She agrees, and we are hoping you will agree as well.”

  Delinda appeared to be flabbergasted. “I have to tell you I had this in mind since the first time I spoke with Letta. I had thought I should be more established before I approached you and I was afraid it would be difficult to persuade you.” Delinda turned to Ostyn and Jeryl.

  “I would like to know what the two of you think about the idea as well,” she said. Ostyn was only able to redden and mumble his assent. Delinda turned to Jeryl.

  “Based on your cooking, I would have to say yes. But tell me, do you know anything about washing clothes?”

  Delinda laughed at this, and even Ostyn ventured to join in on the joke. “Just do not show her the laundry room yet, Miss—she might change her mind,” he said, causing Jeryl to guffaw and Delinda to laugh even louder.

  The five of them settled down to as jovial a meal as Jeryl had ever had in the dining room of a fine hall or the common room of a seafarer’s inn. A great deal of wine was drunk, causing Ostyn, not accustomed to drink, to become almost jocular. His admiring gazes toward Letta became more obvious as his face became pinker. After all the food was consumed, a great show was made of Ostyn escorting Letta to inspect the increasingly exaggerated pile of soiled washing in the laundry, and she obligingly shrieked in mock horror, returning to table and pretending faintness as the extent of the task ahead.

  It was decided that Korin and Letta would spend the night, and in the morning Ostyn would accompany them back to the village. Letta would return the following evening with her personal belongings and the supplies she would need to start getting the house in order.

  Jeryl felt his own eyebrows rise when Delinda suggest Ostyn show Letta the bathhouse. The two of them disappeared, Letta giggling. Jeryl wondered if Ostyn would “assist” Letta with her bath, as Delinda had described. He rather suspected so.

  Delinda predictably dragged out all of her notes and plans and enthusiastically explained her ideas for phase one to Korin, who not only did not express doubts but made a number of suggestions which Delinda wrote down.

  To his own surprise, Jeryl again found himself thinking of ways he could assist. This time he paid more attention and supplied some suggestions. When he offered to teach simple mathematics, for he had always had a talent for figures, Delinda noted some supplies for lessons. With Letta at the estate, she felt she could acquire employees on an accelerated schedule. Slates, paper and quills were added to the fledgling shopping list Letta would complete in the morning.

  Despite his nap, Jeryl found himself yawning while the women showed no signs of flagging, and he excused himself. As he passed the hallway to the bathhouse, he heard laughter and the sounds of splashing. Ostyn was doing something to assist Letta. Delinda might just find phase two of her plan materializing before she expects. Shaking his head, he took himself off to bed.

  * * * * *

  In the morning, Delinda awoke to find her room already filled with sunlight. She had a mild headache—too much wine, she thought ruefully—but it was not too severe for her to stretch luxuriantly and think of the astonishing events of the day before.

  Her relief and, she had to admit, delight had been considerable when she found Jeryl in the bathhouse when she had only just been contemplating what to do about his disappearance. She took a moment to savor the memory of examining his body at leisure while he slept, and then remembered how titillating it had been to slip into the hot water right across from him, so soon after considering what it would have felt like to feel his member inside of her. Again, she felt the familiar tickle of arousal.

  It is not really such a far-fetched idea. She had no intention of enforcing a slave owner’s right to require breeding of a male in her possession—these men were slaves only in the eyes of the law. Nevertheless, Jeryl himself had told her that men of his land liked to breed. Her initial interest in this fact had been the idea he would be able to encourage the other men to give in to their natural desires, but now she was starting to wonder about Jeryl’s own desires. Is he attracted to me as well
?

  Delinda had, of course, coupled with men. Even in Baldorgan, the birth of a daughter was the goal of every woman, especially in those families where the rahnta was strong. In this regard, Delinda’s family was one of the strongest and, at one time, most revered. As soon as her mother had deemed Delinda old enough to have a child, she had taken her to a respectable breeding house. The men there had been cooperative but not enthusiastic. They took medicines in order to achieve arousal sufficient enough to perform the task, lay passively while their customers mounted them and then moved just enough to cause their seed to flow. Once this happened, the transaction was complete and the man departed the room to allow the woman to dress.

  Delinda had repeated this process on a number of occasions, finding it distasteful even though her body sometimes responded favorably to the brief contact. When, after more than two years, the expected result had never materialized, she had been examined by a physician who had made a somber pronouncement. Delinda, it seemed, would be unlikely to ever bear a child. There was something about the formation of her organs that, while they should not otherwise affect her health, prevented seed from taking root in her womb.

  Delinda had swallowed her disappointment and channeled all her interest into her plans for fighting slavery. The other young women of her circle, equally passionate as they wove their plans in the tea and wine shops of Baldorgan, one by one became pregnant and lost their fervor in what they began to refer to as Delinda’s “crusade”.

  For her part, Delinda had never again gone to a breeding house, nor to the less respectable establishments of the same name that were really intended for enjoyment rather than the planting of a child. The small pleasures she had sometimes felt seemed a meager incentive when compared to her growing outrage at the treatment of the men who provided this service. She vowed she would never ask a man to do this against his will, and until she had met the outlander, this had seemed like a vow of chastity.