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Mask of Pain Ch. 01

By: Diezi



The Sulai are a dying race, quickly becoming unable to reproduce with their own kind. 

Supposedly the Sulai left their home world to scour the universe, looking for compatible species with which to breed and eventually fix the flaws in their own genetics that had led to the tragedy. In time their search brought them Earth. 

The armies of Earth fell to the Sulai's superior weaponry within six months of the aliens' arrival. The Sulai troops swept through our cities, killing any who displeased them and captured select others for labor and breeding purposes. 

As a result, a new generation of hybrids was born near the end of the very first year of their occupation and in rising numbers the two decades following.

Most Sulai hybrids could pass for human if it weren't for their rough textured skin. Full-blooded Sulai have thick, coarse, snowy white skin. The hybrids, however, can have a myriad of light colors to their skin, consistent with the blending with humans of differing Earth cultures. 

The eyes of Sulai range in color from light brown to dark red, which was the color of the Sulai's eyes who tore me from my mother's arms at the slave camp when I was sixteen and threw me into the transport with nearly three dozen other crying girls. 

Hardly considering myself pretty, I was surprised to find out that I and the others had been chosen as potential mistresses to Sulai still residing on the enormous mother ship in orbit around Earth. We were transported off planet to the ship where we were herded to a detention center. Then we were kept there, with little to keep us sane until we were chosen as potential mates. 

Those who were most fertile and attractive were escorted away first, of course. I stood silent through many inspections, never to be chosen or given a second glance. I expected this because I knew I was plain in appearance.

As time passed, new girls were brought to join those who remained. I took it upon myself to look out for them and try to instill a sense of rebellion for our captors. Despite my well intentions, I often fell victim to the jokes and criticisms of the girls. They thought my attitude came purely from the shame of not being chosen as a mate after nearly three years of confinement. I hardened myself to their words and glances, glad that my fate had yet to include the forceful taking of my body for a Sulai's pleasure.

"But Isleen," Daphne said one morning as the familiar debate raged on, "I've heard the mistresses aboard the ships get so much more freedom than those on the planet. Why do you not wish for a mate? They don't all treat humans badly. Some women even acquire some affection for their masters."

I shook my head and dismissed her words with a wave of my hand. "I think too many of you have forgotten the stories about the way life was before the Sulai. It wasn't that long ago that human men and women could pick their own mates and live under their own rule. Now we are only slaves to the whims of our conquerors."

Sewing, singing and dancing were among the few activities available to us in the detention center. I'd quickly found myself wanting more and looked for materials to be used for writing and drawing. Once they were completed, I shared my stories and pictures with the others to lighten their moods. Many had never learned to read and knew little about art. I tried to teach those who were curious when the guards were not watching us too carefully. 

In fact, I became well-versed in the habits of the guards, learning their routines and habits as well as a formidable vocabulary of the Sulai language, which sounded to me like a bad mix of some Nordic tongue and basset hound. Though I learned to understand many of their words, my few attempts to speak them quietly to myself sounded quite repulsive.

Through eavesdropping, I often heard interesting tidbits about the comings and goings around the mother ship. The leader of the Sulai was a pure-blood named Barev. He'd been one of the first to choose a human mate after the invasion and had a son named Solon who was supposed to be twenty years old. At that point, I'd never seen either of them, but heard plenty through the guards, who seemed obsessed with every move Solon made. As the stories went, Solon's human mother died in childbirth and the baby was so deformed, that Lord Barev ordered him covered from all eyes. He continued to raise the child, but never allowed anyone, say for a loyal doctor to see Solon's body.

Solon's black and gold uniforms and broad, metal mask were said to be as menacing in appearance as his nature. He was a well-trained warrior and general in his father's army, which continued to make war with small bands of resistance fighters on the planet. The guards said that he had no pity or mercy and would strike at any Sulai or human that dared to show him disrespect.

It was a few days after my nineteenth birthday when I got my first look at Solon. The guards stood a little straighter that morning and lowered their voices to whispers because Solon was making a surprise inspection. A noticeable wave of tension swept through the guards just before the gold and black-clad figure entered our domain. All went silent- even the girls, who knew little to nothing of this masked Sulai. The facilitator walked a full step behind Solon, calling for all of us to stand and move to the inspection lines, causing even more confusion among the women who were frightened of this imposing, masked figure.

I stepped to the line, knowing from the snatches of whispered conversation, that the guards doubted Solon was here for a mate. They believed that something had compelled him to look into the happenings at the detention center, which was not a good thing as far as the guards were concerned. Lord Solon started forward, walking along the line of women, his head turning from side to side as he evaluated the people and surroundings. 

In turn, the women dropped their gazes to the floor, perhaps too fearful to look upon the sleek and faceless mask. I noted that the guards also looked away, but not as dramatically as the women. I could sense the rising fear in the room as he moved through it and couldn't help feeling affected...and intrigued.

I pondered the tension, wishing I had a piece of paper to capture my thoughts in writing. Perhaps I could remember the emotions and pen them later- even dare to compose a poem or short tale about a villain as imposing to his enemies as Lord Solon was to his Sulai guards.

"Isleen!" a frantic whisper called out from beside me and I blinked out of my distractions to find I was staring directly at the broad, black and gold mask. I felt a wave of cresting panic in my chest, but did not tear my eyes from the metal. There was a long pause, during which my stare did not falter. 

"Remove eyes from Lord Solon!" the facilitator bellowed in shaky English. "You be respect." Then the facilitator switched to Sulai to speak urgently to Solon. "She is a troublemaker, my lord. I will have her beaten immediately."

My eyes went wide as the meaning of his alien words came clear in my mind. It had not occurred to me that they looked away from him as a show of respect. I would have thought it quite the opposite.

"My lord, please, I meant no disrespect." The words were barely out of my mouth and I knew I had made another mistake. The features of the facilitator flared with shock and anger. I assumed a similar look adorned the covered face of Solon.

"How dare you speak to Lord Solon!" the facilitator roared in Sulai, too angry to care that I shouldn't know what he was saying. "You will be beaten until your clothes are stained through with your own blood." He waved the nearest set of guards forward to grab me by the arms and long braid. I struggled uselessly against their combined strength.

"No, please!" I begged, training my eyes on the mask. "I didn't know."

The guards dragged me off the line and toward the doors which led to the containment chambers. They struck me about my head and upper body as I continued to fight the forward movement. Just before I was out of the room, I heard the gasps and fearful cries of the other girls and wondered if I would survive to return to them.

The guards beat me severely, causing me to pass out. From what the rumors said, they did not stop until I was on the brink of death. I awoke in the detention center's medical lab to find I'd lost nearly a week of time and sustained serious injuries that required surgery. I couldn't understand why they had put forth the effort to save my life. Wasn't it blatantly clear that no Sulai wanted my company?

I was eventually returned to my shared room where the other girls eagerly attended me. Their romantic notions of loving masters were shelved for the time being. We discussed topics of art and music instead while we scrounged up cloth to make me a new dress since the old one was too bloodied to be presentable. Daphne sat at my right, helping to pull my needle as my poor fingers were still sore and stiff. I know she happily would have taken the task from me all together, but I felt a sort of defiant dignity in my work. 

An older Sulai dressed in the familiar, crisp, white tunic of a physician flanked by guards came into the commons area. He approached, gesturing me forward to be inspected. I stood in my borrowed dress and walked over to him, trying to keep any sign of discomfort or embarrassment clear of my bruised and scab-covered features while he poked and prodded many of my healing wounds.

"Are you certain this is the one he asked for?" one of the guards asked the doctor in Sulai, looking skeptical. 

"Indeed she is," was the cool reply of the physician.

"There are much more attractive females to be had," the other guard said, seeing no reason to guard his words as they didn't know of my aptitude for understanding their language.

"Never mind that," the physician said sternly. "Lord Solon has chosen, with his father's approval, of course."

It was very difficult to keep my features neutral as I heard these words. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? 

"What's going on?" I asked, forgetting to keep the contempt from my voice.

The guards glared as the doctor answered me in the clearest English I had ever heard spoken by a Sulai. "You will be serving Lord Solon."

"I don't understand. Why would he choose me?"

"It is not my place to ask such questions. Nor is it yours. You will do as you're told. Now tell me your name," he demanded.

"Isleen," I said, hardening my gaze to show my anger. 

His dark eyes scrutinized my features, noting my defiant expression. "Come along," he ordered sternly, immediately turning away to leave the guards to make certain I obeyed. 

With a last look over my shoulder at the wide-eyed girls collected around my new dress, I fell into step with the guards. We followed the doctor out of the detention center and to his private medical lab.

"You may go," the doctor quickly told the guards as they escorted me into the lab. He did not wait for any acknowledgment of their dismissal; the doctor began collecting instruments from various metal-covered drawers and cabinets and waved me toward the examination table.

"What's going on?" I asked again, moving slowly. The guards had gone and I was feeling a bit braver, with the exception of where I had been led.

"Lie down," he said shortly, not even looking my direction.

I stopped beside the table, examining the cool metal surface and restraints with disdain. I could tell that my attitude toward the Sulai had taken a darker turn. After all, it seemed the most I had to lose was my pitiful life. "No. Tell me what is going on."

The lab's doors opened. We both turned to look as the imposing figure of Lord Solon stepped into the room. Panic flared in my chest at the sight of the black and gold mask and I instantly froze in place.

The doctor greeted Lord Solon with a deep bow and averted gaze. 

"Why isn't she ready?" Solon asked in a deep, authoritative voice. He used his native tongue, obviously directing the question to the doctor.

"She's being difficult," the doctor answered in Sulai, sounding irritated.

