The Eye Of God Part 6

Terin flinched. The memory of wind and sand battering at him roused his awareness of drying scabs, bruises that throbbed in time with the beat of his heart, and the sting of fresh cuts. He writhed and grabbed at the arm wrapped around his throat.

"You should be grateful for the chance at freedom," the convict muttered. "Up and walk!"

He wasn't aware of the moment when Catsu's arm slipped from his throat and seized the back of his neck. With a warning squeeze, Terin was hauled to his feet and shoved forward through the sludge.

"What's your number?"

Terin struggled to draw a breath to answer, and his collar flared around his throat, driving away the cold from his soaked clothes. "734152."

"And your name?"

"734152." The collar's warmth remained, the promise of punishment strengthening to the brink of real pain.

"I asked for your name," Catsu growled out.

"That is my name," Terin whispered. His number was his ident.i.ty, and the existence of his secret name belonged to his master and no one else. Fear warred with self-loathing until Terin longed for the collar to tire of him and wipe it all away in a wave of agony.

"A born slave, then? Hah. I'll find some use for you. Who was your master?"

Terin opened his mouth to reply, but he hesitated. The collar cooled, but he knew it was poised to strike him if he dared to speak his master's name. When the expectant silence grew unbearable, he whispered, "I can't say."

"An order? Even more curious. You're lucky I'm a kind master," Catsu murmured, his quiet tone chilling Terin more than the sewer water. "Why were you in the Arena?"

At Terin's silence, the collar's heat grew until his pained breath hissed through his teeth. He struggled to find wordsa"anya"that wouldn't violate the orders his master had given him.

Catsu's blunt fingernails dug into his throat beneath the collar. "Answer me!"

"I failed my master," he whispered, cringing from antic.i.p.ation of the pain from the collar. It didn't materialize, but that didn't stop his legs from quivering.

"Is that all? Fool of a master you had, then, wasting a slave like you in the Arena. Want revenge? I can help you. Wealth? I can provide it. Tell me, slave. Just how valuable are you?"

The man's grip tightened. Then, the pressure eased and Terin gasped for air, stumbling when he was shoved forward.

"Don't think you can deny me, slave. I've felt your collar's warmth. At least he knew a little of your worth. Your collar won't allow you to do anything that will purposefully risk your life. All I have to do is tell you to obey or I'll kill you, and you'll have to obey, won't you?"

Terin trembled from more than the cold of the water soaking him. A hand struck him behind his ear.

"Don't make me ask twice," Catsu warned.

The collar's punishment forced a yelp out of Terin. He jerked his head in a nod.

"What have you been ordered not to answer?"

"Who my master is. What my duty is. Anything other than my number. Anything about my master," Terin gasped out. The collar cooled, and he shivered at the tingling the punishment left in its wake.

Catsu laughed. "So self-important. Very well. Cooperate, and I won't demand the answers to those questions."

When the man said nothing more, Terin focused on forcing his feet to move fast enough to keep from being shoved. He stumbled over his own feet, and without Catsu's help, he would've fallen.

"If I didn't know better, I'd believe you a pleasure slave with how clumsy you are," Catsu grumbled. "Walk like you mean it, boy. Still, I shouldn't complain. I couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You'll do nicely."

Terin flinched at the man's pleased tone, kept his mouth shut, and tried to walk without stumbling. He weighed the odds of his escape against the strength of the man's hand on his throat. As though reading his thoughts, Catsu's grip tightened on him. Being shoved along every step of the way, he splashed through the sewers to a junction in the tunnel.

"Go right."

Terin obeyed.

"Do you have any questions?" Catsu asked. The grip on his neck eased and the man's hand slid down to press against Terin's spine between his shoulders.

Expectant silence spurred the collar to warn Terin again, and he shook his head.

"Well aren't you the good little slave," the man muttered. "This is far enough. Out of the water. Ech, so quiet. Even when asked, you don't have anything to say? Ask me a question, boy."

"Why didn't you kill me?" Terin sucked in a breath when the realization of what he'd asked hit him. It was one of the forbidden questions, one a slave was never to ask. His life and his death belonged to his master, and no one else. Clapping his hands over his mouth didn't take back his words or quell his fear of rebuke.

"No wonder your master didn't want to be known," Catsu muttered. The man shoved him forward a step. "I didn't because I didn't want to. That's all you need to know. Step lively, boy."

The collar remained inert, and without its warmth, the cold numbed him to everything but the incessant chatter of his teeth and the heat of the man's hand against his back.

Terin walked in a daze with Catsu's ever-present touch anchoring him to consciousness. If the collar tried to warn him of disobedience, the numbness enveloping him smothered its power.

A sliver of light appeared in the wall next to him. Terin scrambled back and sucked in a breath, and Catsu's arm once again coiled around his throat to keep him in place.

