Free Slaves of the Mastery by William Nicholson Page B

turned and strode away. Zohon watched him go with a smile.
    ‘We shall see, my friend,’ he murmured to himself. ‘We shall see.’
    Kestrel now stepped out from the concealment of the horses and let the sentries discover her.
    ‘You! Halt! Stay where you are!’
    She did as she was told. Zohon, hearing the sentry’s cry, turned and saw her. He beckoned to the sentry, indicating that he was to bring her to him.
    ‘Dismiss the men,’ he instructed his officers.
    The lines of men, who had been standing rigid and motionless all this time, now broke up, and crowded round the mess tables, eager for their belated lunch. Zohon stood gazing into the distance,
speaking to Kestrel without looking at her.
    ‘What do you want?’
    ‘You said you would help me,’ replied Kestrel.
    ‘Why do you want my help?’
    ‘I’m alone. I have no one to protect me.’
    Zohon nodded, still without looking at her.
    ‘Do as I ask,’ he said, ‘and you will come under the protection of the Hammer of Gang!’
    He struck a nearby tree-trunk with his silver hammer.
    ‘I don’t speak of this –’ he held out the hammer, ‘but of myself. I am known as the Hammer of Gang. Under my protection, no one will dare to harm you.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Kestrel.
    ‘But if I am to help you, you must help me.’
    He turned and fixed her with his stern eyes.
    ‘I believe this marriage to be a mistake. Worse, a disaster. Why is the Johdila to be married to a man she has never met? Who is this man? Some undersized pygmy with a fat belly and black
teeth? Some ancient wreck with no hair and a squint? He could be. We know nothing about him. Is the loveliest, the sweetest, the most perfect creature in all the world to be sold to this monster
because her father hasn’t the guts to stand up to a petty dictator?’
    The Commander was almost shouting. Aware that he was making too much noise, he calmed himself down, and went on in a fierce whisper,
    ‘She should marry one of her own kind. She should marry a strong and healthy young man who is respected by her people, and who is powerful enough to protect her. Doesn’t she deserve
this, and more? Is she not the most beautiful young woman in all the world?’
    This question seemed to require an answer.
    ‘She is very lovely,’ said Kestrel.
    ‘Ah!’ Zohon sighed, and a faraway look came into his face. ‘I know it in my heart! I’ve never seen her face, but her loveliness – how can I explain? – her
loveliness calls out to me.’
    As he spoke of the Johdila’s loveliness he thought also of his own handsome looks. The two images were linked in his mind.
    ‘At home,’ he said, ‘there’s a secluded woodland pool, where I go to swim. After I’ve swum, I stand by the bank and let the water run off my body, and wait for the
surface of the pool to be still. Then I look down, and see my reflection.’
    He fell silent, contemplating the memory of his own manly form. Then he turned to Kestrel.
    ‘How do I look to you? Short? Tall? Plain? Handsome? Be honest.’
    ‘Tall,’ said Kestrel. ‘Handsome.’
    ‘I’m not asking for compliments, you understand. I want facts. Simple undeniable facts. I believe I am considered a fine figure of a man. I’m twenty-nine years of age.
I’m Commander of the Johjan Guards. These are facts. Would you not say, when you consider these facts, that I am a suitable consort for the Johdila?’
    ‘Oh, yes.’
    ‘Has she said as much to you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘But she might. Were you to ask her. Were you to lead the talk round to the subject of marriage, and husbands, and how it might have been better managed, and who might be a better choice,
and young men of her acquaintance. You follow me?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Kestrel. ‘You want to know if she’d rather marry you.’
    ‘Hush!’ Zohon was a little shocked to hear it put so plainly. ‘Some things are better understood in silence. These are dangerous matters.’
    ‘But it’s too late, surely.’
    ‘We