Chapter Nine
“He was here,” Andros said. “I mean, I slept a bit in the afternoon. But he was here when I went to sleep, and here when I woke up.”
“Well, he was sneaking around sometime in the middle.” Theos frowned. Even injured, Andros was Sacrati, and he should have been more alert and aware of his surroundings. “Did he give you anything? To make you sleep?”
“Some medicine,” Andros admitted slowly. “He said it was just a tonic, to make sure I kept healing. But I did fall asleep pretty soon afterward.”
Theos nodded. Drugging the man he was supposed to be healing; one more crime to add to the Elkati’s long list. “Don’t take any more medicine from him.”
Andros frowned for a moment, but then sighed and nodded. “Aye. Okay.”
“I’ll take him with me from now on. He can . . . Well, I guess he can do some training. He isn’t infirm, after all.”
“He’s not—”
“Not the enemy? Not a liar and a spy? Not a poisoner?”
Andros shrugged. “Aye, but he’s really very pretty.”
“You’re hopeless.” Theos stood and headed for the hallway, jerking the door open to see if Finnvid had been eavesdropping.
But the Elkati was too clever to be caught like that.
He was sitting against the wall on the far side of the corridor, face as sullen as always, and he barely looked up when Theos stepped out of Andros’s room.
“Heel, Elkati,” Theos ordered. He took three steps, then scowled back at the boy, who hadn’t moved. “You don’t want to test my temper today.”
Finnvid seemed to be thinking about it, but instead he rolled to his feet and ambled in Theos’s direction.
“Laundry,” Theos said when they reached the bathhouse.
He practically dragged Finnvid to the service room, then waved a hand to summon the recruit in charge.
“This slave needs to clean my clothes. But he can’t be trusted, so you’re in charge of keeping watch over him.
If he misbehaves, come get me from the bath. Understood?”
The recruit nodded, eyes wide. This was probably a bit more interesting than the usual laundry duty.
Then Theos turned toward Finnvid. “You clean my clothes while I clean my body. You can’t get into too much trouble in the laundry room, I hope.
If you want a bath, you can splash yourself with laundry water. ”
Finnvid didn’t respond, but he did gather the clothes Theos indicated.
Finally, after all the trouble Finnvid caused, Theos had found one small way in which it was beneficial to have a slave.
Unless, of course the Elkati found a technique to destroy his clothes or embed them with an itch-causing herb, or in some other fashion made Theos wish his patrol had never found the Elkati at all.
Theos ignored the boy through dinner and then through drinks and gaming in the common room, and he didn’t step in when a young Sacrati named Nero approached Finnvid and tried to make conversation.
Nero was clearly nervous, glancing over toward Theos as if expecting a—possibly violent—intervention.
And after a few moments, Finnvid himself looked over as though to see if Theos would get involved.
He thought Theos was going to protect him.
As if it was Theos’s job to protect the comforts of an enemy spy.
Theos took a long swallow of ale and deliberately turned away, giving his full regard to the Sacrati entertaining his table with a tale of incompetent recruits struggling with the simplest of drills. That was what Theos wanted to care about, not anything more complicated.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before the attention of his table was drawn over toward Finnvid, and Theos reluctantly swiveled to see what was happening. Nero was still there, but he was frowning at Finnvid now.
“Unnatural?” Nero said, his voice loud in the growing hush of the room.
“Disgusting,” Finnvid replied, just as loud and somehow even clearer. “Immoral. Sinful. An affront to the gods.”
“The gods?” Nero seemed a bit confused by that one; Torians weren’t much for religion. But he did a good job of pulling himself back to the main point. “We’re disgusting?”
“You’re using your bodies as they were not meant to be used.” Finnvid wasn’t backing down. Indeed, he was the first to rise, a clear challenge in his body language.
“That’s true,” Nero said, standing to stare at Finnvid eye-to-eye. “Torians are warriors. Our bodies are meant to be used for war. For fighting.” And with that, he threw a punch.
Finnvid was quick, Theos would give him that. He didn’t manage to dodge completely, but he moved fast enough to take the blow at half-strength, which allowed him to keep his feet. Still, he staggered and didn’t have his balance before the Sacrati was on him again.
Another blow, this one light and almost taunting, but still sufficient to snap Finnvid’s head back and bloody his nose. Then a few jabs to his gut, and when Finnvid stumbled Nero grabbed him by the collar of his tunic and sent him flying into a nearby table.
