Lee chapter ten
Jan. 10th, 2008 06:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maculategiraffe"Hello, yourself," said Holden when he was over his first surprise, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed. "Investigative reporter? Doing an exposé on the slave trade? I guess it's pure coincidence you showed up as a nurse on the night shift when the slave breakers brought in their newest acquisition."
"Not exactly," said Denys, blushing and clutching a notebook and binder to his chest as if for dear life. "Hi, Bran."
Bran, who seemed to have opted to be amused, lifted a hand. Yves, curled up beside him on the bed, was studying Denys with a reserved expression.
"Robin and I have done some work together in the past," Denys began, "so--"
"So he called Robin this morning," interrupted Valor, looking pleased as punch, "and said he'd met you and Alix. Right after I got your letter. Perfect timing, like I said. Hi, Yves!"
"Hi, Miss Valor," said Yves, smiling.
"Yves, I'm Denys," said Denys politely, and then, to Robin, "Hey, hon. Getting some good shots?"
"Was," said Robin without looking at him. "Lee, stop looking at Denys. I said look at that corner."
Holden turned in time to see Lee cringe and jerk back into the prescribed position as Robin took another picture.
"That's more than enough out of you, young woman," he said evenly. "Come here, Lee. No, don't kneel."
"I'm not finished," said Robin furiously, as the boy stood, still naked, before his master, head bowed, shivering a little. Holden cupped his chin and kissed him gently on the forehead. "That was very good, sweetheart. You did well. But now I want you to get dressed. I can't have you getting tired out; you're still healing."
Lee nodded, wide eyes fixed on Holden's face, then stepped forward and pressed his quivering body against Holden's in what would have been a hug if he'd lifted his arms. Surprised and delighted at the spontaneous gesture, Holden lifted his own arms and lightly encircled the boy with them, careful not to hurt his back.
"Good boy," he said softly. "That's my good boy."
He could almost feel Robin's hostile stare as he helped Lee into the tunic they'd taken off to apply his topical medicines, then drew him back into his arms and sat down on the bed with the impossibly light body in his lap. Lee laid his head down on Holden's shoulder, and Holden cradled him, glancing over at Bran, who was watching them intently. When Holden caught his eye, he smiled.
"Maybe you can photograph me for a while instead, Miss Robin," he suggested quietly.
"Don't call me that," Robin snapped. "It's Robin."
"You may call her Robin if that's what she wants," said Holden when Bran looked at him.
"Robin," said Bran, his voice betraying a faint echo of the contempt with which he'd said my lord to Dunaev. "Didn't you say you wanted to get some shots of me? We could do it in my bedroom, give Lee a chance to rest."
"Fine," said Robin ungraciously. "Come on, then."
"Would you mind supervising them, love?" Holden said to Yves. "Come get me if there's trouble." He added, looking at Robin, "If Bran gets upset, I'm calling this whole thing off. And you, Val, go back to your mother. You probably left her still trying to get a word in edgewise."
Bran smiled at Holden over his shoulder as the four left the room. Still cradling Lee, Holden looked up at Denys and shook his head.
"'Why would you buy a slave in such terrible condition, sir?'" he mimicked. "You disingenuous little punk. You knew damn well who I was."
"By reputation," said Denys, blushing again. "Yeah. Can I-- sit?"
"Sure." Holden nodded towards the head of the bed, where Bran had been sitting, and Denys sat down gingerly, still clutching his notebooks.
"Yeah," he said again, looking up at Holden rather apologetically. "The hospital's a great place, like you said yourself, to find the sick ones. The slaves who are in really bad shape, and the kind of owners who threaten them with-- you. I'd done some research. And I knew your daughter was an activist-- although I'd never met her until we spoke on the phone this morning. So when your names showed up on the board as the owners for the new slave patient--"
"How many strings did you have to pull to get that shift?" Holden asked.
"I just swapped with one of the other nurses. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to meet the slave breakers. Of course," he added, blushing again, "you weren't exactly what I was expecting."
"No?" Holden asked dryly.
"No. For one thing, I didn't expect you to stay all night."
