Chapter 11: Chapter 10
Surely this wasn't part of his master plan. I wasn't thrilled about this. Gawain was very perceptive and despite having very strong suspicions, I hadn't expected Tristan to give in so quickly. It didn't matter if they trusted each other if such deception was anathema to them. All I cared about was making it out in one piece and unmolested.
When Gawain had returned to the infirmary and woken me for an interrogation I had invented a simple backstory for myself. Kation – no, I;I was Kation now, not Natalya – had been a slave as long as I could remember. Luckily, I had been bought as a very young child to be playmate to my master's son. The household had been a good, domestic place and I had received a first class education alongside the heir, even accompanying him to Athens to study when he was a young man. I had been even more fortunate to have been left strictly alone by men, despite verbal propositions and the occasional physical attempt. What had my previous names been? Oh, well that didn't matter now that I was Kation, but Cleon had called me Pallas.
I made a pretty good show of it, but I could practically taste the suspicion that hung in the air between us. I trod very carefully through our conversation – having to mind the pitch of my voice helped, but it was exhausting. When would Tristan wake up and give me an excuse to escape? Bloody man…
Then (in a masterstroke of genius) I distracted Gawain from his questions by offhandedly mentioning having had worse journeys than the one to the fort. I then launched into a slightly edited version of Petronius' Satyricon with all the bells and whistles. My gamble paid off – Gawain hadn't heard the story before and laughed at my descriptions of crazed Priapic priestesses and drunken orgies. In this ghastly narrative I had, by some miracle, always managed to preserve my virtue despite some hefty petting on occasion. Gawain's suspicions suspended themselves while I wove the tale for him but I knew that it was only a temporary distraction.
Then I noticed Tristan staring at us from his bed – finally! I helped him drink some water, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to help him sit up. This sort of thing had become so normal that I didn't even question what it must look like – even though I'd only met the hateful man forty-eight hours ago. Then, as I lowered him back onto the pillow, he beckoned me closer with one hand. I leaned down, trying to communicate with my eyes that we were still being watched by Gawain.
"Should we tell Gawain the truth?" he whispered very softly in my ear. I pulled myself upright again, and looked at him for a moment – I knew that he trusted Gawain and said so. He confirmed it and I thought about it some more. Tristan's honour required me to remain in a state of near-perfect health so he could adequately repay the life-debt and then be rid of me. If he thought it was a good idea, then it wouldn't harm me.
So I sighed, hoping he knew what he was doing, and shrugged, "It's your life debt – do what you like," I stood, preparing to walk back to my bed, when Tristan grabbed me by the wrist. I tugged, trying to get away from that stare, but he hung on. I wasn't going to hurt him (yet), so I hung my head. You want to display your power to your friend? Fine. I'll play along. For now…
Tristan called Gawain over, and the knight joined us, dwarfing me with his bulk as he stood close to give us some privacy. This was just peachy – but at least Gawain had washed the stink of travel off himself.
"Will I be getting my answer?" he asked. I didn't visibly react, but I wondered just how much this sharp eyed knight had already noticed. Tristan still had a hold on my wrist, and the warmth of his hand somehow steadied me. I still wanted to sit down though – my legs were unaccountably shaky. It was up to Tristan now, he knew how much to tell Gawain – how to spin this so that the man wouldn't betray us. I could only stand there and pray to… well, Fortune's as good a force as any; that I'd be delivered from these knights as soon as possible. If they were the ones I was meant to spend my time with, I wouldn't follow their orders. Perhaps I ought to deliberately imperil myself, have Tristan save me, and then flee to some nice little place by the sea and become a fisherman's wife or a lady's maid – anything but this.
Tristan tugged at my wrist and I sat heavily on the bed beside him, grateful to prevent a potential collapse.
"It is to go no further than the three of us," he said severely. Gawain raised his eyebrows but after a protracted silence, he nodded.
"I swear," he said. Tristan let go of my wrist and grabbed Gawain's instead – a warrior's handshake. If only I could induce them to swear it in blood over their gods' altars… but this would have to do. And the fewer people who knew the better.
And so Tristan told Gawain how he had been attacked by the Woads; how I had stumbled upon the aftermath and saved him, treating him and managing to drag him to the nearest fort. Gawain listened attentively, his eyes flicking between us.
