Excerpt
from BONDED :
~~
We stood outside the
detention cell, listening to the harsh, wheezing breath of the man inside. The walls were cold stone, this deep within
the household: thick and damp with stale condensation. I had been here many times to deal with
prisoners, and yet I had never been more reluctant to be here in my life.
“Oriel, I don’t want you to
do this.”
He looked up at me, eyes
clouded with worry, though he tried to look brave. “Chariz… sir. It’s no worse than I’ve done before: than has
been done to me before.” He looked
younger than he had in the daylight—smaller somehow, and more vulnerable. He glanced over to where my mother stood with
her pathetic Magician and a selection of her grooms, chosen for their
companionship of muscle rather than mentality. “I will be glad to help the
Lady.”
I felt sick in my stomach:
I had never felt fear like this before.
I could not describe what it was, nor identify why it struck me so
keenly. It should have shamed me, and it
was important to me that I kept face in front of the Lady. Oriel had only to be near the prisoner, to
try to find out from his intentions whether he was friend or foe. That was all.
Then I would take him away from here, whatever insults she might use on
me, and go back to my room and I would bathe him in the scented water, feed him
the latest fruits until he laughed and protested he’d had enough and juice
dribbled from the corners of his mouth, and then roll him naked on my bed until
his skin was flushed with need and his legs stretched up to my shoulders…
Oriel smiled slightly and
blushed: I wondered if he could feel the desire that swamped me. He touched me once on the arm, very lightly,
and then he went to stand beside the grooms to be let into the cell. We would watch him from the safety of the
viewing area outside, a small walled platform from where we could see through
the high window of the cell. I stood
next to my mother though my body shrank away from her. She knew I disapproved of this whole
investigation. The Magician waved the
grooms and Oriel through to the cell, the door closing solidly behind them, the
wooden frame shuddering against the force.
They locked it, too, though I didn’t imagine there was any physical
threat from the silver merchants’ man. I
could see him through the window, laid out on a pallet set against the far
wall. He looked as if he were ill, for
he didn’t stand up, even when the grooms announced their authorisation from the
Lady. His face was a sallow, shadowed
colour which was surely not entirely due to the dank decorations of his new
guest quarters.
The Magician waved again at
the grooms through the window, and they pushed Oriel down on to a chair beside
the pallet. He sat without a
complaint. One of the grooms let his
hand linger too long on Oriel’s shoulder, kneading the flesh as if he measured
him for market--I marked that man at once, for future attention. Then they stepped back against the wall, out
of our sight. Oriel stretched out one of
his slim, graceful hands and rested it on the prisoner’s arm.
That was all he did.
My stomach lurched. I didn’t know how it could happen,
for I wasn’t touching Oriel or even in the same room, but I felt my heartbeat
skip gently and re-settle in a different beat―one
that I knew with certainty was Oriel’s. It was slower than mine, and made my
muscles loosen and relax, just like they did when he hugged me for no
particular reason; just like they did when I’d slip into the bath alongside
him, spilling water on my rugs and making him l
And then he sat bolt upright. His head went back and
his back bowed awkwardly. My heartbeat started to race and my hands clenched at
my sides.