"Someone had to," said Holden, puzzled.
"Owner or owner's legally appointed proxy," said Denys. "But you can appoint anyone as your proxy-- anyone free, I mean. You can just grab any nurse coming off duty and offer to pay him to sit with the slave all night, and you're covered. That's what most owners do."
Holden was appalled. "A stranger? But how could I trust a stranger with--?" He looked down at the slope of Lee's back in his arms, the vertebrae standing out in sharp relief under the cloth of the tunic.
"The proxy is liable for any loss or damage," Denys explained. "And I know that's not what you mean, Mr. Larssen. That's partly what I mean when I say you weren't what I was expecting. That and, well, Bran."
"What about Bran?" Holden asked.
Denys shook his head. "I've talked to slaves before. Working at the hospital, I try to be the proxy when I can, and when I can't, whoever does get the job is usually happy to give me half an hour alone with the slave. If worst comes to worst I slip him a fifty."
"And do what? Try to help them escape?"
"They're in no condition to escape," said Denys sadly. "And trying would just get them hurt worse-- and me thrown in jail. No. I just talk to them. And-- well-- tape record. I have-- transcripts." He patted his binder. "But I've never been able to get a word out of a slave with his owner in the room."
Holden smiled at the thought of Bran's behavior that first night, and Denys, catching his smile, said, "Yeah. Except Bran. Asking me all those questions, and talking back when I acted like a condescending ass. For someone who belonged to the slave breakers, he didn't seem--"
"Broken," Holden finished as Lee shifted slightly against him, nestling closer.
"Right. And then, well, there was the way you looked at--" He nodded at Lee.
"How did I look?" Holden asked when Denys hesitated.
"Well-- like it made you-- angry, I guess." Denys considered. "Not just upset or sad or whatever, but mad as hell, that this goes on, and is legal. You didn't seem okay with it. The way it seemed like a slave owner-- especially a slave trainer would have to be. You know what I mean?"
"Yes," said Holden quietly. "And no, I'm not okay with it."
"I didn't think you were." The boy had a good smile. "And then I met your wife, and-- well, I called Robin this morning. I hadn't talked to her since the last time we worked together, but I knew through the grapevine that she was involved with your daughter."
"I subscribe to the wrong grapevine," said Holden, and Denys laughed.
"Anyway, Valor had just gotten your letter," he went on, "so it seemed pretty serendipitous, and Robin said today wouldn't be too soon to get started-- so here we are."
"Here we are," Holden agreed. "So the news story was your idea?"
"Kind of," said Denys. "I do have a lot of material that I'd like to see published." He tapped his notebook again. "But initially, I really just wanted to talk to Valor and find out more about-- you." He blushed again. "I mean, what it is you really do. The slave breakers. Because it occurred to me that if you really wanted to-- You must know so many slave owners. And slave owners are mostly nobles, they have power, they can call in favors at the legislature, and they can afford court costs, it's-- you see what I mean? How many slave owners would you say you know who'd be opposed to letting that--" He nodded at Lee again-- "happen again?"
Holden examined the excited kid with growing interest.
"It isn't always that simple, Denys," he said gently. "I've got a filing cabinet full of names of people who would never do-- this." He touched Lee's clothed back gently. "But that doesn't mean they'd take kindly to laws regulating what they do do with their slaves. You're right that these people have power, that they can influence the legislature-- and they do. We have the laws we have-- and we don't have the laws we don't have-- because the people in power want it that way."
"But if they don't want kids getting hurt like this, then why--"
"Denys, the people I sell to will take good care of their slaves, and they'll click their tongues over men like Mikhail Dunaev. They won't invite him to any good parties. But laws saying he can't do that to a kid he bought and owns fair and square? Next thing you know there'll be laws against-- insert whatever the nice people do like to do with their slaves. Anyway, laws won't stop evil men like that from abusing their slaves; they'll just break the law."
"That's no reason not to have laws!" Denys protested vehemently.
"I agree with you, kid. I'm just explaining how these people think."
"Then we've got to change how they think!"
Holden grinned. "Oh, we do?"
