Chapter 7

Amanda had thought that her mind would dwell upon the indignity of being caged in a small, silent alcove waiting to be used like a plastic sex toy. Instead, she had surprised herself with how accepting she had become of her new role. Initially, she had viewed it as a boon, a way to avoid insanity.

Now she wondered if the insanity would have been preferable; or a despairing semi-catatonic state that would leave her with little capacity to feel on her own; or a Draught-induced vapidness that would leave her dumb but happy.

Instead, her unoccupied and sane mind chose to plague her with fleeting cruelties. Left with nothing but the dim interior of her slave alcove to entertain it, it entertained itself with memories of the grass-covered Circle, of warm breezes and sunny skies, of a pussy pleased many times over.

Amanda's heart thumped. Her eyes burned as she forced her thoughts to focus on Halno. He was the true source of her misery. She had the satisfaction of learning through snippets of overheard conversation during her short trips through the corridors that he was despised by the serving staff as well, especially the maids.

She wished Marris would come to her again, if only to prod her for more personal information. Perhaps she could have dared to coax him into speaking his mind about Halno and confirm her theory.

She flinched, her chain rattling, as the curtain was suddenly yanked to one side; sound exploded into her tiny domain.

" ... a competent job, or is that concept simply beyond your tiny minds to comprehend?" came Halno's irritated and haughty voice, his head turned towards two chambermaids who stood with their hands folded demurely before them. One shuffled her feet and trembled. "Master Norlan will be returning by evening meal, and the dining hall looks as if eastern barbarians held camp within it. I shudder to think what this place will look like come the High Feast tomorrow."

Amanda's eyes widened, her somber contemplation forgotten for the moment. The High Feast! It had barely been on her mind, but now she almost looked forward to it. If Norlan were in charge of it, he would allow Amanda her pleasure. He never left her clitoris numb as Halno did.

But above all, it was something different.

Halno stepped inside and unlocked the end of the chain from the hook on the wall. Behind him, one of the maids spoke in a tremulous voice. "We're sorry, Master Halno! We've been busy sweeping the corridors outside--"

"I do not want to hear excuses. Dwelling too long on one task is no excuse for shirking your responsibilities on another." Halno snapped the chain hard, and Amanda uttered a strangled gasp when the collar bit into her throat. She scrambled forward and out of the alcove, stumbling over the threshold and bumping into Halno. "Clumsy fool."

"Your slave is sorry for her foolishness, Master," said Amanda as her dutiful reply. The words meant nothing to her; she was too riveted on the conversation.

"W-We'll get right on it, Master Halno!" squeaked the other maid.

"I will inspect your work myself inside another candlemark. If it is not adequate, you can seek employment elsewhere."

"A candlemark?!" cried the first maid. "B-But we--"

"We will do as you say!" the other shouted over her companion. She nudged the first maid until the both of them were fleeing towards a side passage.

He's a misogynist, Amanda thought as Halno tugged her chain to force her into step behind him. He treats the male servants better than that.

She allowed herself a brief frown at Halno's back.

"Master Halno!" came a cry and running feet from behind her.

Amanda knew who it was from the voice and turned in anticipation as Marris approached. She almost ran into Halno again when he suddenly stopped and turned. "What is it now, Marris?"

Marris opened his mouth as he came to a stop, gave Amanda a puzzled look, then said what she believed was likely not his intended words. "You're bringing Amanda back now?"

Halno frowned. "Who?" After a nonplussed moment, he glanced at Amanda. "This, you mean?"

Amanda stiffened, and her eyes narrowed for a moment. The surge of hostility was welcome if inappropriate. She felt on an even keel again. By the time Halno could focus his attention on her and confirm her breech of protocol, her eyes were averted and she appeared properly uninterested again.

"You have an amazing capacity for stating the obvious," Halno said. "Master Norlan is returning this evening and wishes her prepared for his pleasure. Is this all you chose to waste my time with, or do you have something else which will continue to waste my time?"

Amanda's eyes darted to Marris. For a moment he seemed ready to cave in and slink away. She wanted to urge him to show some courage before Halno.

"I was curious to know if you had reviewed my petition to be assigned to manage the slaves on the night of the High Feast," said Marris.

"I have already told you, Marris, and I quite tire of repeating myself: you have the guest manifest."

"But that does not require any further effort, Master Halno. I have already confirmed and reconfirmed everyone who will be attending. Taking a final tally as they arrive can be done by the greeting servants."

Halno said nothing at first, his hand playing with Amanda's chain by giving it occasional light snaps. Each one tugged at her neck, and her eyes darted to him in annoyance despite her attempts to control herself.