Lord Solon's tall figure stepped toward me. I backed away quickly, keeping a careful eye on both of them as I moved around the table. Either direction, I was blocked from reaching the door.

"You're only making this harder on yourself," the doctor said in English.

"Come here," Solon commanded in Sulai. The doctor was quick to translate the lord's words for me, but was cutoff. "No," Solon said instantly. "There's no need, Gahn. She understands the Sulai tongue."

The doctor's eyes grew big for a moment before realization set in. "I see."

I saw no way to effectively avoid capture, but wasn't about to willingly submit to them either. Lord Solon started around the table, moving with great speed despite his impressive size; and I retreated the other way, pushing forcefully past the doctor as he attempted to box me in with his smaller body. I dodged the doctor's grasp and ran to the door, realizing too late that I didn't know how to work the colored symbol buttons beside it. 

Lord Solon was behind me instantly, seizing me roughly by the neck and arm with his large gloved hands. He lifted me off the floor and dropped me harshly onto the table, almost knocking the wind out of my lungs. Struggling for breath, I didn't put up much of a fight as the doctor swooped in to put the restraints around my wrists, ankles and midsection.

"I've seen her medical charts. They're a few years old, but adequate." The doctor headed away from the table to access his computer terminal. "The chances of her conceiving a hybrid child are low. So, I'm not sure why she's been kept on the ship so long. They should have sent her away right after she arrived."

"It doesn't matter, Gahn."

"Lord Barev requested I immediately sterilize whomever you chose."

A sound resembling a growl of displeasure came from behind the mask. Despite my predicament, I found myself staring at the shiny metal surface and wondering how he could see since there were no noticeable holes in the mask.

Doctor Gahn took a rather savage looking instrument from a nearby drawer and held it up. "I'll do it now then," he said, stepping toward me. 

To my surprise, Solon voiced a "No," just as I did- only his voice was more authoritative while mine was panicked.

"Solon," Gahn said, with a sigh. "A man of your age has needs. Why not use her as everyone expects instead of putting up this charade?"

"I said no. Put it in your report that it was done. That will satisfy my father."

My confusion and curiosity were quickly overcoming my fear of the situation. With shakiness to my voice I asked softly, "Charade, my lord?" Solon turned back to me and I wondered how well he understood the human tongue.

"All must believe you are my mistress," he said in perfect English, lacking the lisps, slurring and phonetic omissions that plagued many Sulai who attempted to learn it.

"If I am not to be your mistress, then what is my purpose?"

"You will spy on my father's guards and concubines and report to me."

I stared at that mask while I pondered his words, wishing that I could see past it to read his eyes, but also hoping that I'd never see what sort of disfigurement was hidden beneath.

"My lord, I think this woman will only get you into trouble," Gahn interjected. "This plan will not work."

"It will have to work." Solon was back to speaking Sulai, exchanging words with Gahn.

"And if I refuse?" I asked with a fearful squeak.

Gahn spoke over the top of my words. "She is a troublemaker, my lord. She has no reason to trust you or be loyal."

"I said I'm not cooperating," I said angrily, but they continued to bark and bellow across the table as if I wasn't even strapped down there.

"She will follow my orders."

"Why should she?"

"Everyone follows my orders," Solon insisted.

Gahn laughed and shook his head. "You know very little about the rebellious human spirit- especially females. She'll stab you in your sleep the first chance she gets."

Silence filled the room. Solon's head lowered as if he was looking directly at me for the first time in several moments.

"You might want to try negotiating," Gahn said, finally dropping his tone to an almost whisper. "I can tell she's very willful."

I groaned with agitation. "Get me off this table," I said.

"Be quiet and listen," Lord Solon said, leaning over me to use his closeness as further intimidation. "You are only useful to me to a point. If you prove to not be useful, I will get rid of you. In fact, I think I will give you to my soldiers. They have very imaginative ways of sating their needs."

I did listen and a shiver coursed through me at his callous words. He had a reputation for being heartless. I couldn't help thinking that I had approached this situation in the wrong way. "Please let me up," I requested meekly.

"Not yet," he said flatly.

My fear erupted. "Why not? I'll agree to do your bidding."

Gahn suddenly held up another instrument, just as frightening in appearance as the last. "You realize this will be permanent. I won't be able to return her vision."

"I know."

As the purpose of the instrument became clear, I began to scream and pulled desperately at my restraints. I closed my eyes, clamping them tightly as I turned my head away from the doctor. "No! Please!" I begged. Not my sight, I thought. I'd never be able to write, draw or sew again. What happiness would the world hold for me if I was blind? 

I heard and felt them close in on me; and suddenly the doctor was gripping my chin with his rough-textured hand. "Haven't I been punished enough?" I cried, trying to resist him. I was straining my neck muscles and scraping the top layer of flesh from my chin in the process. 

"Hold her, Solon," Gahn said urgently.

I opened my eyes as Lord Solon reached out with both gloved hands to tightly grip my head. I looked up at the mask and its impenetrable surface and felt my heart seize in my chest. How could I reason with him when I couldn't see his expression? I let out a fearful bawl and thrashed against the restraints as the instrument was lowered closer to my face.

"I suggest you calm down," Lord Solon said. 

Gahn suddenly swore. "I'm putting her out. I can't possibly work with all this carrying on."

Solon said nothing further. He continued to hold my head securely as Gahn moved away.

"Lord Solon, please," I begged, hoping he was hearing more than just my sobs and not ignoring me all together. "What good is a spy who cannot see? I'm sorry if I offended you..."

The doctor was filling a syringe from a small clear bottle, moving back toward the examination table; and Lord Solon's grip was painfully strong on the sides of my head.

"I'll wear a blindfold, if you wish," I promised, holding back the urge to thrash against the restraints only because I wanted to show him my sincerity. "Please...!"

Reaching my side, the doctor leaned forward and gripped my arm. My eyes locked on the syringe, watching it stab into my flesh with a twinge of pain. Just then, Lord Solon said something to Doctor Gahn in Sulai. I didn't catch much of it because my thoughts began to cloud. I fought to keep my eyes open, wanting to record the final moments of my sight into memory, but the drugs were too strong; and I could not make out the forms around me through the settling, numbing haze.

------

It was a distant, muffled sound that somehow snagged my mind from unconsciousness and reeled it to the surface. My head turned toward the sound, realizing that it was conversation that I was hearing. The inflections and rhythms of the words were of the Sulai language. Instinctively, my eyelids tried to open, but found resistance. I was startled by the continuing darkness that followed the action. My hands lifted to my face to find thick bandages wrapped over them. The fear-induced pain that burst forth in my chest did not stop me from investigating further. I pressed my fingertips against the bandages, applying pressure to test for injury. Through the thick material, I felt the bulge of my eyeballs, which moved as I willed, but did not ache as I expected.


Mask of Pain Ch. 01



The conversation, which I assumed was taking place in the next room, came to an abrupt end. I dropped my hands to my sides, where they met silky cloth and the soft bulk of the mattress beneath my form. Heavy footfalls moved closer, entering the room, but stopped some distance away from the bed.

"She is awake," an older, female voice said in English from the opposite side of the room than the footfalls had entered. The unexpected sound startled me again, causing me to turn my head in her direction.

"Isleen," Lord Solon said from the position of the halted footfalls, "Kara will assist you in your bathing and dressing."

I paused, unsure how to respond with my mind full of so many questions and fears. My hand rose again to the bandages, touching them lightly as I pondered.

"Leave them be," Lord Solon ordered in a harsh tone.

I dropped my hand to my chest, clutching the front of the borrowed dress as the emotion continued to stir within me. The thought of a life of blindness was so devastating, that all the things of joy that I could remember seemed to drift into my thoughts in that instant to taunt at me. The swish and sway of a dancer's grace would never again fill me with peace, just as I would never scratch out the words of a story or sonnet to share with the women in the detention center. Blindness, on top of the isolation from the other women, was clearly far more than I thought I could endure. So, I began to sob with a low and building howl that poured out of my body as anguish forced out every ounce of happiness that I had managed to cling to during the many years of my confinement.

Even through the sounds of my sobs, I heard the heavy footfalls move away and a door close indifferently. Then a gentle hand touched the top of my head, moving down to touch my cheek and pull me against a soft breast.

"Do not cry, my dear. It is not as bad as you think."

"I am blind," I blubbered. "He took my sight from me!"

"I know." Kara's warm tone tweaked with emotion as she confided in a whisper. "They stole my sight too... after Lord Solon was born...so I could be his nursemaid." There was a brief pause, filled with my weeping, before she added, "You are not alone."

These words were meant to comfort, I realized, but I was not to be consoled. Though I continued to carry on for quite a while, I let her hold me until I was too tired to cry more. The bandages were wet with my tears and I pondered the possibility of infection even as I celebrated the miracle of still being able to produce tears.

"Why doesn't it hurt?" I finally asked, my head resting on her thigh, rubbing against the softness of her dress-skirt.

"Be glad that it doesn't," Kara said, smoothing back the wisps of hair that often escaped my braid to frame my face. "Doctor Gahn will come in the morning to see you."

I said nothing, though I thought quite a few vengeful remarks about the doctor.

"Let's get you bathed and changed," Kara suggested. "Dinner should be ready soon." She scooted out from under my head, reaching out to take my arm and help me up. Without my sight to aid me, I felt very clumsy and uncertain as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed and sought out the feel of solid floor beneath my bare feet. "Nice and easy," she said encouragingly as she wrapped a strong arm around my waist and coaxed me into a shaky, standing position.