Denys blushed yet again. "I mean-- I just mean-- someone should. And you know them."
"I'm not one of them, though," said Holden thoughtfully, stroking Lee's back; Lee lay so still Holden wondered if he'd fallen asleep. "I know them, yes, but--"
"You could convince them if you tried, Mr. Larssen," said Denys earnestly. "You have a lot of, uh-- presence."
Holden watched him thoughtfully. "Presence, huh?"
"You know." Denys gestured vaguely, blushing harder. "Charisma. And you're so-- articulate. I bet you could talk anyone into anything."
Holden was starting to wonder about all these blushes. Was the kid thinking of something besides the cause? Nothing like a wife and a harem of sex slaves to leave you befuddled as an adolescent by normal human flirtation. But it didn't seem likely a young abolitionist was trying to proposition an aging slave trader. That was what happened when one boy half your age demonstrated an embarrassingly deep and beautiful passion for you: you started thinking all the lads were gagging for it.
"So you think I should, what?" he asked. "Issue a press release? Or go around knocking on all my clients' doors with leaflets on the urgent need for regulation of slavery?"
"That last one would be better," said Denys gravely. "I think you'd be more effective in person."
Okay, that had definitely been a flirtatious look. Damn. Holden didn't want to hurt the boy's feelings, but he had a feeling it would be best to nip a doomed interest in the bud.
"Got to watch talk like that, kid," he said, making his tone easy and light but not overly friendly. "I'm enough of an arrogant cock as it is. Besides, I'm a married man."
Denys grinned. "She doesn't seem like the jealous type. And you've got--" His eyes flicked to Lee again.
"Slaves," said Holden. "Not lovers."
"But you treat them like-- I mean-- I heard you calling Bran 'love.'"
"Sure," said Holden. "But however I feel about them and however I treat them, they're still my slaves. I own them. That means I don't take lovers."
Denys looked puzzled but game, as if the conversation were in a code he felt sure he could eventually crack. "Why?"
Holden thought for a moment. "Have you ever felt jealous?"
"Sure," said Denys readily.
"Sure. You worry-- even if you know it's dumb-- that the person you love might like someone else better. Choose them over you. But imagine if the person being chatted up by some pretty young piece weren't just your lover, but your owner. Someone with absolute power over you. Someone who could take away everything you know and care about on an instant's whim, and you wouldn't have a hope of appeal. Your life would be over, and neither the law nor society would even recognize that you'd been wronged."
"Okay," said Denys quietly. "You mean that's how it would feel-- for them. If you-- Okay. I get it." He grinned again suddenly. "Hey, did you just call me a pretty young piece?"
Holden laughed so loudly Lee lifted his head, startled, and Holden drew the head gently back down onto his shoulder and stroked Lee's hair soothingly, still chuckling.
"What's a nice kid like you doing working with Little Miss Shock the Sensibilities?" he asked finally.
"Robin?" Denys looked pensive. "She's driving you up the wall already, isn't she? I don't blame you. But it's not that she doesn't care, Mr. Larssen-- about the slaves, I mean. It's more that she cares too much."
Holden raised an eyebrow.
"No, really," said Denys seriously. "She just-- she really, really hates slavery. It makes her sick, the idea of anyone having that kind of power over anyone else. And so the slaves make her sick, too. She can't help it. She wants to help them, she really does, and she does her best, but she can barely stand to look at them, knowing-- what they are, the position they're in. She has too much imagination, and if she let herself-- It's really hard on her as it is, doing what she does. It would be a lot easier if she just avoided the whole subject of slavery and tried to forget it existed. But she won't do that. She's got to do something about it." He smiled at Holden. "She's good people, really. Most people are, once you get to know them."
"How old are you?" Holden asked after a moment.
"Twenty-two," said Denys. "Why? Am I wise beyond my years, or so young and naive it breaks your heart?"
"Both," said Holden, as the door slammed again downstairs. "That must be Jer. Do me a favor, Denys. I don't want to leave Lee-- will you run downstairs and bring him up here, to me, before he runs into Saint Robin?"
