Never Trust the Wicked

Part Three

"Now old Mister Jefran," Nana was saying, "He don't like them pork pies Haral is selling, but Missus Jessie she's gone and set her teeth in 'em. Can't get enough, she can't. Ordered some 20 of the things and Mister Jefran is just about set up enough to put her out the door. Clarine swears they was arguing near till midnight. About pork pies if you can imagine!"

"That old pisser would argue the balls off a bull if he could." Samod grumbled, reaching for a piece of bread.

Nana smacked his hand with her serving spoon before returning to her work.

"You can just wait till I'm done serving." She said. "And watch your mouth or you'll be eating nothing but soap."

"I am an anointed Knight." Samod protested.

"You could be the King of Buchan himself and you would still be seated at my table, minding your manners. Next time I'll use the meat prongs, see if I won't."

Agran hid a smile behind his hand. Nana had been in his service from the day he had sworn his vows, but she had known them both longer than that. They had been fresh off the farm and barely more than boys when she had found them half starved under her cart. With a stern lecture about 'propriety' and 'good ol' common sense' she had ushered them inside and feed them two bowls of hot stew each. She made them wash their own dishes, and then themselves, as 'she wouldn't have their filth messing up her good clean straw' as she made them a bed in the back of the wagon. Before the end of the week, they were driving her cart across town for her, delivering bread, and bedding down at night in the back of her kitchen. In the 20 years since, Samod and Nana had bantered their way through every meal.

Agran's eyes fell on the girl beside him. She was almost unrecognizable as the girl who had first arrived. Dark hair, washed and brushed, fell past her shoulders and hung halfway down her back. Her face, scrubbed clean of dirt, now showed a smattering of freckles. She was filling out too. A few months of three square meals a day and she looked almost like any other girl her age. If you didn't pay too close attention to her eyes anyways. There, sometimes a shadow lingered. Her face impassive, she stared at her plate and waited for Nana to finish serving. When she looked up and saw him watching, she smiled. Her smile was unnerving. Like the smile of a doll. Hollow, empty. Agran smiled back, but inside, he felt cold.

 ***                                                            

Sabina helped Nana carry the dishes from the table and down the hall toward the kitchen.

"Here, child." Nana said, handing her the wash basin. "Fetch the water and be quick about it."

"Yes ma'am." Sabina said.

Sabina flung the side door open and hurried outside to the well. She drew a deep breath. She loved the smell of night when fires burned in nearby houses, and you could almost forget the stink of human refuse flowing down the gutters of the street. Agran was wealthy enough to live uphill and by nightfall, the worst of the stench had faded.

'Better than goat shit, in any case,’ she thought.

Resting the basin on the ground, she yanked at the wooden cover that hid the opening of the well. It was tricky and prone to giving splinters if not done right. She set the cover down beside the basin and tipped the bucket in. It was dark enough she couldn't see past the shadows at the bottom of the well, but she heard the splash as the bucket hit the water. She gave it a couple minutes to sink beneath the surface before  she reached for the rope to haul the bucket back up. A grunting noise to her left gave her pause. She left the bucket where it was, hiked her skirts to her knees and crept towards the sound. A soft moan came from the back of the garden. A woman's moan. There was movement and Sabina knelt behind a row of tomatoes. A flash of white. A woman with her skirts pushed to her waist. Bare legs showing above her stockings. A man was busy inside her.  The woman turned her face so Sabina could make her out in the moonlight. Malia. The cobbler's wife. The man groaned and clutched at the dirt. His back was to her, but she would know him anywhere. He shuddered and went still. Sabina crept back through the rows of cabbages and carrots until she slid up beside the well again. With a tug on the rope, she hastily filled the water basin and returned through the little door to the kitchen.

Nana frowned at her.

"Took you enough." She said. "Did you dawdle?"

"No ma'am." She said. "Had trouble with the cover."

Nana grunted. "Well that I believe. Been telling Argan to fix that for years, I have. Here, give me that basin, child, and go bring this jug of wine to the men."

Sabina took the wine to the parlour where  the men had retired.

Argan looked up as she entered.

Smile, she told herself, and she smiled. He smiled back. She poured him a glass of wine and held it out for him. He took it with a murmured thanks.

"Where's Samod?" She asked, though she already knew.

"Out," Argan answered, “for a walk. He enjoys the evening air after a good meal."

She saw again, the memory of flesh entwined and a slow flush crept up her cheeks. Argan eyed her with concern.

"Are you well?" He asked her.

"Yes." She said, perhaps a touch too quick. "Just warm. From the kitchens."

"It is a trifle warm in here, isn't it? It will be a hot summer, I think."

He rose and opened the window latch. A cool breeze entered the room.

"Better?" He inquired.

Lie, she told herself.

"Much." She responded.

Smile.

She smiled.

When Samod entered, she poured him a glass of wine. He took it without a word and seated himself in a chair. As Argan spoke of plans to ride west over the summer, to view fields left to him by his father, Sabina stood holding the jug of wine, refilling their cups when they emptied. Samod eyed her over the rim of his glass, but said nothing to her.  He turned his attention back to Argan to answer a question and ignored her for the rest of the evening. As the night wore on, Sabina's eyelids grew heavy. When she almost dropped the jug, Argan glanced in her direction and then out the window.

"Goodness, child." He said. "I didn't realize it was so late. Off to bed with you. Here, give me that wine."

She stifled a yawn with her fist.

"Thank you, Sir." She said.

Samod stood and stretched.

"I too should be going." He said. He waved Argan back down when Argan made to rise.

"No. No, my friend. I can find my way out. I've done it plenty enough."

Sabina left the room with Samod behind her.

"Good night, Sir." She said to Samod as she turned to head up the stairs, but his hand lashed out and caught her tightly by the wrist.  

He tugged her back to face him.

"Did you like watching?" He asked.  

"I don't know what you mean." She lied.

He jerked her closer. She could feel his breath on her face.

"Don't lie" He snapped. "You might have Argan fooled, but I know what you are. I saw you behind the tomatoes. Did you get a good eyeful?"

He pulled her closer still. "Did you like what you saw?"

He drew her hand towards him and laid it on himself. His grip moved to her hand where he forced it to squeeze.

She locked eyes with him and said nothing.

Footsteps in the hall overhead brought his gaze upward. He released her and shoved her backwards.

"Keep your mouth shut." He said before turning to flee out the door.

"Come to bed, child." Nana said from the top of the stairs. She stared after Samod, her face unreadable.

Sabina wiped her hand on her skirt and made for the stairs.

"Yes, ma'am."