"Fifteen steps to the doorway of the bath-chamber," she said, and urged me forward, taking each step along with me. I counted the steps in my mind because I assumed she was as well. At fourteen I hesitated, worried that I might collide with the wall and reached out a hand in search of it. My fingertips passed through open air until finally contacting a surface ahead and to my right.

"Found it?" Kara asked.

"Yes."

We stepped into the doorway before she turned me a bit to the left. "Seven paces to the tub. It will hit you about knee-level."

I started forward, surprising myself when I stepped willingly out of her firm grasp and toward the unseen tub. I reached out with my hands, not completely trusting the path ahead, but determined to make it with each unspoken number. I stopped at the count of seven and bent over to find the edge of the tub with my hands. It was there, just as Kara said it would be.

The nursemaid stepped up behind me, her hands skimming up the back of my dress, pushing aside my braid and manipulating the buttons. I let her do it, keeping both hands clenched on the side of the tub until it was necessary to remove them to slip the dress over my head.

"This garment doesn't fit you very well," Kara commented. 

"It was borrowed," I said, feeling oddly ashamed to admit it. I wasn't going to tell her what happened to my own dress.

Kara moved away to start the water flowing into the tub. I pulled off my underclothes. The garments, warm from body heat, fell from my grasp to land on the floor at my toes. It had been a very long time since I'd been completely nude and I felt self-conscious, even if Kara couldn't see me either.

"In you go," she coaxed, moving close again to offer herself as a support as I swung my leg over the edge and stepped into the pooling water. It was especially warm water, which felt hot at first to my delicate skin and healing injuries and caused me to wince. Thankfully, I adjusted to the temperature in stages as I eased carefully down to sit in the tub. Finally I felt comfortable enough to lay back as the warmth slowly worked its way higher up my body. After years of cold sponge baths, this was heavenly.

"Can you help me take my braid out?" I asked.

"Of course."

I sat up, listening to the sounds of the water reacting to my movements and her swishing dress-skirt. She gripped my braid at the base of my skull, gathering it up with care until she found the dripping end. My dark hair, which hung easily to my backside, fell free as it was released from its confinement. Kara worked her fingers through the mass of hair, finding knots and tangles and sorting them out with as much skill as a sighted caretaker would have. Oddly, my scalp began to ache then and I let out a low groan.

"We really should wash it properly, but then we'd get your bandages wetter. So, I'll work some lather into the lower half for now. Most likely Doctor Gahn will remove your bandages completely in the morning."

The mention of Gahn kept me from commenting. 

Like a little child eager for the physical interaction, I lost myself in the feel of her hands in my hair and rubbing soap across my back, shoulders and arms. She dispensed some rose-scented soap into my hand to wash my own front and lower body. It was a rather interesting task with no eyes to direct my hands. Thankfully, I knew my body and its dimensions for next I was using a razor to shave my legs and underarms.

"Why do I have to shave," I asked. I wasn't too trusting, even of myself, to wield a razor with the accuracy needed to avoid getting sliced up. Her words should not have surprised me for I had already been informed of my supposed role by Solon himself.

"Well, dear," Kara began slowly, "Lord Solon has chosen you as his concubine. Do you know what that means?"

After some hesitation and forethought, I said simply, "Yes."

"You have experience with these matters?"

"No," I said softly, turning my face toward the sound of her voice. "No one has ever wanted me that way."

Now it was her turn to hesitate, but she pressed forward with as much pleasantness as she could under the circumstances. "I don't know if he'll expect anything of you tonight. It would be best if you were prepared though."

I shivered in the warm water, pulling my legs up and resting the side of my face upon my bony knees. "He seems like a very lonely person," I said. "Does he get along with anyone?"

"I don't think that is really any of our business," Kara responded, accepting blame for the question as much as she criticized me for asking it. A long silence followed this rebuke. I used the time to finish shaving, knowing full well that Lord Solon wasn't anymore interested in bedding me than the guards at the detention center had been.

Following the bath, I was fitted into a soft, snug gown that made similar swishing noises to Kara's dress as I walked. My hair was combed through and left down to dry. I was still barefoot, but Kara insisted that would soon not be the case. 

It was thirty-six steps from my bedroom door to the dining room, a slight turn to the left, nine steps more and I was at my chair, situated to the left side of Lord Solon's at the head of the table.

"Sorry she is late, my lord," Kara said from beside me, stopping short of giving excuses for either of us.

"She looks...clean," Solon said, sounding unimpressed. "I'm sure you did the best you could with her. Discard her old clothes. The fitters will arrive tomorrow morning to measure her for new ones."

"I've already taken care of it," Kara assured him.

Another person entered the room and I turned that direction, still clutching the back of the chair in preparation of being invited to sit.

"Dean, this is Isleen," Solon said. "You can serve the meal now."

Dean moved forward in long, confident strides that skimmed slightly on the carpet. He touched me firmly on the shoulder. "It is a pleasure," he said softly before adding, "Very good, my lord" and heading back the direction he had come.

"Sit down."

I turned back to Solon's voice and nodded slowly. I pulled out the chair before working my way around and slipping onto the seat. Kara stood quietly at my left, ready to assist me. 

Dean returned with a squeaky dinner cart and began to lay out the dishes of food. As he placed each item in front of me, he said what it was and where exactly it could be found if I imagined the tabletop as being a clock. 

I imagined Lord Solon was watching every fumbling move I made through dinner- especially when I dropped my elbow into my lentil soup, spilling it down the side of the table and onto the floor.

"It's alright, dear," Kara said immediately, hurrying to clean up the mess as I fought off tears of frustration.

"My lord?" I ventured in a wavering emotional tone.

"Yes?" he said coolly.

"Might I be excused?"

"You haven't eaten that much."

That was true. Most of the food was managing to end up on the tablecloth, my dress, or the floor. I couldn't imagine ever being so clumsy about food- even when I was a young child. My face was burning and my eyes tearing beneath the bandages as I said, "I think I've had enough."

"Very well."

I pushed back my chair, turned in the seat and stood. It was nine steps to the doorway, I reminded myself and started counting each step. At eight steps, I groped for the doorframe, found it and continued to backtrack to the bedroom. I was a couple of steps out of the dining room when my foot knocked into something and I stumbled just a bit, but managed to keep upright. I heard Lord Solon ask Kara to accompany me, insisting Dean could finish the clean up.

Each moment made it more difficult not to break down in sobs as emotion raged within me. I was groping for something to hold onto when Kara came up from behind and gently took me by the shoulders. "Just a little too far to the left," she said and guided me in the right direction. Once in my room, I let myself cry while she fussed over my dress, changing it for a lightweight, flesh exposing nightgown. Then she excused herself a moment to speak with the master about any further obligations I might have that evening.

I was seated on the bed with my arms wrapped around my front, allowing my tears and emotions to run their course when Solon's heavy footsteps entered the room. "She won't be much good to me in this state," he said after a moment; and I decided he was probably speaking to the much quieter Kara. "Put her to bed in here tonight."

"Yes, my lord."

----

My bandages were itching when I awoke the next morning. I touched them gingerly at first, almost daring to rip them away, but Kara's soft voice in the doorway distracted me. She was there to help me dress before Doctor Gahn arrived. So, I assisted the best I could and let her guide me into the sitting room once we heard Dean greet the physician a few minutes later.

"How did her bandages get wet?" Gahn was quick to ask. His tone was already pitched with irritation at the sight of me.

"She was crying," Dean said, supporting my arm as Kara eased me into a chair at his side.

"I see. Did Solon wish to be present for this examination?"

"I am not certain," Dean admitted. "Let me inquire." He left the room, moving much more quickly than I would have dared with no vision.

"I would like some tea," Gahn said instantly to Kara.

"Oh, of course, doctor," she said, sounding a bit uncertain at the request, but her form left my side and the swishing of her skirt grew softer as she left the room.

Suddenly Doctor Gahn was leaning over me, talking in quick, whispered instructions. "Say not a word unless we indicate that you should speak. No questions...none!" 

Confused by his orders, my mouth fell open under the weight the questions I could not ask. Then I heard Dean returning with Lord Solon and promptly closed my mouth.

"Ah, my lord, I hope this morning finds you well," Gahn rambled off pleasantly in Sulai.

"I have business with my father this afternoon," Solon responded coldly, as if that comment alone summed up the possibilities of his day being well or not.

"You shouldn't make her cry so much," the Doctor gently chided. "It has seeped through the thick bandages."

Solon said nothing to Gahn. Instead his words were directed in English to Dean. "Did the metalworker's assistant drop off anything yet this morning?"

"No, my lord."

"Then I wish you and Kara to go over there, retrieve the item and remind them of how displeased I get when they are late."

"You are certain you wish both of us to go? Won't the fitters be arriving soon?"

I assumed that another servant, with less personal experience in dealing with the master would have been reprimanded or punished for questioning his orders, but in the case of Dean and Kara, who I assumed had been with him his entire life, it appeared that Lord Solon wasn't so quick to get offended.

"Humor me, Dean. It is a complicated walk to the metal shop." Even through his harsh, husky voice, I thought I heard genuine affection for the old servant.

"As you wish," Dean said respectfully, departing the room to find Kara.

The doctor spoke in Sulai. "Another mask? You have several already."

"It isn't for me."

Kara and Dean passed through the room on their way out. "Your tea will be ready presently, Doctor," Kara said. "I have set the items out in the dining room for you."

"Very good," Gahn responded, holding back his next comment until the two were safely out the door and it slid shut behind them. "That's a rather expensive present, don't you think?"

"Just remove the bandages, Gahn. I will explain in due course."

