Istanza

She went to the medical stores in the upper palace, fetched from the cupboard the healing salve that she had used on Silra before they had become lovers, smiled distantly at the memory and then remembered that she had let her dark self hurt Silra when she had lost her temper with Danielle. She took her time walking back to the lower levels and the dungeons, for she wasn't sure what she was going to do with the Koda all day long. By the time her footsteps had brought her back to the vault she still hadn't had any ideas.

The Koda's sobs had stopped when Leeann entered her cell, but she still looked miserable and pathetic, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot, her face pale and streaked with tears. She perched delicately on the edge of the small bed, most of her weight still on her quivering legs as she tried to keep her sore welts off the coarse fabric.

Leeann shut the door behind her and gave a quick glance to make sure there were no guards around, then trotted across the cell on her heels to sit down next to the girl. "I've got something here that'll help take the pain away." She whispered to the girl. "You don't have to say anything, but I'm sorry I had to hurt you. Bend over my knees and let me look at those wounds."

The girl said nothing, stared at the floor shaking, her hands clenched on her knees.

"Come on." Leeann soothed quietly, taking the girl's unresisting shoulders and pulling her across her lap. "Over my knees."

The girl coughed as the air was forced from her lungs, but she took her weight on her quaking hands, gripped Leeann's ankle firmly and kept quiet as Leeann looked at the grid of bleeding, puffy wounds on her buttocks. She hissed through her teeth when she saw how raised some of them were, how puffy and white some of the swelling had become, how some already wept a sticky clear liquid that had picked up fluff from the bedclothes.

She took a handful of cold salve from the jar and began to smear it gently into the girl's buttocks. She felt the hand at her ankle clench tighter, heard a muffled groan of pain, but did her best to ignore it and carry on. She had done this. She had caused this damage, this pain. She had been doing it for years, for far longer than she cared to remember. And in all that time, this was the first instance in which she had shown any compassion to a crying Koda.

What had they done to her?

Silra had been right. She would not have done this to someone before she had been taken as Koda. Yes, she had a fetish for causing pain; yes, a few relationships had failed because she had pushed it a little too far and scared people. But she had never caused this sort of damage unless it was consensual. She would never take a flexi-whip to a partner without her permission. It was the events of the past few years that had shaped her – what the Sect had done to her, how they had tortured her as Koda and then trained her as Istanza. She had been broken, and then re-forged into something else.

Silra had been right. She could beat it. She no longer needed it. She had Silra, and that was enough. Silra was there to take her urges when they got too much, and Silra was there to comfort her when she just wanted someone to hold. Right now she wanted to hold Silra so very much, just to sink into her strong and slender arms, to feel her warmth and her beating heart, to feel her breath on her neck. It made her feel stronger. It made her feel able to defeat the damage inside her.

She had only the buttocks of the beaten Koda for company. There was a time when rubbing salve into bleeding wounds on buttocks so pale would have had her hips quivering like barley stalks in the wind; it would have made her sink her nails into the wounds and dig at them until the squeals of pain deafened her, but that time had passed. Now it sickened her. She had caused this damage.

Leeann rubbed until the salve was thoroughly absorbed, noted how the swelling had already reduced. The Koda shivered, perhaps with cold, perhaps with pain or fear. She withdrew her hands and carefully pulled the girl upright by her shoulders until she was sat once more on the bed.

"Does that feel better now?" She whispered, trying to catch the girl's downturned eyes. She said nothing, but nodded rigidly. "Good. You'll dress in your garb, and work in the palace today. It'll be warmer than outside, it'll give you a chance to have a rest. You look like you need a rest."

The girl's bloodshot eyes locked with hers for a fraction of a heartbeat before snapping back to the flagstones again. In that snippet of a glance Leeann thought she snatched a moment's intimacy, a little understanding. She knew how the Koda felt. She had been there too. After a few week's hard labour and the constant fear of punishment it all got too much, and the Koda started to crack. The first to crack took the worst of the punishment, and as they grew weaker so their likelihood of punishment grew, until they were shackled and tortured every night, worked to exhaustion every day, and ultimately gave out completely, ascended – so the Book said – to the rewards of heaven and the highest ranks in the afterlife.

