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Tess sat at her father’s desk and worked the numbers for the hundredth time with paper and pencil after the computer seemed unable to provide an escape. Regardless of her nips and tucks to the budget, there appeared to be no way around a tough winter. Her only escape seemed to be the one thing she could not do. She grimaced at the cruel lesson her late father was teaching her.
“My dearest, baby sister, Contessa!” The man bounded into her study with a pretty young slave in tow.
“Tosca, I can think of fifty or more of my household who would have tried to stop you from coming in here. If any of them are harmed then you will suffer my ill will,” Tess sat back in the creaking old leather chair.
“I wouldn’t hurt slaves doing their master’s bidding,” he grinned as he flopped in the chair opposite the desk “Unless, they got in my way.”
Tess studied her disheveled brother with a practiced detachment. Tosca’s clothes had been white once. The silk Republic suit was now a stained, torn, and wrinkled mess. The man was handsome with strong features like herself but his boyish good looks had been lost to his addictions years ago. His black hair, prematurely graying at the temples, was a filthy, uncombed mess. Permanent circles beneath his eyes were testament to hours, perhaps, weeks of indulgences. He reeked of sweat, smoke, semen, and intoxicating syrup. If not for his trust fund then the man would surely be dead in a matter of days. Yet another burden for Tess to carry.
“What do you need?” She sighed.
“Well, I was hoping for a fair deal. No charity this time! This slave is worth thirteen hundred credits, if not more,” he pushed the little blonde forward.
“That’s a steep price for a picker,” Tess allowed a hollow smile at her greedy brother.
“She’s no picker! She’s a pleasure slave, silly girl,” he missed his sister’s humor. “What she does with her mouth...”
Tess silenced him with a wave of her hand. Grabbing the scanner, she approach the slave and pulled her left arm out straight. Tess felt the slave stiffen in her grasp but there was no attempt to pull away. The slave had obviously been well broken. The bar code results read back in the window of the scanner. Tess missed Tosca’s nervous swallow as she raised her eyes to meet his.
“Leave your account number and I will transfer the credits,” Tess hummed as she thumbed the bar code burned onto the soft, fair skin of slave’s forearm.
“Well, that’s the thing! Accounts, banks, tellers, tiny slips of paper are not part of my world view these days. Couldn’t you just give me the credits here?” He sighed nervously.
Tess stepped back to the desk to lean her long frame against the solid wood. She thought for several minutes as she tapped the scanner against her leather pants but never took her eyes off the slave. The petite blonde kept her gaze fixed on Tess’ boots. It was obvious to Tess the girl was afraid, as well she should be considering the situation.
“Tosca, I do not keep credits here at the Manor. It would be far too tempting for you,” she ignored his feigned look of shock. “I'll write you a check to take to my bank in town. They’ll cash it for you. What’s your name, girl?”
“Chiem 12 24,” the slave answered automatically without looking up.
“RESPECT YOUR NEW MASTER, BITCH!” Tosca cracked the slave on her bare thigh with his short crop. “Her title is LORD of the Manor, MASTER of Westerly. Which, if you must know, was granted her by our father. Leaving me, with a tiny allowance, the very model of the near do well brother,” his tone was bitter but his smile broad.
“I’m sorry, Master. I won’t forget again, Master,” the slave winced in pain as Tess handed Tosca the check.
Tosca was grinning when he stood to kiss his sister good-bye. He had to stretch a bit to make up for her four inch advantage. Before he could end the embrace, Tess wrapped her arms around his neck to whisper in his ear.
“If you ever lay a hand on my property again, I will beat you until you can’t even piss!”
Tosca stumbled when she abruptly released her hold. There was no hint of humor or retreat from the threat on her face. He cleared his throat and bowed to her power before fleeing the room.
Tess returned to the desk and her computer to dial in the number the scanner had provided. She waited patiently for the connection. Several long moments of whirls and clicks and rings past before a face appeared on her monitor.
“Saunders here, what do you want?” The fat man burped.
“Iggie, it’s Tess,” she smirked as the startled man righted himself in his chair and wiped his greasy mouth.
“Contessa, sweetheart, I was just this minute thinking about you. What would prompt you to call me?” The fat man was clearly smitten.