"Why were you there in the first place, wandering through the forest?" he asked me. I had no idea how to answer that. The absolute truth? Even Tristan didn't know where I came from. 'From another world' was too much of a cliché, even for me; plus I doubted they'd believe me. I shrugged.
"I doubt you'll believe me. But I'm new to these shores, although I've heard much of Britannia. But I promise, no one will come for me, I am quite alone in the world." It wasn't a total lie. Some of it was even the truth.
Gawain wasn't satisfied, "Yes, but why were you in the woods? Why agree to be Tristan's slave?"
Tristan answered the latter, sparing me from having to answer the former: "I owe him my life, and since he clearly doesn't know a thing about Caledonia, I said the first thing that came into my head which would keep him close."
Gawain nodded, satisfied, but then turned a very shrewd look on me. I didn't fidget under it, but did press my fingers against my lap. "You say 'him'…" he murmured to Tristan, even more quietly than before. "But I am not so sure…" he said, staring at me. I remained impassive – again, Tristan knew best in this situation (as much as I was loath to admit it).
Before Tristan could say anything, however, Gawain reached over and felt along my chest. I stiffened, too shocked to slap his hands away. I think my eyes nearly popped out of my skull.
"Hmm…" Gawain seemed unaware of my utterly transfixed state and continued his search for my breasts. Good luck to him, because they don't exist.
"G-G…" I tried to say something; but all blood had left my head. I was still paralysed.
Tristan did me a huge favour and hit Gawain. Once his hands were gone, I sort of snapped back to life and leapt off the bed. I still couldn't say anything… Tristan looked like he wanted to laugh, but self-preservation must have kicked in and he wisely kept quiet.
Gawain however, did laugh. "Well, if you are a girl, then Tristan's not keeping you around for sex," he said in a hoarse whisper. "Your face makes me think that perhaps you are – I've never seen someone go such an interesting grey colour before…"
"Alright you bastard," I relented, still not going near Gawain – the man was a first class pervert if nothing else. "But as far as everyone's concerned, my name is Kation – please endeavour to forget the one I first told you," I said, turning to Tristan. He nodded. "And since I've no skills to afford me a decent wage, I'll stay your slave if that's alright," I said. Tristan nodded again. Gawain groaned.
"You've no idea what you're letting yourself in for," Gawain groaned. "I'd be a great master – no savage pets, reasonable working hours, no odd habits that will give you nightmares –"
I interrupted, "Thanks, but Tristan is indebted to me – I do not have a similar contract with you, as disappointing as that is." Gawain shrugged, apparently unconcerned. "I will be his slave as long as he owes me his life." And didn't that sound just so messed up? Gawain thought so too because he started to laugh again. Tristan groaned, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.
"Get out, both of you," he growled at us.
I looked at him, wide-eyed and innocent. "But master," I said, not bothering with the deep voice, causing Gawain to start at the sound. "I've got a cut foot – I can't walk at the moment so I cannot go anywhere."
"What are you?" Gawain asked in bewilderment, his eyes travelling to my flat chest again. I crossed my arms defensively, glaring.
"Gawain, I'll buy you a drink later if you get him out of my sight," Tristan growled. "Take him to a tavern in the town or something,"
"Yes, 'master'," Gawain mocked, and stood before picking me up, bridal style.
To my credit I didn't squeak as I had done the previous night, but I did grab at Gawain's collar reflexively. The infuriating man chuckled. "You weigh nothing, Kat," He said as I was carried from the infirmary.
"So you are a girl, right?" Gawain said quietly, there was doubt in his voice.
I smiled. "Yes,"
"So… why…" he looked uncomfortable, but I knew what he was asking: why the flat chest?
Truth time.
"I'm just a freak… bad breeding or something. I don't know," I explained. "I just didn't… grow in certain ways."
Gawain looked at me then. "And that life story and the adventures in Greece… all lies?" he said, his voice just the wrong shade of deadly calm.
"I didn't know I would be confessing the truth so quickly," I argued.
To my amazement Gawain smiled, shaking his head as we walked through the gates of the fort and into the town beyond. "If you can make up stories like those off the top of your head then I think we'll be fine," he chortled. "This will be fun."
… For whom exactly?
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