Shadows Return - Lynn Flewelling [50]
“Don’t worry. Ilban would never harm you.”
“Oh, really? Have a look at my feet.”
“That was just a beating. We’ve all had those. But Ilban is very kind, as masters go. Now let me tend your brands.”
Alec held out his arm and Khenir untied the bandage. The burn was healing clean, and quickly. There was hardly any redness around the scab. “I’m starving. Doesn’t Yhakobin ever give his slaves meat?”
Khenir gave him a warning look. “Even between the two of us, you must refer to Ilban by his title. What if someone were to overhear? As for meat?” Khenir shook his head. “You’re a slave, Alec, so you’d have to please Ilban a great deal to get any of that. I can’t think the last time I tasted any. They think it keeps us docile.”
Alec didn’t feel docile yet, just resentful and hungry.
Khenir dabbed an aromatic salve on the burn. “They have many ways of taming us, little brother. They’ve made an art of it. I hear it’s worst for those with manifested powers.”
“I’m safe, then. That slop pail has more magic to it than I do. I suppose I should be glad. A slave on the ship showed me the scars where he’d been whipped. And gelded. At least they didn’t do that to me.”
Khenir carefully worked the bandage away from Alec’s leg. This one had seeped and the wrappings had stuck to the scab. “Not yet,” he murmured.
“What do you mean, ‘not yet’? He told me he wouldn’t!”
Khenir shrugged. “Perhaps Ilban means to breed you, then, or sell you when he’s through with you. Intact young slaves often fetch a better price.”
Alec pondered that uneasily. “He said it’s my blood he wants.”
“Well, Ilban is an alchemist, after all. It must be something to do with that.”
He leaned forward to work at the soiled leg bandage and his tunic pulled back from one shoulder, revealing the faded white stripes of lash marks, just like the ones Alec had seen on the ’faie aboard the slaver ship.
“Did he do that to you?” asked Alec.
“Oh, no! Ilban is not my first master.”
“You fought back, too, didn’t you?”
“For all the good it did.”
“And did they—?” Still rocked by what Khenir had implied, he glanced down at the other man’s lap before he could help himself.
Khenir looked up sharply. “You never ask a slave that! Do you understand? Never!”
“I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking.”
Khenir sighed and went back to work. “You’re new to all this. Sometimes I forget what that’s like. I’ve been here a very long time, you see.”
“I’m sorry,” Alec said again, feeling miserable. Khenir’s reaction was answer enough.
“Drink your water.”
Neither spoke as Khenir finished with the bandaging and gathered up the soiled linen strips and empty cups.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Alec ventured, as Khenir stood and fastened the lace-trimmed veil across his face. “Do you have to go?”
The man leaned down and stroked his hair. Without thinking, Alec closed his eyes and leaned into the touch; it felt like years since anyone had touched him with anything like kindness.
Khenir smiled sadly and trailed his fingers down Alec’s cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as it’s allowed, I promise. Just do as you’re told. It will be better for you if you do, and perhaps Ilban will give you more freedom in the house.”
He went out and took the candle with him. Alec groped in the dark for the pitcher. The tincture had left him thirsty.
More freedom, eh? Alec pulled the quilts up to his chin. A little moonlight found its way through the grate, and he could see the white puff of his breath on the air.
He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up too much, but Khenir had unwittingly given him a great deal of useful information. There were at least two others like him here, and if he could lull “Ilban” into giving him the run of the house, as Khenir and the nurse evidently had, then sooner or later he could find a way to escape. Given the very real possibility of having his balls cut off, sooner would be better. So, he reasoned, he’d play the good slave and take the tinctures, and use every opportunity he had to learn the layout of the house. But he’d have to be very careful. Yhakobin had made it clear