Theos just watched. Fights weren’t a big deal; Sacrati were disciplined, even in their recreation time, and they knew better than to let a petty squabble get out of control.
Already Nero had tempered his blows, clearly realizing he was fighting an unworthy opponent, and now he glanced over at Theos as if unsure whether to continue.
“Use your judgment,” Theos said, just as he would have if Finnvid had been a Torian recruit who was being taught a little respect.
The young Sacrati nodded, and looked down at Finnvid, who was struggling to raise himself off the floor.
“Enough, then,” Nero said. He stepped back and half turned, holding out his knuckles to display their bloodiness to a friend.
But Theos approved of the way he kept himself angled, a good position to keep an eye on Finnvid.
Who apparently hadn’t given up yet. He pulled himself to his feet, took a deep breath, and charged.
Nero laughed, stepping to the side at just the right moment to catch Finnvid and flip him over. The Elkati landed flat on his back and lay there for a long moment, his eyes wide, struggling to breathe.
Theos stepped in at last and crouched beside the boy. “Your wind’s knocked out of you,” he said, and he laid a calming hand flat on Finnvid’s chest. “Relax. You’ll be okay. Try to take a few deep breaths.”
Finnvid stared at him, eyes still wide, chest not moving.
“Breathe,” Theos ordered, and Finnvid took a shallow, trembling breath. “Let it out slowly. Good. Now breathe again, deeper this time.”
Finnvid managed that.
Theos stood up and nodded respectfully to Nero.
He’d behaved honorably in the face of an unready opponent; a good character, if not a good fight.
“I wish I could promise an apology, but I doubt he’d mean it even if I made him say it.
” Theos didn’t bother to add that he’d not generally had any luck making the Elkati say a damn thing he didn’t want to.
That wasn’t the point. “Still, I think he’ll remember your objections. ”
The young Sacrati nodded, then came to stand near Finnvid’s feet. “You don’t seem to know too much about how to use your body for anything useful; maybe you should keep your mouth shut about ways to use it for anything fun.”
Theos smiled, and wondered if there was a way to assign Finnvid to this young Sacrati for regular tutoring.
He nudged Finnvid with his toe. “You breathing? When you’ve got yourself under control, go wash your face. Try not to annoy anyone too much while you’re doing it. Be back here by the time I finish my drink.”
Finnvid stared at him for a moment. He’d gotten his breath back and apparently his rebelliousness had come with it. But after a brief, all-too-visible battle with his self-control, he composed himself and jerked his head in acknowledgment.
Theos returned to his ale and paid only a little attention to Finnvid as he rolled to his feet and staggered toward the doorway.
“Don’t Elkati fight at all?” Andros asked as they watched Finnvid leave. “The rest of the men we captured were no match for us, but they seemed to at least have basic training. Why not Finnvid?”
Theos thought about it. “He should have done better,” he agreed. “He fought like a raw recruit. Maybe he’s a full-time medic, at home.” He thought a little longer. “But then why the hell would he have been in charge of a patrol that snuck across the border?”
Andros shook his head. “As usual, more questions than answers.”
Theos was getting pretty tired of that state of affairs. He called for another mug of ale, hoping to find wisdom in its depths, but when it was empty he had just as many questions as he’d had before.
He gathered Finnvid, who had returned to the room and found a quiet spot along the wall to sit and stare at the floor, and they headed back to the barracks.
“That was a disgrace,” Theos said calmly as they walked through the torchlit halls. “If my nine-year-old son can’t fight better than that when he arrives in the barracks as a fresh recruit, I’ll contact the temple and ask them to double-check whether he’s really mine.”
Finnvid didn’t answer.
Theos shrugged. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll train.
No more sitting around. I’ll take you to the yards with me and show you some exercises.
And you can watch others train, and learn from them.
If we can get you to any level of competence, we can try to find a group for you to join, but for now it’ll be private instruction, I think. ”
“I’d like that,” Finnvid said. “Thank you.”
“It’s certainly my top priority to make sure you like the terms of your servitude,” Theos replied calmly. “But you might want to wait until after tomorrow before you thank me. You have a lot of ground to make up, and you’re not going to do it by being coddled.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” And he wouldn’t, not until the next day.