"I'm guessing you won't take a fifty to let me be the one to stay with Lee," Denys quipped, rising. "Back in a sec, Mr. Larssen."
"Holden," said Holden, smiling back. "Thanks."
"Not exactly," said Denys, blushing and clutching a notebook and binder to his chest as if for dear life. "Hi, Bran."
Bran, who seemed to have opted to be amused, lifted a hand. Yves, curled up beside him on the bed, was studying Denys with a reserved expression.
"Robin and I have done some work together in the past," Denys began, "so--"
"So he called Robin this morning," interrupted Valor, looking pleased as punch, "and said he'd met you and Alix. Right after I got your letter. Perfect timing, like I said. Hi, Yves!"
"Hi, Miss Valor," said Yves, smiling.
"Yves, I'm Denys," said Denys politely, and then, to Robin, "Hey, hon. Getting some good shots?"
"Was," said Robin without looking at him. "Lee, stop looking at Denys. I said look at that corner."
Holden turned in time to see Lee cringe and jerk back into the prescribed position as Robin took another picture.
"That's more than enough out of you, young woman," he said evenly. "Come here, Lee. No, don't kneel."
"I'm not finished," said Robin furiously, as the boy stood, still naked, before his master, head bowed, shivering a little. Holden cupped his chin and kissed him gently on the forehead. "That was very good, sweetheart. You did well. But now I want you to get dressed. I can't have you getting tired out; you're still healing."
Lee nodded, wide eyes fixed on Holden's face, then stepped forward and pressed his quivering body against Holden's in what would have been a hug if he'd lifted his arms. Surprised and delighted at the spontaneous gesture, Holden lifted his own arms and lightly encircled the boy with them, careful not to hurt his back.
"Good boy," he said softly. "That's my good boy."
He could almost feel Robin's hostile stare as he helped Lee into the tunic they'd taken off to apply his topical medicines, then drew him back into his arms and sat down on the bed with the impossibly light body in his lap. Lee laid his head down on Holden's shoulder, and Holden cradled him, glancing over at Bran, who was watching them intently. When Holden caught his eye, he smiled.
"Maybe you can photograph me for a while instead, Miss Robin," he suggested quietly.
"Don't call me that," Robin snapped. "It's Robin."
"You may call her Robin if that's what she wants," said Holden when Bran looked at him.
"Robin," said Bran, his voice betraying a faint echo of the contempt with which he'd said my lord to Dunaev. "Didn't you say you wanted to get some shots of me? We could do it in my bedroom, give Lee a chance to rest."
"Fine," said Robin ungraciously. "Come on, then."
"Would you mind supervising them, love?" Holden said to Yves. "Come get me if there's trouble." He added, looking at Robin, "If Bran gets upset, I'm calling this whole thing off. And you, Val, go back to your mother. You probably left her still trying to get a word in edgewise."
Bran smiled at Holden over his shoulder as the four left the room. Still cradling Lee, Holden looked up at Denys and shook his head.
"'Why would you buy a slave in such terrible condition, sir?'" he mimicked. "You disingenuous little punk. You knew damn well who I was."
"By reputation," said Denys, blushing again. "Yeah. Can I-- sit?"
"Sure." Holden nodded towards the head of the bed, where Bran had been sitting, and Denys sat down gingerly, still clutching his notebooks.
"Yeah," he said again, looking up at Holden rather apologetically. "The hospital's a great place, like you said yourself, to find the sick ones. The slaves who are in really bad shape, and the kind of owners who threaten them with-- you. I'd done some research. And I knew your daughter was an activist-- although I'd never met her until we spoke on the phone this morning. So when your names showed up on the board as the owners for the new slave patient--"
"How many strings did you have to pull to get that shift?" Holden asked.
"I just swapped with one of the other nurses. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to meet the slave breakers. Of course," he added, blushing again, "you weren't exactly what I was expecting."
"No?" Holden asked dryly.
"No. For one thing, I didn't expect you to stay all night."
"Someone had to," said Holden, puzzled.