“You posted a runaway,” Tess ignored the surprised gasp from the slave. “I have her in my study at the moment.”
“Did she steal anything?” Saunders fumed, “So help me Tess, I’ll flog her myself for bothering you. How can I make this up?”
“Let me explain,” Tess sighed wearily as she finally sat in her chair to face her old friend.
“What’s wrong? Tess, are you injured? Did my runaway hurt you? Talk to me, honey, you’re scaring me. Do you want me to come over?”
“No, but thank you,” he was sweet on her, no doubt about it. “It seems my brother stole this slave from your household. I would like to pay you twice her price to keep the authorities out of it. The credits are payable at the end of this call.”
“That Shit, Tosca! But my slave is no better running off with him. She has a history, that one,” he chewed his lip trying to think of a better solution for both of them. “Let me send Gino over to get her out of your hair and I’ll smooth the feathers of the Inspectors. Tosca and you never need to be mentioned. The slave will get twenty five for her trouble.”
It was Tess’ turn to wince. The suggestion would keep Iggie’s house and her own above investigation but the slave would suffer. Twenty five lashes could kill the slender woman. It would, at the very least, maim her and probably make her useless to Iggie. That would leave her worse off than just dead.
“If I buy her then the Inspectors will not need to follow up, you are more than reimbursed, Tosca stays out of trouble for now, and...”
“And you get stuck again,” Iggie shook his head. “If you want to do it this way then I’m fine with the arrangements. I just hate that your bastard brother does these things to you and gets away with it over and over again.”
“Ig, if you hate it then do me a favor and don’t invite Tosca to your place anymore.”
“Tess, he was never on the A list and he is off the B list as of right now!” The man smiled as the screen clicked off.
Tess ran her hands through her long black hair in a feeble attempt to clear her head. She pinched her eyes closed willing the growing headache away. It was unfathomable to her that Tosca could steal from family yet now he was stealing from their friends as well. The hitching breathes of the slave brought Tess back to her immediate duties.
“What’s your name?”
“Chiem 12 24, Master,” the voice was soft, almost soothing.
“That is your sale location and date. Tell me you name,” Tess watched the slave’s cheeks pale and a tremor of fear shake her body. “They broke you of your name?” The slave nodded. “You were taken late then. How old, fourteen, fifteen?”
“Twelve, Master,” the blonde was gagging on the waves of nausea assaulting her from the memory of the horror she had barely managed to survived.
Tess walked over to stand in front of the slave. She placed her strong hands on the slim shuddering shoulders. The slave’s tunic was soaked in sweat.
“Let us get one thing clear, I know you are lying to me but I also know you are sick from the conditioning the traders put you through. So, I’m going to let this one pass but if you ever lie to me again...,” Tess slapped the slave hard across the face with an open hand, “Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Master, thank you, Master,” she gasped against the stinging pain in her cheek.
The door to the study opened without a knock but Tess was not surprised. She continued to hold the shoulders of the trembling slave as an older man entered. His hair was marked by graying strands pulled back tight in a pony tail but his physical state contained a rugged youthfulness from his years on the farm. His simple blue shirt and pants labeled him clearly as a slave. Tess glanced over at him and was warmed by his half smile and wink.
“Poe, this is a new purchase courtesy of Tosca. See that she is properly dressed before sending her to the fields,” Tess released her hold and returned to her desk leaving the slave swaying.
“If I may, we should keep her in the main house,” his voice was strong but subdued as his station required.
“That would not be fair. All Manor slaves aspire to a placement at the main house in hopes of earning their freedom. Just as prescribed in my father’s will. Letting one jump ahead will cause trouble,” Tess frowned at Poe’s breach of protocol.
“More trouble than a pleasure slave in the dorms? More trouble than every stud you own trying to mount her? More trouble than their spurned bitches trying to tear her to pieces in a jealous rage?” He raised an eyebrow.
Tess closed her eyes again. She let her long fingers massage throbbing temples. The headache was growing with every word out of Poe’s mouth but she could not let him win so easily.
“Girl, what are your skills?”
“I ah, um,” the slave blushed hotly making Tess feel guilty for asking the question, “I know how to give any kind of sexual pleasure you desire, my Lord.”
“This is a farm that houses five hundred and provides food for the neighboring town of sixteen hundred. We don’t have time for sexual indulgences if we plan to survive. What else can you do?”