"Of everyone on Lord Norlan's staff, I have the most experience in this area," Marris continued. "I can do the job most efficiently and will help you earn nothing but praise from--"

"All right, enough!" Halno declared. "If I give you this task, will you do it in peace and bother me no more?"

"Yes, indeed, Master Halno!" Marris cried.

Amanda stared at him. Despite the smile and the beaming face, his words rode on a faint sigh, as if in relief. Her gaze flicked down his body. He held himself less stiff and tense now.

"Fine, then. But if you have to come to me even once with some stupid question you could have answered yourself, or concerns something about which I do not care, you will be lucky if I allow you to clean a malfunctioning sanitary."

"Understood, Master Halno. Thank you!"

Marris glanced at Amanda. She had no time to avert her eyes and appear uninterested again before he fled. She stared at his retreating back until Halno tugged on her chain.

Amanda wanted to believe something odd and interesting was going on, and that she was somehow involved. She wanted to believe that Norlan did not have as much control over her life as he would like her to think. Perhaps he harped so much on how she was no longer "special" because she really was special in some way, and he wanted to keep her in the dark about it.

Amanda bit her lip. Perhaps she really was going insane if she could conjure such fantastic ideas.

She was led back to the slave quarters. Only when she saw the sunlight filtering through the milky glass did she realize how early in the day it was. Norlan typically serviced his slaves after the evening meal. Did he want her for something else before that? So much for not being special!

A washing maid was inside the chamber, scrubbing out one of the sleeping niches. Fresh furs lay in a neat, folded pile nearby. As Amanda and Halno approached, the maid glanced at her, then looked again and stared. Amanda recognized her. It was the young pony-tailed woman who had given Marris that angry glare.

The maid's eyes glistened and lingered over Amanda's body for a moment before she turned her attention back to her duty.

Halno removed the chain from Amanda's collar and pointed a slim finger at Amanda's sleeping niche. Amanda sat on the edge of the furs, her hands still shackled behind her. "You will wait, and you will be quiet. Another servant will be along to take you to be prepared."

"Yes, Master, your slave obeys," said Amanda. She burned to ask for what she was to be prepared. There was never this much fanfare with her usual visits to the pleasure chamber.

Halno left. Amanda turned her head and saw the maid watch Halno leave, a small frown creasing her otherwise pretty face. Her eyes flicked to Amanda again, wavered, and returned to her work.

Amanda allowed herself a tiny sigh through her nose. She twisted her wrists in a vain attempt to relieve the tightness of the stretched muscles of her arms. She thought she would be used to them by now. Her recent thoughts, however, had shattered what little accommodation she had accomplished. She was not sure yet whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

She glanced at the door as her mind played its cruel tricks once more. She could see herself standing at the edge of the Circle for her first training session with the other slaves as Sirinna removed her restraints. She trembled at the memory of her anxiety over appearing nude before so many, and how she had stressed over changing her views about sex to allow her to fit into this strange new world.

She longed for such trivial problems.

"I'm done."

Amanda flinched at the voice and almost slid off the niche. Her wide eyes fell upon the washing maid.

"Oh, ah, terr'bly soirry t' 'ave startled yew," said the maid, her lips curling into a weak, uncertain smile. "I 'ardly see any o' the slaves when I'm workin', wot wi' 'alno findin' something fer them t' do."

Amanda strained to understand the maid's accent. It sounds almost Cockney, she thought. But not quite. Another Earth parallel?

Narlass was, physically, a duplicate of Earth. The continents were in the exact same positions, as far as Amanda could recall her geography. What was different were the political borders. Yet there were still some odd parallels. Jollis' people, the Inonni, hailed from an area which covered Japan, Korea, and parts of China, and they shared some Asian characteristics. Urisi aristocrats bore an accent which sounded faintly British.

The maid paused and appeared to scrutinize Amanda's face. Amanda had the odd sense that this woman was actually expecting a response.

"Soirry if the other maids act like they want yew t' sod off," the maid said. "Nothin' personal. An' I don't treat wi' that! I'm not as daft as 'alf of 'em. Don't matter to me if someone wants to, ah, yew know, play the other side o' the fence."

Amanda thought she did understand and nodded once. Some more things were making sense to her now. Urisi society did appear to frown upon same-sex relationships, but she would have bet that it was okay to pursue them with slaves. That would explain why Marris had emphasized forgetting what she did and with whom she did it.

The maid uttered a quick sigh, looking flustered. "Look, I ... um ... ah, never mind, I got somewhere else t' be."

"What's your name?" Amanda suddenly asked as the maid turned away.

The maid spun back around, as surprised to hear it as Amanda was to say it. "Wot?"

Amanda paused and swallowed. "Never mind. This slave was out of line. Please ... please report this slave's bad behavior to--"

"Like bloody 'ellfire I will."

