Servant of the Empire

Startled into the defensive, Mara broke poise and found herself near apology, as she attempted to justify her acts. ‘But I gave you promotion to slave master and allowed you charge of your Midkemian companions.’ She gestured at the slates. ‘You used your authority to see them comfortable. I see they have been eating jigabird and needra steak and fresh fruits and vegetables along with their thyza mush.’

 

 

Kevin threw up his hands. ‘If you work your men at heavy labour, you’ve got to feed them, or they weaken and take ill. That’s common sense. And those fields are a lousy place to be, filled with stinging flies and insects, and all manner of six-legged pests. Any kind of cut gets infected in this climate. You think my men have been enjoying banquets – you try sleeping on the ground out there, where the dust chokes your nostrils, and what passes for slugs and snails on this godforsaken world invading your blankets after dark. And when you do rid your kit of guests, you lie awake unable to catch a breath of air.’

 

Mara’s eyes darkened. ‘You will all sleep wherever I bid, and keep your complaints to yourselves.’

 

Kevin tossed back his untrimmed bangs, the better to glower at her. ‘Your damned trees got cleared, and the fences are nearly complete – give me another week. That’s something, considering our Tsurani counterparts wilt and take siesta every time the sun crosses the zenith.’

 

‘That does not give you leave to take liberties,’ Mara snapped. She caught her voice rising, and controlled herself with an effort.

 

‘Liberties, is it?’ Kevin sat down without permission. Even then she had to look up to him, and that gave him perverse satisfaction.

 

Mara reached out, picked up one of the slates scattered at her feet, and read: ‘The barbarian’s words to the overseer as follows: “Do that again and I’ll rip off your . . . balls, you lying son of a ditch monkey.”’ Mara paused, sighed, and added, ‘Whatever a “ditch monkey” is, my overseer took it as an insult.’

 

‘It was intended that way,’ Kevin interrupted.

 

Mara’s frown darkened. ‘The overseer is a free man, you are a slave, and it is not permissible for slaves to insult free workers.’

 

‘Your overseer is a cheat,’ Kevin accused. ‘He steals you blind, and when I found that the new issue of clothing for my men went to the markets to line the man’s pockets, while they continued to wear rags, I —’

 

‘Threatened to stuff his ripped-off manhood between his teeth,’ Mara interjected. She touched the slate, it’s all here.’

 

Kevin said something rude in Midkemian. ‘Lady, you had no business spying on me.’

 

Mara’s brows rose. ‘About my overseer you happened to be right. He has been punished for his thefts, but as to spying, these are my estates, and what happens is certainly my affair. It is not spying to oversee one’s estate operations.’ She paused, about to say more, then changed course. ‘This interview did not begin as I had planned.’

 

‘You expected me to come back to you with kisses after sending me off like that? After months of breaking my back labouring to get fences built, under a threat of death for men whose only crime was to suffer from heat and malnourishment?’ Kevin said another word in Midkemian, this one short and to the point. ‘Lady, I might be forced to serve as your slave, but that doesn’t make me a mindless puppet.’

 

Mara bridled again, controlled herself, then threw up her hands in a manner more Kevin’s than her own. ‘I had intended to compliment you on your work team’s efficiency. Your methods might be unorthodox, even rough by our standards, but you got results.’

 

Kevin regarded her keenly, his mouth a compressed line. ‘Lady, I can’t believe, after being silent so long, you called me all the way back here to give me a pat on the head.’

 

Now Mara felt confused. Why had she called him back? Had she forgotten how much of a distraction he could be, with his outspoken barbarities and headstrong manners? She felt his anger toward her, and his bleak and frustrated resentment. Having smoothed over the intensity of him in her memories, she tried to distance his presence, and the appalling havoc he was playing with her heart and mind.

 

‘No, I did not call you back here for compliments. You are here because’ — she glanced around, apparently seeking something, while she calmed herself, then reached out and selected another slate, the one that had touched off her fury in the first place – ‘of fence rails.’

 

Kevin rolled his eyes, his hands clamped hard enough to bring white marks out on his forearms. ‘If I’m going to build a fence, I’m not going to do it with rotten posts that will fall down in the wet season sure’s there are flies in the fields. I can see me sitting here being lectured for shoddy “barbarian” workmanship. Not to mention the fact that next year I’ll be stuck with repairing the miserable job.’

 

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