"Owner or owner's legally appointed proxy," said Denys. "But you can appoint anyone as your proxy-- anyone free, I mean. You can just grab any nurse coming off duty and offer to pay him to sit with the slave all night, and you're covered. That's what most owners do."
Holden was appalled. "A stranger? But how could I trust a stranger with--?" He looked down at the slope of Lee's back in his arms, the vertebrae standing out in sharp relief under the cloth of the tunic.
"The proxy is liable for any loss or damage," Denys explained. "And I know that's not what you mean, Mr. Larssen. That's partly what I mean when I say you weren't what I was expecting. That and, well, Bran."
"What about Bran?" Holden asked.
Denys shook his head. "I've talked to slaves before. Working at the hospital, I try to be the proxy when I can, and when I can't, whoever does get the job is usually happy to give me half an hour alone with the slave. If worst comes to worst I slip him a fifty."
"And do what? Try to help them escape?"
"They're in no condition to escape," said Denys sadly. "And trying would just get them hurt worse-- and me thrown in jail. No. I just talk to them. And-- well-- tape record. I have-- transcripts." He patted his binder. "But I've never been able to get a word out of a slave with his owner in the room."
Holden smiled at the thought of Bran's behavior that first night, and Denys, catching his smile, said, "Yeah. Except Bran. Asking me all those questions, and talking back when I acted like a condescending ass. For someone who belonged to the slave breakers, he didn't seem--"
"Broken," Holden finished as Lee shifted slightly against him, nestling closer.
"Right. And then, well, there was the way you looked at--" He nodded at Lee.
"How did I look?" Holden asked when Denys hesitated.
"Well-- like it made you-- angry, I guess." Denys considered. "Not just upset or sad or whatever, but mad as hell, that this goes on, and is legal. You didn't seem okay with it. The way it seemed like a slave owner-- especially a slave trainer would have to be. You know what I mean?"
"Yes," said Holden quietly. "And no, I'm not okay with it."
"I didn't think you were." The boy had a good smile. "And then I met your wife, and-- well, I called Robin this morning. I hadn't talked to her since the last time we worked together, but I knew through the grapevine that she was involved with your daughter."
"I subscribe to the wrong grapevine," said Holden, and Denys laughed.
"Anyway, Valor had just gotten your letter," he went on, "so it seemed pretty serendipitous, and Robin said today wouldn't be too soon to get started-- so here we are."
"Here we are," Holden agreed. "So the news story was your idea?"
"Kind of," said Denys. "I do have a lot of material that I'd like to see published." He tapped his notebook again. "But initially, I really just wanted to talk to Valor and find out more about-- you." He blushed again. "I mean, what it is you really do. The slave breakers. Because it occurred to me that if you really wanted to-- You must know so many slave owners. And slave owners are mostly nobles, they have power, they can call in favors at the legislature, and they can afford court costs, it's-- you see what I mean? How many slave owners would you say you know who'd be opposed to letting that--" He nodded at Lee again-- "happen again?"
Holden examined the excited kid with growing interest.
"It isn't always that simple, Denys," he said gently. "I've got a filing cabinet full of names of people who would never do-- this." He touched Lee's clothed back gently. "But that doesn't mean they'd take kindly to laws regulating what they do do with their slaves. You're right that these people have power, that they can influence the legislature-- and they do. We have the laws we have-- and we don't have the laws we don't have-- because the people in power want it that way."
"But if they don't want kids getting hurt like this, then why--"
"Denys, the people I sell to will take good care of their slaves, and they'll click their tongues over men like Mikhail Dunaev. They won't invite him to any good parties. But laws saying he can't do that to a kid he bought and owns fair and square? Next thing you know there'll be laws against-- insert whatever the nice people do like to do with their slaves. Anyway, laws won't stop evil men like that from abusing their slaves; they'll just break the law."
"That's no reason not to have laws!" Denys protested vehemently.
"I agree with you, kid. I'm just explaining how these people think."
"Then we've got to change how they think!"
Holden grinned. "Oh, we do?"
Denys blushed yet again. "I mean-- I just mean-- someone should. And you know them."