"Enough, slave," the man growled.

The light illuminated the shape of a door that creaked open. A shimmer played over the sewer wall and revealed a wooden door covering a hole in the stone.

"This wasn't in the plan," a deep voice rumbled from beyond the doorway.

Catsu dragged Terin through the door. Heat blasted him in the face as he crossed the threshold, and he recoiled from it, but he couldn't escape Catsu's hold on his throat to retreat back into the cold of the sewer.

"You know what they say. Plans change," Catsu replied.

A Citizen clad in purple pinched his nose, breathed out of his mouth, and shut the door. A streak of soot marred the man's pale-toned skin while locks of matted, dark blond hair plastered to his broad forehead. "You reek."

"These are the sewers, Brother. What were you expecting? I'm sorry, it seems I forgot to go roll around in the roses before I came in," Catsu replied in a mild tone.

"I was expecting you to use the pathways, not wade through it. What is the meaning of bringing this slave?"

Catsu's hand dropped on the top of Terin's head, and the man's fingers pressed hard against his scalp. Bowing his head to ease the strain, Terin focused on the white and black tiles of the floor, the pattern was broken by red splotches of paint. Were the marks supposed to represent G.o.d's roses? He squinted. If they were roses, they were painted by an artisan who'd never seen a plant in his life.

"Maybe that's why I asked you to install a bath down here," Catsu growled. "You brought clothes, didn't you?"

"I brought clothes for you, Zurach, not for some stolen slave. What were you thinking? At this rate, you'll ruin all of our plans," Emeric replied.

Terin flinched at the man's words and glanced out of the corner of his eye at the convict. Catsu a"Zurach?a" was smirking.

"Ah, it's good to hear my own name after so long. I don't know how that pathetic excuse of an obsessed man dealt with the name Catsu. So crude," Zurach said.

The Citizen sighed and pinched his nose again. "What about our plan? That slave isn't a part of our plan." While the Citizen didn't quite bellow, Terin winced at the man's tone.

"He is now. We can't let him go."

"Are you blind, stupid, or both, Zurach? That's a gold collar he's wearing. They'll come for him just to retrieve the cursed thing."

"So we take it off," Zurach replied, forcing Terin's head up by grabbing a handful of his hair and lifting. "He wasn't a part of our plans, but we'll make him a part of our plans. A very important part of them."

If Zurach had ever been a convict, if he had ever lived as the man called Catsu, all evidence of it was gone. The Citizen held Terin in an iron grip, and he stood with all of the arrogance of a true n.o.ble lord.

"If collars could be removed so easily, do you think the Emperor would tolerate the church's presence at all? We can't just remove it. We could just cut off the slave's head to take it off if necessary."

"Don't be such a prude, Emeric. He's the one who gave me the opportunity for escape. Isn't it the good and just thing to reward a service done?"

"Did you hit your head? He's just a slave."

Zurach's hand dropped to rest on Terin's shoulder. He shivered at the mingling of sweat and water dripping from his hair to run along his cheek and down his neck.

"He's a slave with a preservation collar, brother. He's been given some interesting orders, too. I'd be curious to learn just who his master is, one way or another. I think you'll be pleased with what I hope to do with him. He is, after all, just a slave."

Terin's hands shook with the desire to lash out at both of them. The collar's heat cut off his breath, but it didn't smother the anger growing within him.

"What's your plan, then?" Emeric asked.

"Have you stopped long enough to actually look at him? He's almost as talented as I am as a Speaker. With those eyes? He's perfect."

"His eyes?" Emeric reached out and seized Terin by his chin and forced his head up. "Ah, that's a nice shade of green."

"Not just any nice shade of green. While I think it's just hearsay and rumor, if the Church's stale teachings are right, it just helps our cause," Zurach said with laughter in his voice.

Emeric sighed. "While you make a good point, I don't see what's so funny. Fine. Fine! He's your problem. I'll see what I can find out about him and that collar. What's his name?"

Zurach poked Terin in the spine with a finger. "Tell him your number."

"734152," Terin whispered. The collar cooled at his obedience. He drew several long breaths before biting at his lip. His anger faded. Too many questions tripped over each other in his head, all of them circling back to the man who'd once been named Catsu, the Hero of the Arena.

"I hope you're right and that he'll work as a vessel. I dislike gambling on this, Zurach," Emeric said, letting go of Terin's chin.

"Trust me."

"734152. I'll remember that. With all of the excitement, there's a good chance I can learn something tonight. I expect a summons to the Palace soon enough. For the love of G.o.d, please bathe before I suffocate and your fumes contaminate the rest of my house."

Zurach let out a hearty chuckle. "Do something about the smell, slave."