How many lives had been taken by her hand, Leeann wondered. She had probably not even noticed the first few, so overcome with lust was she at the time. Then she had started to have doubts, started to question her actions. She had asked to leave, and found her exits blocked. She had returned to her work, but the questions did not cease, so she had found a way to leave. She was going to put a stop to it. But the damage was too much to contain, and she had found herself doing the same terrible things all over again. She had had to come back to the Sect, to avoid the authorities and a life behind bars. Only now was she strong enough to leave – with Silra to guide and support her, with Silra to help her beat her addiction and learn to live a life resembling normality once again.

She only hoped that Julian and the other priests would not get suspicious while she was preparing her escape. Perhaps they already were. Of course they were. That's what the morning's interlude had been about. It was a test. She hoped she'd passed.

Perhaps the test was still in progress.

"I don't want you to think you're getting preferential treatment, Koda." She said, tightening her throat to put a hard edge to her voice, standing up and fetching the Koda's flannel garb to throw at her. "But I can't afford to lose you this early in the winter. I need all the hands I can get. This is recovery time. Make the most of it, and sort yourself out before tomorrow, because if you're not working at full capacity outside tomorrow you will be punished once again. If your bottom is still scarred I shall spare you the whip and use some of my penetrating tools instead. It's been a while since I last used the fibrous plug. Now get dressed and follow me."

She felt her stomach turn as she remembered the fibrous plug. It was a two-finger-thick knot of rough rope, like that from which the hellish g-string was made. As long as her middle finger, with the use of a smooth tube it could be inserted, well, anywhere she saw fit to insert it. Once inserted, it wouldn't come out without a great deal of chaffing. She used it rarely, but when she did it normally stayed put for a night – sometimes for the following day as well, if she was feeling particularly sadistic. She recalled with a sour taste in her mouth how she had watched a Koda waddling awkwardly around the fields with that thing inside her, cutting her with every step.

How could a human being do something so vile, so intrusive, so sadistically cruel to another?

The Koda dressed quickly and Leeann led her out of the dungeons, through the catacombs and into the middle palace, where great cast statues and monuments gleamed dully in the grey winter light from the high slit windows. They were as ancient as the stone on which they sat, as old as the mortar in the walls, and they were covered with a green-white powdery film of corrosion.

"You shall polish the monuments today, girl." She said. "Start with this one, do not leave it until it is done. Then you shall go to the next. I shall be watching your progress, and at the close of day I shall decide if you have done enough. Work now, you shall be brought food as the monuments are completed."

She turned, left the Koda to work. She would have to keep an eye on her; it was written in the Book that no Koda should be left to work unsupervised, but that did not mean she couldn't wander in the vicinity. Besides, she couldn't keep up the act in front of her for much longer – she had to leave, to let out a breath, to let down her guard for just a few heartbeats. There was still a long time until sundown, and she would have to remain firm until then; she would clearly need whatever breaks she could get.

The day passed slowly. At the forefront of Leeann's mind was the portable computer, still in its bag on the floor in her bedroom. She hoped Silra had enough sense to hide it under the bed or at least put it out of sight, in case anyone came to her room. Usually Istanza's rooms were cleaned every two weeks by a Koda supervised by the Istanza in question, bed linen changed at the same time, and so there was no reason for anyone to enter her room, but that did not mean that Julian or Elliot could not make reasons, if they wanted to. If they trusted her little enough to warrant additional inspections of her living quarters. If that was the case, then there would be no place to hide the computer – it would be discovered wherever it was stashed, and she and Silra would both find themselves in trouble. Well, perhaps Silra had been quick enough to throw the bag under the bed where at least it would not be so obvious, only visible to clearly searching eyes.

Second-most in Leeann's mind was the worry that her work was being monitored, or perhaps that the Koda would betray her somehow, intentionally or unintentionally revealing to her superiors that she had shown compassion, that she had deliberately given the girl a rest when she was about to break. That sort of thing could get her into a lot of trouble. If they knew she was breaking, if they knew that an Istanza was not doing what she was employed to do... Well, Julian had already made it quite clear. She would never leave Krakus with their permission; if she were to become a liability, she would simply cease to exist.