“I will do anything you command, Master,” Tess was not prepared for the answer or the slave meeting her gaze head on.
“Poe,” Tess cleared her throat under the pure green eyes studying her, “clean this slave up and get her something proper to wear and send her...,”
“... to your private stable to replace Cory who will begin work as my apprentice,” Poe finished Tess’ sentence.
“Fine, have it your way but I want double ankle shackles and her chained to a post at night. I will not tolerate her running away from me,” she glared at Poe, daring him to speak but he kept his counsel. “Go, leave me to my work.”
* * *
The pretty blonde slave eased herself into the steaming tub of hot water as Poe had instructed. Her body seemed to ache in time with her heartbeat. Every muscle relaxed in the apparent safety of the warmth surrounding her allowing the nerves to finally scream protest at their abuse. A large hand on her shoulder startled her into a cower.
“Easy,” Poe coaxed. “I mean only to tend your wounds, girl. The salve will feel cold at first but then it will numb and heal. No worries, no fears,” Poe felt the slave relax under his gentle touch and calming words. “First, we’ll heal your body. Then, we’ll calm your mind. Last, we’ll make you whole.”
“That may not be possible,” the slave allowed a silent tear to escape down her cheek to find it’s own freedom in the tub of a billion tears.
“You might be surprised by my abilities,” Poe chided with a grin. “Once, I made Master Tess smile with just my words. Another time, I made her laugh with only my face.”
“Ahh, you’re a magician then,” the slave deadpanned.
“Humor? That will go a long way here,” Poe chuckled before taking a more serious tone. “Give this time, girl. It may be your salvation. Now, soak the filth from your body while I see about clothes to keep you warm. The skimpy tunic you arrived in would never do during our harsh winters.”
The slave watched silently as Poe left the room. His care was tender. If he had meant her harm then it would have been easily accomplished here. His words were almost paternal but that particular thought was best left forgotten. She would trust Poe, she decided. For better or worse, he seemed to care about her and that was more than anybody else right now.
Once she had dried off, the slave dressed in the blue cotton trousers and long sleeved shirt Poe had found for her. The pair left the main house for the black smith next to the common stables at the foot of the hill from the Manor house. Poe spoke softly as they walked. He told her a about the estate as if they were on a tour. The large field in the north sector provided enough grain for the farm and three surrounding towns. To the south, there was cattle for milk, meat, and leather. In the east, the Thom River ran wild with fish. It would appear, the Manor of Westerly was a prosperous venture by any measure.
“L’tish, there is some business here. Come on, I need you,” Poe’s tone was calm but commanding.
A large man emerged from the back room. His bare, black chest was covered in a layer of sweat. He nodded in the pair’s direction. Poe took the slave by the arm and guided her through the door L’tish held open.
“Master Tess commands this slave to be double chained at the ankle,” Poe spoke as he guided her to a vertical restraining table.
“You don’t need to tie me down,” the blonde looked into Poe’s bright blue eyes. “I won’t resist you.”
“It is for your own safety,” Poe moved her back into the fixed restraints. “Chaining can be a frightening and painful experience. If you jerk around then you might get burned.”
The slave allowed Poe to tie her wrists and thighs to the back board. Once she was secured, L’tish knelt to measure the slender ankles with his well trained hand. He stood and made several gestures to Poe.
“No, it must be double chains. The master commands,” Poe answered.
L’tish made several more harsh gestures and grimaced. He turned his attention to the blonde tied to the back board. His hands rose and danced before her in a graceful ballet.
“L’tish wants you to know he does this at the command of your master. He promises not to hurt you but reminds you to remain completely still,” Poe waited while the black smith spoke more with his hands. “He suggests you close your eyes. If you see his tools then you may become fearful.”
“He can’t talk?” The slave asked sadly.
“No, L’tish can’t talk anymore. His first master cut out his tongue for lying,” Poe explained, “he was eight. L’tish earned his freedom when Master Tess inherited the Manor.”
“He can understand me then?” Poe nodded yes to the slave’s question. “L’tish, do what you must. I promise I will not move.”
The large man smiled at the brave, young slave and made a sweeping motion around his face with an open hand.
“L’tish thinks you are very beautiful,” Poe smiled seeing the slave’s blush.