His attention finally back on me, the doctor slipped a sort of cutting tool, not unlike a pair of scissors under the bandages at my forehead and sliced through them with one clean snip. The cloth fell away, revealing an almost blinding combination of light and color. My eyes closed protectively and my hands flew to them to touch and rub at the irritated area. Slowly I reopened my lids to find the world sliding into focus in front of me. I looked between Gahn and Lord Solon, speechless in the realization that I wasn't blind after all.

The older man righted himself and backed a step away with the cutters still grasped in his hand. "You are sure you don't want to change your mind?" he asked Solon, looking warily at my expression.

"If she values her eyes so much, she will not do anything to anger me," Solon said. His inclined head made it appear that he was looking down on me, but I really couldn't tell for certain. With the effects of shock still lingering in my system, I couldn't speak, not even to thank him for his mercy. Of course, I remembered that I wasn't to talk unless indicated.

Solon turned away, pacing a few steps before looking back in my direction. "What good is a spy that cannot see?" he said, repeating the very words I had used in the medical lab the day previous. "Everyone will believe you have been blinded. In my quarters, you will wear a blindfold at all times. While in other areas of the ship, you will wear a special mask like my own. You will be able to see, but others will identify you by it and assume you are blind."

"Won't Kara and Dean suspect something if I wear a blindfold?" I was quick to ask.

"I require my privacy," he countered. "You will tell them that you prefer the blindfold."

"But why would I?"

"I care not for what reason, Isleen. You will make them believe you."

I noted his use of my name. "You do not trust them to keep this secret?" I pressed. "Haven't they been loyal to you for years."

He crossed the room in long strides to loom over me and squeeze my arm tightly in his grip. "You will not dare speak to me with such impudence- especially when you have not proven your worth," his voice raged from behind his mask.

"Perhaps you have need of my services after all," the doctor commented, looking eagerly over his case of barbaric instruments like a painter eyed his fine brushes and paints.

"Do you understand?" Lord Solon demanded.

I stared at the broad metal surface of the mask with its angular black and gold designs. I felt myself nod automatically, wanting to look away, but finding the task more daunting than continuing to stare.

"Say it."

"I...I understand," I whispered.

He released my arm and stepped away with a loud sigh. "You'll wear the blindfold and practice being blind so that others will believe."

"Yes, Lord Solon."

------

I was back in my room when Kara and Dean arrived with the package from the metal shop. Solon sent them to attend to the preparation of a late breakfast while he brought the metal case with him to my room. I looked upon the silvery surface with fearful wonder as he placed it on the nightstand and opened it. Inside were two broad black and gold masks with matching designs, suspended inside a glass display box.

"A matching pair," I commented softly, still leery of him after his show of anger earlier.

"Yes. One of them is designed with a special alloy which allows the wearer to see through it."

I examined them both closely but could not tell which was which from the outside.

"I sent word to the metal master that my mask with this same design had been damaged. So, he thought he was making one for each of us."

"Then one of the masks is solid, so-to-speak?"

He nodded and reached into the box to remove one of the masks. He manipulated the clasps that held the front and back sections in place, opening it up so I could see the inside of the mask. This was the mask with the alloy of which he'd spoken. I could plainly see his gloved hand through the mask, holding the front of it.

"Once your blindness has been established, you will wear this mask to spy on my father's guards and concubines. Until you are comfortable faking the disability, you will wear the other mask."

He placed the mask back into the glass display box and withdrew the second mask, opening it as he had the first. My gaze went immediately to the smooth and solid surface of the interior. There were no holes in the mask- same as Lord Solon's. Looking at it made me feel mildly claustrophobic.

"How long did it take for you to get used to your masks?" I asked before thinking. When he didn't respond immediately, I realized I might have made a great blunder. "I apologize..." I began slowly, wondering how mad he would be, just as he responded.

His tone was oddly soft, yet relatively unemotional. "My father had my first mask made when I was still an infant. So, in a way, I have always had them."




Mask of Pain Ch. 01



"You don't wear one all the time," I said cautiously. "There would be times that you would need to take it off."

Again there was a long silence. He turned the mask over in his gloved hands, probably studying its design as he considered my brave comments.

"Try it on," he said firmly, placing the mask in my hands. It was lighter than I expected, but felt durable. With trepidation, I pulled it over my head, letting it rest there as I took in the new sensations of restricted air flow, temperature increase and additional weight. I instantly hated it, even before he reached out and closed the clasps into place, sealing my head within the horrible mask. I tried not to panic, to slow down my breathing and accept the darkness, but it was difficult.

"I do get to wear a blindfold while here in your quarters, my lord?" I asked, hoping to confirm what he'd said earlier while mildly hinting that I was not liking how the mask felt. The sound of my voice seemed to reverberate within the confined space.

"The fitters are coming soon. You will wear this mask while they measure you," he responded. "Then you can put on your blindfold."

Always quick and efficient, Kara arrived in the next couple of moments to announce that the late breakfast was ready. Lord Solon helped me remove the mask, placing it back in the case, before reaching over to pull a thick blindfold off the edge of my dressing table. Then he placed it over my eyes, tying it securely in place. Grasping my upper arm, he helped me stand as Kara moved forward to take me from him.

"I want the dining room doors locked while we eat," Solon told Kara. "When they arrive, the clothiers can wait in the sitting room until we are ready to join them."

Kara acknowledged these orders and Solon left the room.

"He can't wear a mask when he eats, can he?" I found myself quietly asking Kara as she turned me toward the door.

"You really must learn to squelch all these questions, dear," she said with a disappointed sigh.

"I know I'm right," I said. "I've just had a sample of his reality within those terrible things and there is no way he can eat that way."

"Ah, so that is what he had made," she said, sounding intrigued. "Somehow I'm not surprised that he'd put you in a mask."

"Because I'm unattractive?" I queried, not really feeling offense as I knew it to be true.

Our progress toward the dining room halted suddenly; and her grip tightened around my waist. "I am blind, dear," she softly reminded me. "I know and think nothing about your looks. What I meant, is that you will become an extension of Lord Solon. Your mask will mark you as being his; and just as his presence instills fear in those around him, the unknown behind your mask will do the same."

It took me an extra few seconds to figure out what she was telling me, but I did eventually understand. It was odd and certainly inappropriate, but my reaction to this assessment was to smile. Kara's explanation had made me aware that pretending to be Solon's concubine would afford me certain respectability among the Sulai- something that I had never had before.

------

Far less of this meal ended up on the floor or my dress as it had the previous evening. I was hungry enough to slow down and be precise in my movements, keeping in mind where each dish had been placed. With my elbows tucked tightly against my body, I worked outward from myself, seeking each plate and utensil with hesitant, but effective reaches.

In his chair beside me, Lord Solon must have been watching, for he reached out a few times to direct my hands. I thanked him each time he assisted me. Even if he managed to show me a softer side to his personality on occasion, he was still my master and demanded respect.

Solon stood up from the table first; and I thought I heard him donning his mask as he did so. With a click of the securing clasps, he moved toward the door. "Stay here, Isleen," he said, "until I can retrieve your mask."

With an emotional twinge of reluctance, I pulled my hands safely back into my lap. "Yes, my lord."

He returned shortly, moving back to my side to pull off the blindfold and begin lowering the mask over my head. Again I tried to breathe slowly and keep myself calm as the metal encased my features. He engaged the clasps, turning my head gently from side to side, making sure the fit was right. Then he gripped my upper arm and helped me out of the chair, guiding me out of the dining room and into the waiting room where the clothiers were collected. Their hushed conversations ceased completely as we entered the room.

"Good morning, Lord Solon," a scratchy-voiced woman said respectfully to him. "We are honored to be of service to you."

"Lady Isleen requires clothing more suited to her new station," Solon said firmly. "As you can see, she will only be seen in public wearing her mask. So, all of her clothes should compliment it. Furthermore, her body is mine and mine alone to enjoy. Therefore, her public attire will be modest, concealing and authoritative to fit her new role."

"As you wish, Lord Solon."

"My servants will assist as needed. I have duties to attend this morning, but will receive a full report from them when I return."

"I'm certain you will be most pleased," the woman assured him.

"Good." His hand released my arm. Then I felt and heard him move away. "No one removes her mask," he said pointedly just before exiting the suite.

"Yes, my lord," answered a chorus of voices, Kara and Dean's among them.

The next few hours were strenuous on my psyche as my emotions rebounded between fighting claustrophobia and the excitement of getting new clothes. I tried to remain silent while they positioned and measured me, unsure if I was allowed to talk with these women or not. In turn, they directed their questions and comments to Kara and Dean rather than to me, perhaps also wondering if they were allowed to speak to Lord Solon's concubine. Finally, when the discussion moved from styles and fabrics to colors, and it sounded like I was to be forever clad in only black and gold, I could hold my tongue no longer.

"Surely we can do more than that," I said with agitation.

After a brief moment of silence, the head seamstress asked thoughtfully, "What would you like, Lady Isleen?"

"Red, blue, dark purple...perhaps even some white," I found myself saying with great confidence. "Gold and black are accent colors after all," I pointed out.

"Will Lord Solon approve?" the fitter inquired of Kara and Dean. Assuredly, they did not want to anger him.

"If you have met his criteria," Dean said, "I don't see any reason for him to object, unless Lady Isleen is dissatisfied."

Even blinded by the mask, I thought I felt the weight of several gazes shift in my direction. I wondered what they were thinking in that moment. Perhaps they puzzled over my request as I was supposed to be blind. In that case, why would it matter what colors my outfits were?

Kara spoke up softly, "Assuredly Lady Isleen will appreciate your efforts despite her impairment."