Eventually the shadows grew long, and after a day of worry and anticipation Leeann led the Koda back to her cell, gave her another quick application of the salve while she stood – rougher this time, deliberately making it as brisk and painful as possible without being sadistic, no digging of nails but plenty of vigorous rubbing where a gentle motion would have done just as well. She finished up, gave her a sharp slap, just in case anyone happened to be watching or listening, and lowered her garb. She left the cell wordlessly, locked the door, and went to check up on the rest of the Koda.

She met them half-way back to the cells, being marched there by their drivers. She exchanged a few quick words with the lead driver, who told her that one of them had failed to perform to satisfactory standards. She nodded, took over, made quick work of locking them away, used an old bamboo cane on the lowest-performing Koda, but couldn't find the strength to put her worst into it. The fizzing in her sex when cane hit flesh was gone, the thrum in her chest with each of the girl's yelps too distant to be felt. Whatever it was that made her Istanza, it was dying. It was all but dead, and Silra had killed it.

Her feet carried her quickly back to her cell, which she found tidy and ordered. Silra was there, but the computer was gone.

"It's under the bed." Silra said almost immediately. "I checked it out. It works just fine. We've got net access."

"Good girl. Pull it out, let's check out my bank account." She replied. This was yet another worry at the back of her mind. What if the account had been closed? What if the authorities had traced her crimes on the ship back to that account, after she had tortured that poor girl and fled back to Krakus? What if... No, it couldn't be. She had used several different identities. The account had been provided as part of the deal with the fixer who had arranged to get her from the palace to the city and from the city to safe space, far away from Krakus. So the account should be safe.

But what if he had emptied the account? He would have had the full details. If he had...

No, she had changed the password almost immediately, before she'd even transferred her funds. It must still be there.

She sat on the bed, the computer resting on her knees. Silra's hand touched her shoulder. The computer booted. It took her only moments to connect, the account number and password coming straight from her memory in spite of the time that had passed since she last used them. Data loaded, account summaries displayed. Silra's hand gripped her shoulder tighter. The funds were still there.

The funds were there.

She let out a long breath, unaware that she had been holding it so long.

"We've got it. We can do it. We've got the funds. Silra, we've got the funds! We can do it!"

Silra's hand left her shoulder, her footsteps brought her around until their eyes met. Her slender fingers took the computer from Leeann's lap and deposited it carefully on the floor, before she took its place, sitting astride Leeann's closed thighs, head down, eyes up. Leeann stared into them, so big and beautiful, even when they were narrowed behind a cheeky smile. "Who's a rich Mistress?" Silra purred quietly.

"Who's a lucky Mistress?" Leeann replied, smiling, leaning forwards until her nose and forehead touched Silra's.

"Lucky to be rich?"

"Lucky to have such a good girl at my side."

"On your lap."

"In my arms. Kiss me."

Silra wordlessly obeyed, tilted her head, raised her chin until their lips met, opened, tongues entwined. Leeann tried to hold herself back, but as the worries of the day dissolved she felt herself charged with a hunger for Silra. Her arms loosened, her hands wound up Silra's back, tracing her spine until they found her neck, massaged her firmly, gripped her, embraced her, squeezed her. Her heart pounded, and not just with arousal but with something deeper, something more powerful. She could not get enough of Silra's lips, continued to devour them even as her head swam in the giddy heat rising from her chest.

Silra broke away, gasped quietly, embraced Leeann with roaming fingers, brought their cheeks together. "It's definitely time to start thinking about that L-word." She whispered into Leeann's ear.

Leeann grinned widely, was glad that her face was behind Silra's shoulder so that her sudden blush was not visible; but she did not want to be the first to say the words properly. She wasn't sure why, because it felt right – but they were dangerous words. Better to wait until Silra said them first, even if she would have meant them now. "I'm thinking of a C-word." She whispered in reply.

"What's that, Mistress?"

"Cunnilingus."

Silra pushed away from her, a wide grin on her face. "Well if you insist, Mistress. Take off your clothes and lie back."

"Actually, my girl, I was thinking it would be for you. Now lie on the bed, there's a good girl, and grip those bedrails firmly, unless you want to float off the bed, because Mistress has got a real treat for you, young lady!"