Amanda fell silent and simply stared.

Now the maid looked a bit nonplussed at her own words. She recovered quickly and drew herself straight. "Foine thing when decent people ain't even allowed t' say their own name. I'm Bessa."

"I'm ... no, I mean, this s-slave is--!"

"Amanda," Bessa said. "Ah ... Marris told me."

Amanda's panic was slow to ebb. For all she knew, this was a test of some sort, and any moment Halno or Norlan would burst in and accuse her of thinking she was "special" again.

Bessa leaned to one side and peered behind Amanda. "That 'alno's left yew in the irons? Yew think he'd let yew 'ave a li'l bit o' freedom 'fore 'e takes yew to do gods know wot."

Amanda wanted to respond, but she could only give Bessa a pained look.

Bessa waved a hand. "I know, luv. Yew can't say nothin' 'gainst no one. That's wot I'm 'ere for, to say the things yew can't."

To Bessa's obvious relief, Amanda smiled.

Bessa stepped forward and lowered her voice, glancing towards the door for a moment. "Yew know, I think Marris was roight 'bout yew. Yew don't look the same as the other girls. Yew look like yew got a brain."

Amanda's smile widened.

Bessa offered a tiny one in return, though the corners of her mouth twitched. She glanced again towards the door. "Ah ... Marris said something 'bout ... ah ... well, 'bout wot yew can do."

Amanda tilted her head. "Do?"

Bessa wrung her hands. "'bout... 'bout yer, ah, skills."

Amanda looked confused. "He did? But we didn't do anything."

Bessa smirked. "Heh, yeah, I know that. But 'e found out from 'alno."

Amanda recalled the conversation she had heard between Halno and Marris. "Oh, yes, that," Amanda said in an uncertain voice.

"So, it's true, roight?"

"Yes, it's true."

Bessa bit her lower lip. "Ah ... so ... is it ... is it something yew like t' do?"

Amanda was too shocked to respond, not so much the question itself but the idea that anyone would actually care about what she wanted.

Bessa grew flustered and drew back. "Ah, never mind, I shouldn't o'--"

"No, it's okay!" Amanda cried, desperate not to end the first real conversation she had had since leaving Oceanus. "Yes, this slave..." She trailed off and paused. She glanced at the door and lowered her voice. "Yes, I do enjoy it."

"Even with goils?"

Amanda gave Bessa a puzzled look. "Um, goils?"

"Yes, goils," Bessa said, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Oh, you mean ... Yes, I do enjoy it with girls, too."

One corner of Bessa's mouth rose. "Soirry 'bout the accent, luv."

Amanda smiled. "No, it's fine. I actually like it once I get used to it."

Bessa's mouth opened, her eyes widening. Suddenly her blush went from pink to red, and her lips fluttered as they tried to curve into a modest smile. "I don't think ... I don't think anyone's ever said somethin' like--"

Both women were startled when the latch on the door clicked. Bessa leapt back from Amanda as the door swung inside and let out a relieved sigh when it was not Halno who entered but another servant. Behind him trotted Larra.

The servant detached the chain from Larra's collar and spun his finger in a circle. Larra turned around and presented her back to him. The servant was about to insert the key into the lock of Larra's shackles when he frowned at Bessa. "What are you doing here?"

"Finishin' up cleanin' the slave quarters, wot's it look like I'm doin'?" Bessa snapped, though Amanda could hear the tiny quaver in her voice. "Yew daft or somethin'?"

The servant smirked. "Yeah, you gotta be Bessa." The shackles fell away from Larra's wrists and dangled from his fingers.

"And wot's that s'pposed to mean?"

Amanda had to repress a chuckle.

"It means you have a smart mouth but you know how to get things clean."

"Hmph. Well, at least they got one part o' that roight." She strolled back to the last niche she had cleaned and grabbed her bucket and rags. "Now, if yew'll excuse me. Some o' us gots real work t' do besides oglin' the girl flesh."

She thrust her nose into the air as she sauntered past the servant. Amanda coughed.

The servant watched her go, then chortled and left, shutting the door behind him with a bang.

Larra watched them go. By the time she had turned around, Amanda had masked any lingering amusement and presented a neutral face. "Still restrained?" she asked with a tiny smile.

"This slave is to be taken to be prepared for Master Norlan's return," said Amanda, betraying no more than duty in her voice.

"Ah."

From the way that one syllable was spoken, Amanda assumed there was indeed more to this than a normal sexual encounter. The corners of Larra's mouth twitched upward as Amanda looked at her in the foolish hope that she would reveal what she knew.