L’tish went to work stoking the fire and gathering the needed materials. He made two trips to the outer room looking for the right size shackles. On his return, he gestured wildly at Poe.
“I realize she is small but you have to do this,” Poe waited while the obviously angry black smith interrupted with sharp hand movements. “L’tish, I’m sorry, you’re right. You are a free man and don’t have to do anything but do you really want to leave this poor girl to the skill of Jaepe? Because the Master commands she be chained, there is nothing I can do to stop it. If you refuse then I’ll have to get Jaepe.”
The black smith’s shoulders drooped in defeat. He shook his head no. Pulling the equipment in order, L’tish sighed heavily unable to stall any longer. He wiped his hands on a clean rage and walked over to the bound slave. His large, sausage like fingers stroked her eyes closed.
“Thank you,” she breathed truly thankful for care shown her by the two men about to chain her.
* * *
“Cory, Cory, where are you?” Poe called out as he entered the Master’s private stable.
“Coming,” the boy ran in almost as fast as he spoke. “My chores are done, Poe. Can I go with you to help treat the field hands?”
Poe tried to smoother the grin spreading across his face. It would not do for the boy to get full of himself but Poe admired Cory’s spirit and eagerness to learn.
“Not today but only because Master Tess has requested your help in another matter,” Poe saw the boy straight up to stand three inches taller.
“Me? The Master requested me?” His brown eyes twinkled at the honor.
Poe pulled the blonde out from behind him. She stumbled over the chains at her feet but caught herself before falling.
“This is the new stable hand. Teach her the chores this week and next week you will join me in the Manor as my apprentice.”
“Really, Poe?” Cory was breathless. “I’m going to the Manor with you?”
The boy rushed forward and hugged Poe. The man placed a gentle hand on the curly head to ease him. Promotions to the Manor could overwhelm grown men to the point of fainting. Every slave of Westerly knew freedom was just hard work away after moving to the Manor. Cory would be no exception.
“Now, teach this girl as well as you wish me to teach you.”
“Certainly,” Cory turned to offer a welcoming hand shake. “I’m Cory and this is the Master’s personal stable. There is a lot of work keeping it looking this good so pay close attention,” the young boy’s earnest nature brought a smile to the blonde slave’s face. “Any questions, just ask. Like Poe says, ask a hundred questions if you must just try not to ask the same question a hundred times.”
Poe laughed out loud filling the air with his deep, rich voice. He had no idea how much the boy idolized him until that very moment. It was a good feeling being able to finally raise a child even if the boy was no blood of his.
“I’ll leave you to get to work.” Poe moved to return to the manor and then called back as an after thought, “Oh, Cory, set her up to sleep in the end stall. She’s to be chained to the post at night.”
The boy’s enthusiasm damped at the directive but he nodded his agreement. When Poe left the stable, Cory examined the new slave carefully.
“Have you worked on a farm before or in a stable?”
“A small farm but that was a long time ago,” the blonde kept her eyes down.
“Well, the stable is not as back breaking as planting and picking but it is still hard work. I’ll show you around first then tell you about the chores. By the way, what is your name?”
“Chiem 12 24.”
“Don’t let Master Tess hear you say that,” the boy hooted. “She won’t have a slave on her farm called by a price tag.”
The blonde began to cry. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. Her heartbreaking sobs echoed through the stable and roused the horses’ nickering attention.
“Hey, don’t cry. I’m only teasing. Master Tess is fair,” Cory rubbed his hand on the her back and felt the rough skin under the cotton shirt. “Did they hurt you till you forgot?”
“Yes,” she whispered feeling every inch the fool for weeping in front of the boy. “Sorry, it has just been a long day. I’m ready to learn my chores, I promise I can do it.”
“It’s okay here, you know,” Cory was solemn. “I was in a bad place before too. They beat me and hurt me so I ran like you. Master Tess happened to be traveling in the village that caught me. They were going to hang me but Master Tess paid my price. She saved my life. I had to prove myself just like you. She double chained me and locked me to the post at night but see,” he kicked out his leg. “She forgave me and unchained me after a few months. Now, I’m going to the Manor. If I do well then I’ll be free.”
“You seem too young to be so smart,” the slave marveled at the boy.