"I'm not one of them, though," said Holden thoughtfully, stroking Lee's back; Lee lay so still Holden wondered if he'd fallen asleep. "I know them, yes, but--"
"You could convince them if you tried, Mr. Larssen," said Denys earnestly. "You have a lot of, uh-- presence."
Holden watched him thoughtfully. "Presence, huh?"
"You know." Denys gestured vaguely, blushing harder. "Charisma. And you're so-- articulate. I bet you could talk anyone into anything."
Holden was starting to wonder about all these blushes. Was the kid thinking of something besides the cause? Nothing like a wife and a harem of sex slaves to leave you befuddled as an adolescent by normal human flirtation. But it didn't seem likely a young abolitionist was trying to proposition an aging slave trader. That was what happened when one boy half your age demonstrated an embarrassingly deep and beautiful passion for you: you started thinking all the lads were gagging for it.
"So you think I should, what?" he asked. "Issue a press release? Or go around knocking on all my clients' doors with leaflets on the urgent need for regulation of slavery?"
"That last one would be better," said Denys gravely. "I think you'd be more effective in person."
Okay, that had definitely been a flirtatious look. Damn. Holden didn't want to hurt the boy's feelings, but he had a feeling it would be best to nip a doomed interest in the bud.
"Got to watch talk like that, kid," he said, making his tone easy and light but not overly friendly. "I'm enough of an arrogant cock as it is. Besides, I'm a married man."
Denys grinned. "She doesn't seem like the jealous type. And you've got--" His eyes flicked to Lee again.
"Slaves," said Holden. "Not lovers."
"But you treat them like-- I mean-- I heard you calling Bran 'love.'"
"Sure," said Holden. "But however I feel about them and however I treat them, they're still my slaves. I own them. That means I don't take lovers."
Denys looked puzzled but game, as if the conversation were in a code he felt sure he could eventually crack. "Why?"
Holden thought for a moment. "Have you ever felt jealous?"
"Sure," said Denys readily.
"Sure. You worry-- even if you know it's dumb-- that the person you love might like someone else better. Choose them over you. But imagine if the person being chatted up by some pretty young piece weren't just your lover, but your owner. Someone with absolute power over you. Someone who could take away everything you know and care about on an instant's whim, and you wouldn't have a hope of appeal. Your life would be over, and neither the law nor society would even recognize that you'd been wronged."
"Okay," said Denys quietly. "You mean that's how it would feel-- for them. If you-- Okay. I get it." He grinned again suddenly. "Hey, did you just call me a pretty young piece?"
Holden laughed so loudly Lee lifted his head, startled, and Holden drew the head gently back down onto his shoulder and stroked Lee's hair soothingly, still chuckling.
"What's a nice kid like you doing working with Little Miss Shock the Sensibilities?" he asked finally.
"Robin?" Denys looked pensive. "She's driving you up the wall already, isn't she? I don't blame you. But it's not that she doesn't care, Mr. Larssen-- about the slaves, I mean. It's more that she cares too much."
Holden raised an eyebrow.
"No, really," said Denys seriously. "She just-- she really, really hates slavery. It makes her sick, the idea of anyone having that kind of power over anyone else. And so the slaves make her sick, too. She can't help it. She wants to help them, she really does, and she does her best, but she can barely stand to look at them, knowing-- what they are, the position they're in. She has too much imagination, and if she let herself-- It's really hard on her as it is, doing what she does. It would be a lot easier if she just avoided the whole subject of slavery and tried to forget it existed. But she won't do that. She's got to do something about it." He smiled at Holden. "She's good people, really. Most people are, once you get to know them."
"How old are you?" Holden asked after a moment.
"Twenty-two," said Denys. "Why? Am I wise beyond my years, or so young and naive it breaks your heart?"
"Both," said Holden, as the door slammed again downstairs. "That must be Jer. Do me a favor, Denys. I don't want to leave Lee-- will you run downstairs and bring him up here, to me, before he runs into Saint Robin?"
"I'm guessing you won't take a fifty to let me be the one to stay with Lee," Denys quipped, rising. "Back in a sec, Mr. Larssen."
"Holden," said Holden, smiling back. "Thanks."