Larra strolled towards Amanda, her movements exuding a confidence that few slaves could -- or would -- show. Her hips swung not so much in a sensual glide of seduction as with the air of superiority that no one would be the wiser or give credence to any claims against her.

Larra sat down next to Amanda and stretched her legs. "So, did Bessa talk to you?"

"No."

Larra tilted her head. "Really? Not a word? Not a single word? Not even a simple greeting?"

"No, nothing," Amanda said in a curt voice.

"Really, it's okay if you did. Hardly your fault if she initiated it."

Amanda averted her eyes, lest Larra see what burned there. Amanda was not special, according to Norlan, but Larra apparently was, or at least believed she was to the point that it became reality for her. At least I never lorded it over the other slaves when Roquan thought I was special, Amanda thought.

Larra smiled. "Such a good slave you are."

Amanda's eyes snapped back to Larra. "Is there anything but being a good slave?"

Larra lay a hand on Amanda's thigh. Amanda's eyes flicked down to it, but she repressed any other reaction. "If you can ask that..." She slid her hand up Amanda's thigh. Amanda resisted the urge to close her legs. " ... then you may not know yet what it means to be a good slave."

Amanda swallowed as Larra slipped her hand around the inside of Amanda's thigh and trailed her fingers towards the sealed sex. "That doesn't make any sense," Amanda said in a quavering voice.

"It will make more sense after tonight." She rubbed a single finger slowly up and down Amanda's slit.

Amanda felt nothing of the touch save for a light pressure. Larra did not relent, and rubbed harder. Amanda felt only more pressure, yet it was enough to trigger the anticipation of sexual pleasure, and she uttered a husky but tense sigh. Larra was rewarded by a sheen of slick moisture oozing through the seal.

Larra lifted her hand, leaving Amanda's pussy swollen and wet with a longing for satisfaction that was not coming. "What happens tonight?" Amanda demanded.

The door was unlatched again, and Larra was swift to her feet. Amanda doubted she would have received a reply anyway. As another servant entered the chamber, Larra strolled away as if she had simply been passing by.

The servant's steps were brisk as he crossed the chamber towards Amanda, his shirt gleaming white between rigid collar and ruffled sleeves. His boots shone and clicked on the stones. He held a chain in his hands at the precise center, equal lengths dangling before him, just far enough away that they would not brush against his body and soil the absolute perfection of his attire.

"Lord Norlan entertains an important guest this evening," the servant said, allowing his eyes only a mere flicker towards Amanda as acknowledgement that someone else was in the room with him. "Act as you would towards your Master. Lord Norlan will be unforgiving of mistakes this evening."

The servant gestured with a snap of his hand and stepped back. Amanda rose to her feet, hesitating only a moment before drawing close enough for him to attach the chain, but long enough to draw a frown of reprove.

The servant whirled around on his heel and marched to the chamber door. The chain snapped taut, and the collar dug into the back of her neck. He did not stop or slow down, forcing her normal trot to a brief run to catch up as he led her out of the chamber and into the hallway.

Amanda finally matched his pace. It had helped jerk her thoughts back to reality. Norlan had told her nothing of this and would likely continue to tell her nothing. After all, she was "nothing special."

And yet I'm the one he picked and not Larra or anyone else.

Amanda clung to that thought like one might grasp a rope to stop falling.

Virgia Point had all but disappeared. Even during the great Founding War, the conflict that had concluded with the creation of Oceanus, it had been little more than a military footnote. Its forts had been abandoned before the war's end to bolster defenses at Selemas Keep, where the last great battle had been fought. A minor Lord kept court here once, but he had since moved on, and the forest began to reclaim what had once belonged to it. No one would find this place unless he knew where to look, and this suited Marlon just fine.

The courtyard of the old palace sat deep inside the ruins. Sunlight filtered through both mouldering crossbeams and young tree canopies. When they had first moved in about ten years before, Marlon and his fellow expatriates had cleared what debris they could, cast strengthening magic at what structure remained, and spelled boulders and fallen trees into curiosity wards to keep away whoever may accidentally stumble upon them.

It had served them well through the darker years of Q'ixanna's rule, when his vendetta against the expatriates had mutated into a bloody crusade, and then warped by a mad Emperor into undisguised genocide.

Yet not all expatriates knew of it. When it had become clear to Marlon and his fellow caretakers of Virgia Point that not all expatriates shared the same goals -- or cared for their brethren better than the Mages at the Guild -- they became very selective in whom they allowed to know of the location.

Passages from the courtyard that once led to the inner depths of the palace now instead led to sheltered clearings in the forest, which served as sleeping quarters. It worked to their advantage; having been so long on the run and living off the land, few wanted to return to the confines of indoor living. Magic flowed more easily out here than it ever had inside the thick stone of the Guild Hall.