The mood of the room lightened then; and the session ended a short time later with Kara guiding me back to my room while Dean helped the fitters collect their things and saw them out.

"Oh my, you are a spirited girl, aren't you?" Kara commented as she helped me remove the stifling mask and began to brush out my hair. It was heavenly to be out of its confinement and then treated with the calming strokes to my scalp. 

Though Lord Solon was out, I quickly thought of my blindfold and started to rise. "I... I need my blindfold," I told Kara. "Do you know where Lord Solon put it?"

"There is no one here to stare at you, Isleen. You don't need it."

"Oh, but I do," I insisted, trying to think fast. "My eyes are still sensitive. It hurts not to cover them."

I shifted my gaze to her beautiful, yet useless green eyes embedded in pretty features just starting to show the strain of age and saw her sternness fade away. For a moment, she was visibly sympathetic. "I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't realize. Perhaps it is still in the dining room." She moved around me to go in search; and I couldn't stop myself from suddenly reaching out and pulling her into a gentle embrace.

"Thank you, Kara," I whispered to her, feeling quickly overwhelmed by complex and mysterious emotions. "You are wonderful."

This compliment seemed to stun her. She slowly withdrew from my grasp. "Spirited and sentimental," she said with a shake of her head, unaware that I could see the smile on her lips that contradicted the disapproval in her tone.

------

It was at least another hour before Solon returned to the suite. From the sound of his growls and the slamming of doors, he was in a foul mood. I ventured out of my room, having spent the between time singing and cautiously dancing around my room, trying to fill the blackness with a mental map of objects and open space. Dancing, instead of stumbling about, had made it seem a lot more like a game and not quite so disheartening when I stubbed a toe or banged a knee.

"Are you hungry, my lord?" I heard Dean inquire of Solon. "You were gone longer than we expected."

Another growl, but not seemingly directed at Dean. "Has Isleen had anything?"

"No, my lord. Since you left no standing order, I assumed it was best to await your return."

"I see." His tone softened a little. "Make us some sandwiches. Then I want a report on the fitting."

Dean's light, confident strides headed away to fulfill the order as I entered the hallway between the dining room and Lord Solon's bedroom. Though tempted to peek out from under my blindfold, fear of punishment kept me in check as I felt my way toward the location I'd last heard Lord Solon's voice. 

Since I was spending so much time in a blindfold, I was beginning to distinguish changes in airflow as I moved around the temperature controlled suite. That was how I knew I had reached his now open doorway. I halted and turned as if to look in. Immediately I picked up on the shifting sounds of his clothed form within the room.

"Yes, Isleen?" came his voice a second later. He sounded tired and still irritable- not entirely unhappy to see me, though.

With mustered courage, I asked, "Might I be of some service, my lord?"

"Meaning?" he asked very quickly.

Understandably baffled to have my question answered with another, I hesitated to collect my thoughts and words. "I was hoping you would have a task for me," I said and tried to explain. "There isn't much for me to do. I think the time would pass more quickly if I had some duties to perform each day."

"A concubine's duty is to satisfy her master's desires," was his hollow response. "It is inappropriate for you to be doing tasks usually assigned to a servant."

"Oh..." I said, feeling my courage sink deep inside. Without it, I knew I could not plead my case further, demanding that I needed something or someone to occupy the many hours of the day. I dreaded tomorrow, having no appointments that I knew of to interrupt the monotony of being blindfolded and without inspiration.

I turned, ready to leave so that I could not irritate him further when his heavy footfalls passed to the doorway. His gloved hand touched my arm; and I stopped to listen to what he might say, hoping I was not in for a scolding.

"You're bored," he said, again losing the harsh edge to his voice. The understanding tone of his voice was unexpected. 

"I do not mean to complain," I began, but was cut off. 

"I will think on your request- see if I can find something appropriate."

I didn't hold back the relieved smile that stretched my lips. "Thank you," I said softly. 

He remained close for several moments, but said nothing before releasing my arm and retreating back into his room.

I made my way into the dining room where Kara was setting the table. I could hear the swish of her skirt and the soft thump of the heavy plates as she set them at our usual places at the table.

"How is he, dear?" she asked quietly with a mother's concern.

"Alright, I suppose," I said. "He doesn't really talk to me unless I ask him a question or he is giving me an order. Perhaps someday he will take me into his confidence."

A sound not too unlike a chuckle, came from her direction, followed with the guarded comment, "That would be a miracle."

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say," I said, my posture slouching as I gripped the high back of the chair in front of me. "I think he's capable."

Lord Solon's heavy footfalls in the hall behind me prompted us to end our discussion. He entered the room and took his seat at the head of the table. The following silence was almost torturous. I wondered what he could see in our expressions and if he guessed at the guilt I was masking. Thankfully, Dean interrupted the moment as he brought the food in from the kitchen.

"Come sit down," Solon said to me. "Need Kara to help?"

"No, no, I can do it," I insisted, turning and starting around the side of the table. I paced my movements, allowing myself to grip the back of each chair as a marker of my progress. However, as I started around the head of the table, I miscalculated how far his chair was pulled out and ended up running into him, my hand falling on his broad shoulder as I regained my balance. "Sorry," I said quickly, shuffling around the chair and finally slipping into my own spot with a bit of embarrassed heat on my features.

"How did the fitting go?" Solon asked. My hands froze just as they settled around the sandwich Kara had placed on my plate. I assumed they would tell him about my request for the colored garments, and that he would be upset for the slip-up on my part.

"All went well, I believe," Dean said. "The clothiers were noticeably determined to please you."

"True," Kara said. "Though it would be helpful for future reference," she added, "if you gave us particular instruction about how others might interact with Isleen. The clothiers were hesitant to address her directly and clearly Isleen was uncertain."

"Did you talk to them?" Solon asked me, his words muffled by a bite of sandwich.

I pulled my hands from the tabletop to my lap and lowered my head submissively. Here it comes, I thought with trepidation. "Yes, my lord."

"What did you say?"

"I asked that they make my clothes other colors than just black and gold."

"Why? Your mask is black and gold."

"Yes," I admitted, hesitating to choose my words with care. "I guess I just wanted some say in the matter- even if it is...irrelevant, in my case."

"Assuredly the garments will prove tasteful and agreeable to you," Dean interjected, speaking to Solon.

The master did not give an immediate response, perhaps contemplating the seriousness of my blunder. "We shall see," he commented finally. "Eat," he commanded, again not sounding as angry at me as I had envisioned.

I reached for the sandwich, lifting it cautiously to my mouth and taking a small bite. A combination of various meat and cheese flavors met my palate and only then did I realize that I was starving.

"You had a long visit with your father," I commented a few moments later, feeling a bit braver after the lack of a tongue-lashing for the fitting incident. "Is he...well?"

When Kara stiffened beside me, the courage fled. Why I kept putting myself in this position, I didn't know. Surely I had to wizen up at some point. I didn't apologize. I just sat, still grasping the sandwich in my hands.

"Normally my father is not a topic welcomed at my table," Solon said, the brashness of his deep voice very effective in making his point. "I do suppose...though...that you will have to meet him at some point."

"What do you wish me to know about him, my lord?" I asked with care.

"He is a tyrant," Solon said immediately, as if the word had long ago been assigned to the leader of the Sulai. "Sometimes he pretends differently, but... his actions are always to serve his desires above all others."

I nodded, dropping the sandwich back to the plate. It seemed wrong to eat when my attention should be fully on this offered information. My stomach growled in protest, but I forced myself to ignore it.

"He has at least a dozen concubines, whom you will spend time with once your clothes are completed. You should be mindful and respect them."

"Yes, my lord."

He continued to eat. So I ate too, secretly glad that his briefing had been short and I got ample time to fill my stomach before the food was cleared away.

"Are you off again so soon?" Kara asked Solon as he pushed his heavy chair back from the table and stood with a rustle of material and the snapping of his mask into place.

"I have been ordered to do a surprise inspection on one of the ships. If I'm not back by the usual dinner hour, let Isleen eat. I could be very late."

"We'll tend to her," Kara promised, patting my hair gently like I was a prized pet. I don't think I managed to hide my irritation at this treatment. "Want her to wait up for you?"

Did this conversation have to be right in front of me, and yet, not include me?

"No, not tonight."

I waited until Solon had left the suite before rising from the chair. Dean and Kara began to clear the table and I slipped my blindfold up to peek at them. Dean was a tall, broad-shouldered man with the first touches of gray in his dark brown hair, which was cut short and very tidy. He had a wide-jaw with thin lips that were set in determination as he worked at his task. His nose was longer, but not too broad to compliment his features. His sightless eyes were deep brown and beautiful; and I immediately considered him very good-looking for his age.

"Now how shall I pass the rest of the day?" I asked tentatively. My usual hobbies were out of the question as they required eye sight, which I was supposed to be lacking. "What do you two do to pass time when Lord Solon is away?"

"We tend to our duties, of course," Kara replied, sounding a bit snappish.

"Solon said I'm not allowed to do servant work," I said sadly. I hoped she would understand that I truly wanted some responsibilities.

"And he would be correct," Dean affirmed. "You are not a servant."

With a dramatic sigh, I replaced my blindfold and counted out the steps to my room. With seemingly nothing to bide my time, I stretched out on the bed to think. Even though Kara had seemed cross with me, I felt a sense of loss thinking of all the things that Dean and Kara had sacrificed for their master. He had allowed me to keep my sight, yet I couldn't do the activities I enjoyed. It was tragic, in my mind, for everyone.