His futile effort to resist the man's command ended with the flare of heat from the collar. With a sigh, he Spoke, "The Gates open for all men, but not all reach His Garden. Tread with care, for He watches over all." The scent of flowers and roses drowned out the stench wafting off of him and Zurach. A faint glow washed the room in a crimson radiance, but when Terin blinked, it was gone.

"Better?" Zurach asked.

"That's just as disgusting. Just bathe. Please." Muttering curses, Emeric marched out of the room, down a long hall, and out of sight around the corner at the end of it.

"Come. I trust you know how to serve as an attendant?"

Terin nodded and managed not to sigh. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Follow me and make yourself useful."

Instead of the claw-footed tub Terin had expected, a steaming pool dominated a blue-tiled room. Zurach's stare bore into him when he didn't step through the doorway.

"What are you waiting for? Strip and get in," the man snapped. "We don't have all day."

Terin swallowed and stood as still as he could. "The master bathes first," he replied, staring at the rippling pool. Light and water reflected on the polished marble overhead. Lanterns nestled in sconces along the wall burned with a pure white light born of Speech instead of fire.

"d.a.m.ned slaves." Zurach swept past him, the whisper of fabric dropping to the floor accompanied the slap of the man's bare feet.

Terin glanced back at the door leading to the foyer. If he could get back to the sewer, he could find his way to the city above. If he did, he wouldn't live long enough to face the Arena again. He bit his lip.

"Fine. I'll bathe first. G.o.d forbid anyone dare change the habits of a trained slave."

Warm water splashed over the pool's lip and washed over Terin's bare feet, leaving behind trails of yellowed sand and filth. Zurach let out a sigh and splashed again.

"There should be soaps in one of the urns, knowing my brother. Fetch some," Zurach ordered.

Terin frowned and twisted around. It took him a long moment to spot the urn tucked in the corner, patterned in the same tiles as the floor and walls. It stood as tall as his knee. Pulling the ceramic stopper free revealed bars of soap and bottles arranged on linens. Taking as many as he could carry, he hurried to the pool's side, bowed his head, and held them out.

Zurach grabbed Terin's wrist and pulled. The bars of soap flew from his grip and splashed into the pool. His feet slipped on the water-slicked tile, and he pitched forward. A hard, muscled arm cracked against his chest and drove the breath out of his lungs, holding him long enough for him to suck in a breath before dumping him into the pool.

Terin's cry cut off in a choked gurgle. A white rose inlaid among the blue mosaic of the pool's bottom shimmered beneath the ripples of the surface. Seizing his hair, Zurach yanked Terin's head up. A sharp blow to his back forced the water out of his mouth. Terin gasped and kicked his legs. Panic choked off his breath. While he knew how to swim, he couldn't move his arms, and it triggered his fear of drowning despite Zurach's grip on him.

With the fervor of a man possessed, Zurach sc.r.a.ped one of the bars of soap against Terin's scalp. He gasped at the sharp pain of pulled hairs and struggled to free himself. His slick fingers slipped off the man's hand.

"I can't stand filth," Zurach snarled, jerking Terin's head with each word. His breath hissed through his clenched teeth. As if Terin weighed nothing, Zurach dunked him beneath the water and pulled him out again. "With G.o.d as my witness, I'll scour it all off youa"the sand, the stench of that arenaa"all of it!"

Terin struggled to escape, clawing at Zurach's arm. A shake of the man's hand jerked Terin's head from side to side and rattled his teeth. Not even the heat of the water managed to drive out the chill of his fear as he was shoved beneath the surface and held there until his lungs burned. The strength flowed out of his arms and legs until he floated in water that darkened with each stroke of the rough bar on his skin and clothes.

Zurach pulled Terin up, slipped the bar of soap under his singlet, and scrubbed his back until he coughed and sucked in a breath.

"You'll thank me for this later," the man said, continuing to scrub. Terin hissed as the edge of the bar sc.r.a.ped against his cuts. It was as though Zurach tried to erase every memory of the Arena off of him and his clothes, until he ached from the scouring.

A finger prodded at his side and heat spread up his ribs. Terin gasped and flinched from the touch.

"At least that fool of a bronzeling didn't mark you too deep. It'll hurt, but it won't kill you." Zurach's hand lingered on his side, fingers probing at the cut. Terin's breath hissed through his teeth from the pain of it.

"Get out," Zurach said in a tired, dull voice. Terin scrambled to obey, crawling up the steps to the safety of the other side of the room. Every breath rattled in his chest as he panted. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. Still facing the pool, he backed toward the door.

Zurach slapped his hand against the surface of the water, sending ripples across the murky water. Clean water flowed through the center of the pool, driving the filth to a drain hidden in the depths. "Tell me, slave. Don't you want to destroy them for what they've done to you?"