White Beauty

It had been over six weeks now. Master has yet to return and I was beginning to lose my mind.  It was infuriating being kept in his rooms for so long. The rooms were much too big and everything was crude and utilitarian. There was so little adornment I’d taken to counting the bricks in the stone all the way up to as high as I could count, over and over again. 3 score bricks, 12 times. Over and over.

Jolan refused to take me anywhere, almost. On some days, I could talk him into letting me visit the gardens, but most days, he was snappish and short of tone with me. I didn’t quite understand why.

My meals were brought to me twice daily by a guard whose name I’d come to know as Ta’loth. The older man seemed nice enough and well meaning, and once in a while I could get him to converse with me. No one really wanted too much interaction with me, per Gita’s orders, I’m sure. It was infuriating, being treated like a leper when I was supposedly favored.  If this was the Talbian idea of favoritism, I’d prefer to be a stable boy again.

I stood, going to master’s large balcony window, sitting against the stone pillars. I hummed Zera’s song as I daydreamed about what it would be like—to live a life that was not mine. Any life, even a poor farmer life, would be better than this. I would at least be free.

I could be with my horses again, and work a little ground of my own, go to my home at night and sleep without fear of someone wishing to take my body. It almost seemed like an impossible reality. I was beginning to doubt if the whole world wasn’t full of slaves—if anyone were truly free. It seemed that someone was always being conquered or destroyed or taken—did anyone live on their own terms? Or did this whole world belong to the strongest swords?

I sighed, sitting out on the balcony and softly singing to myself for what seemed like hours until a knock sounded at the door. I stood, making my way to the door. “Yes?” I asked, approaching the door to pull it open.

An unfamiliar guard stood at the door, and I backed away slightly. “I’ve your meal,” he said with a small, kind smile. He too was large and broad, and did not wear his helmet. His face was strong jawed and there were indentions on his bearded cheeks when he smiled. His eyes were a dark brown color that stared at me far longer than I was comfortable with.

My brow furrowed as I took the tray from him. Where was Ta’loth? I thanked the guard and moved to shut the door but startled as he put his body in the way. 

“You are as beautiful as they say,” he said with a small grin. I frowned. “Thank you, but you should leave. My master does not wish me—“ 

“I know very well what my fool brother wishes. He wishes to keep you all to himself doesn’t he?”

Brother? This was Gita’s brother? I had never seen him before. And he could very well be a play sent by Hamesh—though I wouldn’t have imagined the slave to be so bold.

“What? He’ll be angry that I chose to keep you company?” the man grinned again. “Doubtful.”

“Please,” I tried again, and the man’s brow furrowed.

He pushed the door completely open and stepped in the room, shoving me back. I cried out and caught myself before I lost my footing.  “And who are you slave, to deny me anything? I am Saluf here, you are just a worthless pleasure slave. Meant to bend over and bare your hole to me. Nothing more.” His face was still pleasant, though there was clear malice in those words. He pushed the door closed and grinned at me again.

This was dangerous. I would be beaten or raped—or both—if this monster got his hands on me.  I needed to find a way out. Master would be livid if he found another had used or hurt me, and there was no telling that I would survive this if I let it happen.

I took a moment to evaluate the man in front of me. As of right now, he was beginning to advance. He was larger than me, sure. But I was much swifter of foot. I sprung into action, running and jumping atop Gita’s bed, clambering over it and out to the balcony.

There was a shout of surprise behind me as the man raced after me. There was no where else to go but over, and I sent a quick prayer to the gods as I hefted my self over the balcony and climbed down the thick stone bars, screaming as the man tried to grab me. I panicked, and slipped, gasping in terror-- but below me was nothing but harsh earth and rock, so I held fast to a bracer located slightly under the balcony. I wiggled until the stone slab thickened under the balcony, and I wrestled my leg over top of it, gasping for air. My heart pounded even as my chest met with the thick slab of granite—it being the only buffer between my body and the hard earth far below.

“Don’t. Don’t look down,” I breathed, the terror thick in my lungs.

I heard the man above me curse and look over the edge for me. “Boy! Where did you go boy?” he called. I stilled, trembling and remaining silent.

Please. Please let him think me dead and leave.

I heard him curse above me and heard his heavy booted feet leave the balcony. It was a short time later until I heard the slightly distant groaning of Gita’s heavy wooden door.

I breathed a shaky sigh of relief. He was gone. But I was not out of peril yet.

How was I to get down?