I somehow managed to daydream through the afternoon and into the evening. I had a solitary meal in the dining room then returned to my rooms for my bath. During which, Kara pulled off my blindfold so we could wash my hair. Between dunks, I inspected my wounds, which weren't healing as well as I would have liked. I realized they were becoming permanent scars on my pale flesh. This fact only added to my melancholy.

----

In the morning, Kara woke me early, dragging me from bed with her nagging. "Put on your mask, dear," she ordered. "The first of your outfits has arrived."

I found and pulled on my robe, hiding yet another flesh-exposing nightgown beneath it. Then I crossed to the vanity, removed my blindfold and exchanged it for the solid mask, which was the only one I currently had access to. Kara was at my side as I made my way to the sitting room, where, from the sound of things, Dean, Lord Solon and the head clothier were assembled.

"Let me see it," Solon said. His order was promptly followed by the sound of metal bindings being released and the slight squeak of hinges as some sort of container was opened. Then there was silence as everyone awaited Solon's assessment. He moved toward the container, dragging something across the floor toward me. Then he stopped and seemed to circle around it.




Mask of Pain Ch. 02



In the morning, I had breakfast in my room, adorned my turquoise outfit and mask and sat patiently in the sitting room contemplating the information I'd learned from Dean and Kara until Solon's heavy footfalls alerted me to his approach.

"What is this?" he asked, his footsteps halting in the doorway.

"I believe I have an execution to attend, my lord. Your father invited me, remember?"

"You really wish to see me murder someone? I didn't think you were that cold."

"I don't have to watch," I said, pointing at my mask. "It's solid. I just have to listen and see what I can find out for you."

"Fine. I won't be coming back to the suite for a while, though."

I stood, nervously smoothing out the material of the silky gown, expecting it would be wrinkled from the wait. "Perhaps I should spend the afternoon with Lord Barev's concubines then."

He must have accepted this suggestion for he made no further comment. Grasping my hand, he led me out of the suite. 

At first, Solon's long strides were urgent; and I was pushing to keep up with him. I started to slow my pace, fearful that if any of his agitation from the previous evening remained he wouldn't care enough to make certain the path ahead of me was clear of obstructions. I kept a tight grip on his gloved hand as I felt him pull ahead.

"Please?" I softly begged. "Slow down."

Instantly his grip on my hand tightened, pinching my delicate fingers within the bulk of his glove. He growled, but muffled it quickly.

"Fine." Solon's iron grip loosened again.

Our pace slowed to manageable then progressed to an almost casual stroll as we continued. "Thank you," I said after several long moments, when it appeared that he'd settled into the new speed.

"Where are we?"

He said, "We're going to the ship control room."

He hadn't answered my question exactly. "Why?"

Sounding gruff, he replied, "I have things to look into." 

"Is it far?"

"You didn't have to come."

"I shouldn't ignore a command from your father," I whispered, half hoping Solon wouldn't hear the utterance. I was beginning to believe just the sound of my voice caused him great irritation this morning.

The noise of computer blips and humming machinery, coupled with a low vibrating sensation through my mask, made it easy to pinpoint the moment we entered the control room. Though I couldn't see them, I could literally feel the electrical devices that surrounded us. The fact that all other sounds ceased immediately, led me to believe that our appearance had been noticed by the personnel on duty.

"Lord Solon," a Sulai voice said, sounding strong, yet distant and muffled by the noises around us. "You honor us with your presence. How may we be of assistance?"

Solon continued forward, pulling me with him for several urgent strides before dropping my hand. I reached, but did not catch hold of him as he stepped away. Unsure of the path, I stopped, trying to stand tall and confidently despite my uncertainty.

"Commander Rashk," Solon responded, "though my father has had me on special task for some months now that does not mean I am disinterested in the activities of my soldiers, the fleet, or our operations on the planet."

"Of course," Rashk replied, his tone pleasant, but not exactly brimming with respect. "I didn't believe otherwise."

"You haven't sent me a report in weeks."

"I apologize. Lord Barev hinted that you might be... distracted with the chore of choosing and training your woman."

Solon's hesitation was brief, but even I knew it was the precursor to an eruption. My hands clenched the seams of my skirt. I held my breath; and my eyes closed tightly in preparation.

The strike was loud enough to carry above the machinery. I flinched, all too aware that Solon wore gloves and it must take considerable strength to hit someone that hard.

"Lady Isleen is none of your affair; or my father's."

There were hushed mutterings of disapproval all around me; and I believed, from the quick snatches of conversation between the Sulai, that they weren't surprised by the behavior of their leader's son.

"You will have the latest progress reports available for me to review by the end of the day," Solon ordered Rashk, who from the sound of shuffling, must have been climbing back to his feet.

Solon did not wait for an agreement or a challenge from the commander. He returned to me, taking my hand and drawing me urgently out of the room. The heavy door slid shut behind us and the vibration in my mask ceased, leaving a tingling sensation deep in my jaw, cheeks and forehead.

I wanted to comment to Solon about the vibration and after effects, but thought it better to not speak at all as he was dragging me along again, crushing my hand within his own.

Beneath his breath, Solon was cursing in an odd mix of English and Sulai. I hoped he was working the anger out of his system, but even after several moments, his tension did not appear to diminish. 

"Hey," I said, pulling back on his hand and planting my feet to make my point. He came to an abrupt stop, drawing near enough that I could feel the rise and fall of his heaving chest beneath the thick material of his uniform. His breathing echoed within his mask. I decided to continue before he could respond.

"You made your point to Rashk," I said, trying to be soothing. "Don't let it bother you further."

"He thinks he can take my place," Solon growled.

"But he can't. You are Barev's son - not he."

"Barev likes Rashk. He speaks generously of his accomplishments."

"He still is not you."

After a few moments of heavy silence, I heard his breathing even out. When he spoke next his tone sounded much more like sadness. "No one wants to be me, Isleen."

He moved away, the grasp of our hands the only remaining connection. We started walking again. In a few minutes Solon passed me over to Dr. Gahn when we met him along our path to the execution chamber. 

"He seems weary," Gahn whispered to me as we followed at a distance behind Solon's footfalls. 

"We've been fighting again," I admitted quietly. "None of us got much sleep last night."

"Why do you do this to him? He's been very generous to you under the circumstances."

I shrugged, choosing not to mention Rashk or anything Solon just confided to me.

We arrived; and suddenly Solon was back at my side to guide me into the chamber. As before, mutterings started and stopped as I passed through the crowd on his arm. Oh, how I prized the energy the two of us stirred up together, the emotions we caused in others with nothing more than confident strides, chilling costumes and the unknown underneath.

"Do you love their fear of you?" I asked Solon in a guarded tone.

His arm stiffened under my hand and I thought he might not answer civilly. Perhaps it was because we were in public that he did not lose his temper with me. A moment later, Solon greeted Lord Barev, who took me by the arm and placed me in a seat at his side. Solon took only a moment to lean close, his mask scraping lightly against mine, to whisper a simple, "Yes" to my question. Then he was gone, his heavy footfalls lost in the noises of the crowd.

"Dood morn-in-ing, Is...leeeen," Barev said to me, taking great care to pronounce the syllables of my name correctly. 

"Good morning, my lord".

"Oo been to ex-e-cute-shen before?"

"No," I answered truthfully. 

All around us were the sounds of people conversing and shifting about. I got the impression from the way every little noise seemed to reach us, that we were somewhere near the center of the chamber.

"What is Solon going to do to him exactly?" I tried to keep my unease from filtering out with the question.

"Cut head from bah-dee. Nuag choose way die."

My heart tightened in my chest at the thought. How could anyone choose to have their head cut off? I didn't dare to ask what the other choices were for death.

Someone closer to Barev began to speak in Sulai so I focused on the words as the crowd continued to chatter around us. The voice spoke of a report that had just come in about a possible discovery of a rebel camp.

"Good news," Barev said boisterously in Sulai. "You can brief me after the execution."

The speaker headed away, the crowd quieted and suddenly Solon's was the only voice audible in the room, addressing those gathered in Sulai. "Honorable Sulai, today we execute a man who has neglected the duties of his station. You trusted him to provide healthy women to have your children; and instead, he allowed many of you to choose infertile mates. He failed to protect your future; and, therefore has forfeited his life."

Even with some preparation, I still felt the rising dread inside me as Solon finished speaking and the crowd called out their anger. It hadn't occurred to me that the accused was not already present, but this mistake was remedied when the crowd suddenly got much louder, their furious remarks rebounding off the walls and ceiling, seeming to bombard me where I sat at a focal point of the room.

Immediately, I wasn't so sure I could sit through the execution. Even without my vision, I believed I would experience too much from this act of violence; and didn't welcome something more to keep me parted from my sleep at night. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go and no way to plug my ears.

"Have you any last words, Nuag?" Solon asked the man, who had not made any sound of distress that I could determine.

"No," was his emotionless reply.

"Then you accept this sentence and my duty to carry it out?"

There was no response to this question, but apparently none was really needed.

"Secure him," Solon ordered and there was the sound of a brief struggle before the soft buzz of a Sulai pulse-sword filled the air a short distance in front of me. 

I fidgeted beneath my cloak, slipping my hands under my outer thighs so that I wouldn't ring them in view of those around me. I wanted to drop my head, pull it closer to my core and focus on not hearing, but I knew I had to maintain the façade of the supportive concubine. With great effort, I steeled my shoulders, neck and jaw and tried not to hear.

The buzz moved swiftly through the air, deepening its sound as it sliced through flesh and bone, then regained its usual pitch as Nuag's head landed heavily on the hard floor.

The crowd cheered and screamed; and I turned a deaf ear to their calls, wanting very badly to take back the last couple of seconds and spend them somewhere else.