"Ooh, young lady! I like that a lot!"

"Get on the bed!" Leeann purred. It was time to repay all those favours.

Leeann lay on the bed, Silra curled on top of her like a kitten, holding her in a delicate embrace. She was tired, a little giddy from lovemaking, but her head still span around like a top. She thought about the computer, about the Koda she had beaten, about Julian and Elliot interrupting her schedule, and about Silra, breaking into the Outer Court.

"Silra." She said, trying to make her voice soft, although it seemed to have a hard edge to it that she couldn't control. "How did you get into the Outer Court?"

"I told you. Locks aren't a problem for me."

"But... Weren't there people there?"

"Not really. It was night, remember? It was mostly quiet. I just snooped around, kept out of sight, wandered until I found what I was looking for."

"What's it like in there?"

"You've never been in there?"

"Three times. When I came, when I left, and when I came back. But I didn't stop either time. Straight through, no questions. They don't like questions. The priests, that is."

"It's nothing special. Like a big circle of store rooms, offices and barracks. It's dark at night, nobody does much after hours. There was a tavern of some sort, I could smell the beer. It sounded busy, so I kept away from that area, went hunting for the offices. That's where I found the computer."

"Won't somebody miss it?"

"Not too soon, I hope. There were a lot of computers, but I got this one from a cupboard at the back of an office. Looked like it hadn't even been opened in a while. The bag was covered in dust, it left an empty space on the shelf from where I took it. I scraped some dust from off the top of a cabinet to sprinkle there, just in case anyone opened the cupboard, but I don't think it'll be missed for a while, at least. Anyway, there's bound to be some theft inside the Court itself, I doubt they'd point the finger of suspicion this way."

"Alright. You did good, my girl."

"Thank you, but I wasn't looking for your praise. I've done this stuff before. It was easier than whoring myself out on the off-chance I'd find someone decent enough to keep a deal. I've no experience of that."

"No experience of whoring yourself out?"

"Actually I meant no experience of decent people, but that too, I guess. Although, come on, what woman hasn't used sex as a weapon at least once in her life?"

"I guess you're right." Leeann sighed distantly. "What was it you did?"

"Who was it I screwed, do you mean?" Silra replied, her voice perhaps a little insulted.

"Sorry, no, I meant before you came here. I asked you before but you kind of avoided giving an answer."

Silra was silent for a moment. "I don't really think you're ready to know."

"You did something bad? Silra, you're making love to a torturer. You've been making love to a murderer. Nothing you could have done could disgust me."

"You don't have to push me." Silra intoned, an edge like a knife on her voice.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"But you do, don't you? You ask and you question, like you want to understand everything, but there are some things you can't understand. There are some things you shouldn't understand."

"Silra, there's no need to be..."

"I think I'm going to sleep now." Silra said, rolled away from her, stopped at the opposite side of the bed.

"Yes." Leeann replied, her voice deliberately as cold as ice even though her chest burned like fire. "Perhaps that would be a good idea."

What had gotten into her? What was it she had done? Why was she so tetchy about her past?

And why get so angry about it? Leeann hadn't wanted to pry, she hadn't wanted to upset her, she was just interested, and for no apparent reason Silra had turned on her, scorned her, left her to sleep alone on her side of the bed. It wasn't the angry voice that hurt, it was being left alone. Being abandoned at night. She didn't like being hurt; it made her angry.

She turned brusquely, pulled the silk over her cold shoulders, thumped her head onto the pillow and glared at the shadowed wall. Sleep would come eventually, but she knew it might be a long time before her eyes finally drooped closed and she was free to escape the anger in her heart.

* * *

Silra was still not talking to her in the morning. Leeann had opened her tired eyes and almost immediately felt the knife-blade in her heart at having been scorned by her lover, but she was not so angry that she was beyond an attempt at reconciliation. She had tried to make eye contact, but Silra remained motionless, asleep or pretending to be so, facing the far wall. Leeann had even walked around the bed to check, but she had turned swiftly as she did so, breathing angry hisses through her nose, faced the opposite wall. So Leeann had thrown her arms in the air, dressed quietly, and left for work.