Dreamsnake

The stallion broke into a canter and moved smoothly across the field. Snake wished she too were riding through the morning with the wind on her face; she could almost hear the hollow drumming of hooves on earth, smell the fragrance of new grass, see glistening dewdrops flung up by her passing.

The stallion galloped across the field, mane and tail flying. Melissa hunched close over his withers. One of the high stone boundary walls loomed before them.

Snake caught her breath, certain the stallion was out of Melissa’s control. His pace never slackened. Snake leaned forward as if she could reach out and stop them before the horse threw the child against the wall. She could see the tension in him, but Melissa sat still and calm. The horse steadied and sailed over the barrier, clean.

A few paces later his canter slowed; he trotted a few steps and then walked, sedately, grandly, toward the stable, as if he, like Melissa, were in no hurry to return.

If she had had any doubts about the truth of anything Melissa had told her, they were gone now. She had not doubted that Ras abused the child: Melissa’s distress and confusion were all too real. Snake had wondered if riding Gabriel’s horse had been an understandable fantasy, but it was equally real and it made Snake understand how difficult it might be to free her young friend. Melissa was valuable to Ras and he would not want to let her go. Snake was afraid to go straight to the mayor, with whom she had no rapport, and denounce Ras for the twisted thing he was. Who would believe her? In daylight she herself had trouble believing such a thing could ever happen, and Melissa was too frightened to accuse Ras directly. Snake did not blame her.

Snake went to the other tower and knocked on the mayor’s door. As the noise echoed in the stone hallways she realized how early it was. But she did not really care; she was in no mood for conventional courtesy.

Brian opened the door. “Yes, mistress?”

“I’ve come to speak to the mayor about my payment.”

He bowed her inside. “He’s awake. I’m sure he’ll see you.”

Snake lifted one eyebrow at the implication that he might choose not to see her. But the servant had spoken the way a man does who worships another person beyond consideration for any other customs. Brian did not deserve her anger either.

“He’s been wakeful all night,” Brian said, leading her toward the tower room. “The scab itches so badly– perhaps you could—?”

“If it isn’t infected it’s a matter for the chemist, not for me,” Snake said coldly.

Brian glanced back at her. “But, mistress—”

“I’ll speak to him alone, Brian. Will you please send for the stablemaster and for Melissa?”

“Melissa?” It was his turn to raise his eyebrows. “Is that the red-haired child?”

“Yes.”

“Mistress, are you sure you wish her to come here?”

“Please do as I ask.”

He bowed slightly, his face again the mask of a perfect servant. Snake stepped past him into the mayor’s bedroom.

The mayor lay contorted on his bed, sheets and blankets in a tangle around him and on the floor. The bandages and dressing sagged away from his leg and the clean brown scab. His expression one of pleasure and relief, he scratched the healing wound slowly.

He saw Snake and tried to pull the bandages back up, smiling guiltily.

“It does itch,” he said. “I suppose that means it’s getting well?”

“Scratch all you want,” Snake said. “I’ll be two days gone by the time you reinfect it.”

He snatched his hand away and pushed himself back up on his pillows. Awkwardly trying to straighten the bedclothes, he looked around, irritable again. “Where’s Brian?”

“He’s doing a favor for me.”

“I see.” Snake detected more annoyance in his tone, but the mayor let the subject drop. “Did you want to see me about something?”

“My payment.”

“Of course—I should have brought it up myself. I had no idea you were leaving us so soon, my dear.”

Snake hated endearments from people toward whom she did not feel dear. Grum must have said the same words to her fifty times, a hundred times a day, and they had not grated the way this man’s did.

“I know of no town that refuses Mountainside currency,” he said. “They know we never adulterate the metal or short-weigh the coins. However, we can pay you in precious stones if you prefer.”

“I want neither,” Snake said. “I want Melissa.”

“Melissa? A citizen? Healer, it took me twenty years to overcome Mountainside’s reputation as a place of bonding! We free bondservants, we don’t take them.”

“Healers don’t keep bondservants. I should have said I want her freedom. She wants to leave with me, but your stablemaster Ras is—what do you call it?—her guardian.”

The mayor stared at her. “Healer, I can’t ask a man to break up his family.”

Snake forced herself not to react. She did not want to have to explain her disgust. When she did not reply, the mayor fidgeted, rubbed his leg, pulled his hand away from the bandage again.

“This is very complicated. Are you sure you won’t choose something else?”

“Are you refusing my request?”