Luckily, Solon was not interested in hanging around. He was soon at my side, taking my arm firmly and helping me to my feet. "Please take me home," I pleaded as loudly as I dared. "I don't feel well."

"Solon, come to my rooms. We have news of a rebel camp. You and I will discuss plans," Barev moved closer to tell him over the roar of the crowd. 

"I will, Father, after I take Isleen back to my quarters," Solon said.

"Bring her," Barev insisted. "My women like her. She is good company for them."

I tried not to groan, cry or whimper, even though I wanted to. I expected Solon would follow his father's wishes and disregard my own. 

Meg was the first to realize something was wrong as she pulled me into their circle a short time later. "What is it, Isleen?"

"I'm not feeling well."

"Are you ill?" another girl asked immediately.

"I'm just a bit nauseous after the execution this morning," I said, trying to dismiss the need for concern with a wave of my hand. "And, I haven't been getting much sleep."

"He keeps you up, does he?" someone asked with a noticeable astuteness to her tone. 

Somehow I didn't realize she was hinting at something until Meg asked hesitantly, "How is he?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, not really thinking of what they might be inquiring.

"Well, Lord Barev says Solon has a wicked temper," Meg said. "We wondered if he is... gentle when he takes you."

My still fading nausea was reawakened in that moment. "I don't think I should be talking about this," I said quickly, trying not to sound panicky.

"We're not trying to get you in trouble with him," Meg insisted. "We are just concerned. Everyone is scared of him."

"Yeah, and you know more about him than anyone," a girl at my left elbow stated. "If you needed to talk, we'd keep your confidence," she promised. "Women need each other to talk to."

There was a chorus of agreement, which only made me feel worse. I should have realized that this would happen. Curiosity ran strong among groups of gossipy women.

"I'm sorry, I don't feel right. He is a very private person. I just can't defy him like that."

"How can you be so loyal?" another woman chimed in. "He blinded you."

I quickly guessed that I had disappointed a good many of them and perhaps strained the relationship I was attempting to build. My head drooped as I contemplated not only their words, but the true concern I could sense within them. "I have given my oath to him."

Again this answer was not happily accepted. "Why does he make you wear a mask? It's cruel," a much older voice said from across the gathering.

The continuing questions were beginning to anger me. "Because I am scarred," I blurted, feeling the oddest sense of relief in admitting what wasn't an exact fact. In truth, the mask hid that I wasn't blind, but even Solon had told Lord Barev that the mask was for covering my scars.

There were gasps from several of the women and Meg's arm slipped around my shoulder to pull me closer. "We're so sorry," Meg said; and I thought I heard her begin to sniffle.

Despite the power I wielded in that moment, I knew I'd gone too far. My next move should have been to tell them about the beating at the detention center, but suddenly someone else was speaking.

"I've heard some masters are like that," the very young voice said. 

Another woman said, "On the other ship where I lived, Sulai soldiers would sometimes come into the detention center. The administrator would let them beat and rape the girls that weren't as pretty as the others. It made me sick."

This story brought up several more and as the topic snowballed, I found myself more interested in listening than putting the spotlight back on myself.

"We are lucky to have Lord Barev as our master," Meg said to me. "He understands how easily he can hurt us if he isn't careful. He lets us use our hands and lotions to get him erect so that the hard outer skin will slide back. Then we only have to take the softer part of him into our wombs."

I was shocked, embarrassed and strangely intrigued to hear this information. Certainly sex was a topic often discussed at the detention center, but I'd never heard anything exactly like Meg had just described.

"Really?" I said, unsure of my true interest. "Doesn't the rest of his skin hurt you though?" I assumed it must as I'd felt Sulai skin contact my own before. Even a firm grip could scrape away the top layer of your flesh, let alone the beating I'd endured.

"Lord Barev uses oil to soften his touches on us," Meg said. "He takes care to be gentle."

Several voices spoke up, agreeing with her words. "He prizes us," one girl said. 

"He is insatiable," shared another with a giggle. 

"He never sleeps alone," Meg added, sounding awed and very fond of her master. "Perhaps Lord Barev has not shared these secrets with Solon."

"I doubt they really talk about that sort of thing," I said immediately.

"Would he listen if you told him?" Meg wanted to know.

"No, I don't think he would," I said, then added quickly, "I'd feel better if we discussed something else."

Slowly the topic turned away from sex to art, which should have lifted my mood, but couldn't under the circumstances. Then, all too soon, Solon came to collect me and the room was even quieter than the day previous. It was a guilty, suspicious silence that increased my uneasiness even further.

"Bye, Isleen," Meg dared to call out just before Solon guided me from the room. I flinched like I'd been stung, but did not call back to her. I thought I felt Solon's posture momentarily stiffen as well.

"Have you found out anything useful?" Lord Solon asked when we were back in his suite.

I had pulled off my mask and suddenly wished that I still donned it because a flush of color quickly covered my features as I recalled the personal information shared by Barev's concubines. "Well..." I felt obligated to tell him something, "I found out why your father has so many concubines."

"Probably because he bores easily or likes all the attention," Solon said with a tone of amusement and started to turn away.

"Actually, the women say he is insatiable. At least one girl every night, they claim." 

He turned back, inclining his head in consideration. Then he righted himself again and shook his head slowly. "I should have guessed that you'd never get anything useful from that group."

"Oh, I don't know," I said, assuming a playful tone that I'd never used with him before. "They might have taught me a handy thing or two."

Kara swept into the room, looking hopeful, yet uneasy to be in the same room with us. "What handy thing or two?" she wanted to know.

There was no way I was going to tell Kara what I'd heard. So, I started to laugh and was surprised to hear a deep chuckle from Solon too, probably guessing the sort of information to which I referred.

Kara turned toward him with a disbelieving look on her face. "Didn't you kill someone today, my lord?"

Solon's posture straightened and the laughter quickly died. "Yes, I did," he admitted quite seriously.

"Then why are you laughing?" Kara's tone gently scolded.

Solon pointed in my direction, not that Kara would see the gesture. "We were just talking."

"And not fighting for once," I added, feeling that was a fact worth mentioning.

Before Kara could prepare her retort, Dean was announcing that a late lunch was being served in a few minutes. 

"Good. I'm starved," I called back, heading for my room to change my outfit and find my blindfold. Thankfully, I was mentally blocking Kara's reminder about the execution; and wouldn't let it interrupt my good mood or ruin my appetite.

-----

Food that had very easily gone down at dinner, forced its way back up early the next morning. I threw up for several minutes until there was no longer food in my system. Then I was left with violent dry heaves that sapped my energy and tortured my stomach muscles.

Kara stayed with me through the worst parts then put me back to bed until Dr. Gahn arrived shortly before breakfast. The old Sulai took only a few minutes to look at me and ask some questions. He ordered me to stay in bed, drink lots of fluids and rest. For Kara and Dean he left specific orders to have everything in my room sanitized- especially my mask.

"We don't want Lord Solon catching this," Gahn said and promised to check in on me again later.

Solon had stayed out from under foot most of the morning, but showed up in my doorway before heading out to meet with Barev again. I thought for a moment he might say something, but the longer he stood there, it seemed less likely that he would.

"I'll stay out of trouble," I said, making a pretty easy promise to keep in this instance.

He nodded, such an exaggerated gesture with the bulk of his mask, and turned away. His heavy footfalls crossed to the suite door and in moments he was gone.

The majority of my day was spent sleeping. I did try drinking water or juice, only to throw it back up within minutes. Kara reported this to Dr. Gahn, who came by much later in the day to give me a vitamin injection to make up for the nutrients my body wasn't getting. 

The doctor was on his way out when Solon returned. The two exchanged words in Sulai just outside my room. "Good evening, my lord. How was your day?"

Solon gave a non-committal grunt and quickly switched topics. "How is Isleen?"




Mask of Pain Ch. 02



"Still quite ill, I'm afraid," the doctor said sorrowfully. "Go easy on her."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Solon asked with a sudden flare of anger.

Gahn hesitated; and I didn't blame him choosing his words carefully when faced with Solon's temper. 

"I apologize, my lord. I was only suggesting that you two should try not to argue so much. She is resting; and I'll be on my way- unless, you have reason for me to stay."

"No," Solon said quite firmly.

Though Gahn's quick strides were soon gone from the suite, Solon did not move from outside my doorway. My room was dark because I was supposed to be sleeping, but when he continued to linger just out of sight, I sat up and reached for the bedside light, turning it on.

"My lord," I said, "is something wrong?" From his tone with Gahn, I knew something had happened to make him angry; and since I'd spent the day in bed, I couldn't think of a reason for his mood to have been caused by me.

He stepped into the room, standing rigid and silent. The longer he went without speaking, the more scared I felt, which tensed my already sore stomach muscles.

"Did you tell those women," he began, sounding almost more hurt than angry, "that I beat you?"

I instantly regretted ever having spoken about him in front of the concubines. "No," I said quickly.

"Then why would they think that?" he pressed.

"I think it is because they asked about my mask," I said, feeling the urge to vomit again churning in my gut. "They wanted to know why I wore one. I repeated what you told Lord Barev, that I have scars. That's all I said. I didn't say you hurt me."

Perhaps his anger made it hard for him to accept my explanation, but eventually he turned from the doorway and went to his own room.

I felt guilt heavy in my chest as I sat there, thinking how I had again messed up the situation. It seemed impossible that I was ever going to earn Solon's trust when I made so many mistakes.

Though I feared his wrath, I wanted a chance to better explain myself. So, I bolstered up my courage and was soon out of the bed and moving through the suite. 