“I’ve had good teachers,” Cory laughed as he helped her up. “Now let’s get to work.”
* * *
Cory woke the new slave before sun rise on her first full day in the stables. They had worked long into the night before the boy decided they could take a few hours of sleep in the warm, sweet hay. As ordered, he had dutifully chained the slave to a post. Before waking her, he hurried off to get the key from Poe.
“Do you always get up at this hour?” the blonde yawned.
Cory tisked at the lazy woman and pulled her to her feet then set to work. He told her about the eight horses housed in the Master’s private stable. Seven of them would be in her care. The Master’s horse was off limits. Master Tess cared for her Rufo and nobody was allowed near the beast.
“Just as well,” Cory whispered as he eyed the huge ebony horse, “there has never been a meaner animal on this earth. He took the last stable hand’s thumb in one bite.”
As if understanding the comment, Rufo pawed the ground beneath him bring up a cloud of dust. The horse snorted at the startled slaves. He did not stop his show of pride until the two retreated a step.
Deciding they had seen enough of the awesome animal, Cory turned their attention to the other horses. He explained the cleaning of the each and their stalls, feeding, exercise, and personality traits. The young boy worked his trainee until her belly rumbled in protest.
“I forgot about breakfast,” he smacked his brown forehead with an open palm. “Lunch should be ready by now. Let me take you to the kitchen to meet Dinah.”
The blonde was quite happy food would be within her reach soon. She had not eaten in almost three days. The combination of little sleep, less food, and heavy labor was making her light headed. She did not want to embarrass herself by keeling over on the boy.
It was a short walk from the private stable to the Manor’s kitchen. Cory explained that the slaves working the upper portion of the estate took their meals in the kitchen. Master Tess had insisted on this when she returned to Westerly just prior to her father’s death.
“People joked that the thought of slaves eating under his roof killed Lord Togo,” Cory explained.
“He wasn’t as fair as Master Tess?”
“I never met him but he was the one who cut out L’tish’s tongue with his shaving razor.”
The blonde paled even more. She was sorry to have asked the question. The mere thought of a grown man grabbing hold of a boy by the tongue and slicing ...
“Dinah,” Cory pushed the kitchen door open, “is lunch ready?”
“Just pull up a chair and I’ll get your plate. Wait a minute,” the woman’s voice took a sharp edge. “What do you mean bringing an ungrateful runaway into my kitchen.”
The heavy set woman raced across the kitchen to grab the slave by the shirt and shoved her back over the threshold. The slave landed hard on her ass.
“Runaways don’t eat under my Master’s roof. Get your meal at the slop pales where all the pigs eat,” the red head thumbed to the trash barrels at the far end of the yard.
“Dinah,” Cory was stunned by her venom.
“Shut your mouth, if you know what’s good for you!”
“Cory, it’s okay,” the blonde struggled to her feet. “The lady is right. I’ve done nothing to deserve her kindness. Master Tess has already given me more than I have earned,” the slave backed away from the door several steps. “Thank you ma’am for showing me my place.”
The door slammed shut with such force it rattled the glass. Turning toward the stable, she decided to wait until she was really hungry before clawing through the trash for a morsel. Her stomach growled in protest but she ignored it as she hurried back to the oblivion of work. Cory’s return was no more than five minutes behind her but she was already cleaning the next stall.
“Chiem, I brought you a roll and butter,” the boy smiled triumphantly.
“Cory, I won’t take food out of your mouth,” her empty stomach objected loudly.
“You’re not. It is Dinah’s. She thinks the dog got it,” his grin faded when she did not smile at him. “What’s the matter?”
“She’s not wrong to think that. In her mind, a dog is getting her roll or, perhaps, a pig. To her I’m just an animal in need of training.”
“So?” The boy forced the roll into her hands, “Dinah’s a slave. Free people don’t believe she is as well trained as a dog. And I know for a fact, Master Tess’ prize pig sold for twice what Dinah’s worth at last auction.”
The blonde laughed around a mouthful of roll. Cory reveled in the lovely melody of her voice. He wished at that moment to always be able to make his new friend laugh like that.
“Thanks,” she finished off the last bite of the most delicious food she had ever eaten. “Let’s get back to work because I have about a hundred questions for you.”
Cory grinned broadly as the beautiful woman smiled at him.