At his door, I knocked softly, unsure what I intended to say to him. When the door opened, he stood tall and silent for a while before turning away, to retreat deep into the room.

Was that a non-verbal invitation to come in? I wondered. Or was he trying to put space between us? 

With trepidation, I entered the room, my eyes feasting on the warm colors of its furnishings. I halted beside the glass case that held his many black and gold masks- each with a different design. There were easily ten, though I didn't actually take the time to count. 

I saw a mirror hanging above the case and took a few moments to mull over the discovery and my unsightly appearance before dragging my attention away to settle on Solon.

"I wanted to explain," I started slowly, continuing when he didn't interrupt. "The women are curious about you. They hoped I would be able to answer some of their questions...but, of course, I didn't. I assure you, that whatever they told Barev..."

"The guards told Barev," Solon interjected the correction. "The guards listen in on the women's conversations, Isleen. They report to him daily."

This news was a surprise to me. I had wrongfully assumed that Barev's guards wouldn't know much English, like the guards at the detention center hadn't. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Solon. I didn't realize. I was stupid."

"I never warned you," he said. "I can't blame this solely on you."

I waited, giving him a chance to continue if he wanted, but he didn't.

I asked with care, "What did your father say to you exactly?"

There was anger, but mostly embarrassment in his tone as he responded. "Barev was quite clear that you were to be my respected companion and that I should keep my battlefield ways out of our lovemaking."

It was sickening to hear him say those words and know that he had endured such a lecture from his father. 

"I know this is bad already, but...is the problem bigger than I realize?"

"I don't know yet. A lot depends on what he believes you said and what he thinks the guards have assumed."

"I didn't talk about us having sex. I haven't had enough experience to fake a good lie."

"So, you didn't say anything? Didn't make something up?"

"Not a word, I swear." My tone pleaded for him to believe me because I was telling the complete truth.

He said, "It is very important that you don't ever try to make up something, no matter how much Barev's women share with you."

"Women are always going to gossip. It's part of our nature. Eventually, I'll have to tell them something or they'll stop sharing with me. That's not going to make my spying on them any easier." 

Lord Solon was beginning to growl and fidget. "I don't want you talking about me to them."

"I know, but... I need something I can tell them or we're bound to have more of this same trouble. Everyone thinks I'm your concubine, remember? They assume I am the most intimate person in your life."

"Then tell them I yell and slam things, that I leave you alone all the time with nothing to do. But sex is off-limits."

It was irritating that he didn't understand my point, or was choosing to ignore it.

"It won't be enough, especially with what they already know about you."

"I forbid you to make stuff up."

"Why not? Who is it really going to hurt?"

Instantly he was in motion, crossing the space in three large strides to loom over me with clenched fists. "You cannot compare me to them!"

I cowered, but also stared openly at him. Even with his face covered, I could tell by the heavy silence that followed and the way he seemed to tremble a bit that he wanted this discussion over and perhaps me out of his personal space.

"You're making this impossible," I uttered before leaving his room. 

-----

My stomach flu persisted through another day, keeping me from doing much more than sleep. I didn't see Solon, though Kara and Dean insisted he had been in to check on me while I slept. Gahn also came to inject more nutrients into my veins.

"You'll be fine by tomorrow, dear," the old Sulai promised. "The vomiting has stopped and now you're catching up on needed sleep."

I woke again right before dinner and walked on unsteady legs to use the bathroom, only to return to find Lord Solon in my room.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, standing rigid as ever.

"Tired," I admitted, wondering about his mood. "Gahn says I should be much better tomorrow though."

"Good. You'll have a full day."

"Doing what?"

He stepped aside so I could climb back into bed. 

"One of Barev's women asked if you could accompany her to the shops. Since she asked politely... I decided to allow it."

"Meg?"

"I suppose that's her name," Solon said, with a hint of sarcasm to show that he didn't take notice of such minuscule details when it came to his father's concubines.

"I've never been to the shops." I let my gaze fall to the blankets. "It probably won't be that interesting with my mask on." 

"You'll have to be back for lunch with me," he continued. "Afterward, we're going to the Urgrosh for an inspection."

"What's the Urgrosh?"

"A battle cruiser - one of the largest and finest in the fleet," he said. "When Barev decided to divide my troops, the largest group of them was sent to serve on the Urgrosh." The pride was evident in his tone as he said 'my troops'. 

"Maybe you'll get to SEE some of them," I said, putting extra emphasis on the 'seeing' part.

Lord Solon picked up on my very obvious hint. He folded his thick arms across his massive chest. "Why don't you try asking me if you can have your other mask?"

"Are you going to say yes?"

"No."

I heaved a loud sigh that ended in a low growl. "That's why I don't ask. Everything has to be your way all the time."

"You haven't been very good at keeping your blindfold on."

"So, you're punishing me for inconveniencing you?"

"No, because you haven't been practicing being blind," he asserted. "I'm not confident that you can pretend well enough to avoid suspicion while you're ogling trinkets in the shops and chatting with your friend."

That fact that he had a reasonable explanation for his cruelty, didn't improve my attitude at all. I just wanted to be myself again for a few hours- unhindered by the charade we were playing out. 

I begged, "Try putting yourself in my place."

"You could try being more grateful," he countered.

This rebuke stung; and I realized we were going to be parting in anger once again. "Solon..." I began, speaking before he could make it to the door.

He stopped, turning his head toward me to listen.

"I'll go back to wearing my blindfold so you don't have to wear your mask all the time."

"I don't care about the mask. I'm used to it."

I stared at the fierce gold lines and angles that decorated his mask, feeling deeply ashamed and useless. "I wish you trusted me."

He was so near the door I expected he would take the opportunity to leave without responding. Instead, he moved a step closer.

"Tell me why I should trust you."

"Well..." I climbed back out of the bed, pushing to my feet to meet his challenge, "because I'm trying to help; and whether you believe it or not, I care. I don't want Barev to win. I hate him for what he's done to humanity, to Dean and Kara, and to you."

"I need dependability, Isleen – not sentiment."

"I'm not surprised you'd say something like that. Kara and Dean love you, but you choose to keep them at a distance. What are you so afraid of?"

"If you have to ask," he said in a poignant tone, "then you don't understand just how much danger we're all truly in."

It was another fine moment for a dramatic exit, which he chose to take advantage of this time. I heard him move through the suite to his own room, where he closed the door and grew quiet for quite some time.

Feeling drained and occupied with my thoughts, I slipped back into my bed to sulk.

-----

Kara was quite pleased to hear about my girls' morning out. After we had an early breakfast together in the dining room, she helped me dress and fussed over my hair, combing it out with long soothing strokes.

I was still admiring my outfit, a black gown layered in light-weight, flowing material with striking red accents, when I heard the door buzzer.

"Shall I ask her to wait in the other room while we finish your hair?" Kara asked, putting the brush beside my mask on the vanity.

"I'll just wear it down," I said, making a twirl so I could watch the dress move around me once more.

Kara stepped out to answer the door.

I picked up my mask and slipped it on, immediately recognizing the contrast between its unyielding design and the freedom of movement in the gown.

"Wow," I heard Meg say softly from behind me. "You do have the most beautiful clothes."

"I like the feel of this one," I admitted, running my fingers down the front where it gathered under my bust line.

"Does Lord Solon like it?" she asked.

"I haven't worn it before," I admitted. "It isn't always easy to tell how much he cares about my clothes."

"He must care some," Meg said, "because I've heard that you're the best dressed woman in the fleet."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say to that.

Meg took my hand. She was shivering with excitement. "Let's go have some fun."

I heard his heavy steps as Lord Solon approached and stepped into the doorway. I turned toward him, though I obviously couldn't see him.

"Good morning, my lord," Meg said to him, her fingers tightening around mine. "Thank you for giving us this time together."

"Keep Isleen out of trouble. Don't make me regret giving her some freedom."

"Of course, Lord Solon."

I gave Meg a gentle nudge to get moving as I could feel her trembling.

"Have a good morning," I told Solon as we passed.

"Be back for lunch," he reminded sternly. 

Meg was still getting used to the idea of me being blind for she kept trying to show me things as we walked the ship's promenade. Finally she learned to direct my hands to touch the items she was speaking about while she described them.

"Shall we get you something?" she asked after picking out a bolt of material for herself at one of the stores.

"I don't need anything. Lord Solon has the clothiers working on more outfits. If he felt I needed more, I'm sure he'd make arrangements."

"Oh, you're taking all the fun out of this," Meg teased. "Do you think Lord Solon would mind if we got you a simple piece of jewelry?"

I reached up to tap the metal encasing my head. "This doesn't count as jewelry?"

Meg giggled.

"Really I don't want anything," I pressed. "It's just nice to be with you. Kara tries to keep me company, but she has so much to do."

After a pause, Meg asked gently "Are you miserable with Lord Solon?"

"Sometimes," I admitted, "but he does try, in his own way."

"Some of us aren't so happy with Lord Barev either," she confessed in a whisper.

"Why not? You all made it sound like he's a wonderful lover."

Meg drew me over to a quiet place to sit before she continued. "I want to have a baby, Isleen, but Barev has said that he doesn't want to have any more children. So, he has put us all on these medicines to keep us from getting pregnant."

"Some of the others feel the same way?" It was a question with an obvious answer, but I had to throw out something to keep her from realizing that my mind was suddenly whirring.

"Quite a few of us, actually. We've tried speaking to him, but he'll hear none of it."

"Does he give a reason?"

"He thinks a baby will cause contention between the concubines and that Solon will feel like he's being replaced."

"I see." The reasons sounded valid enough, but my mind was still at work. "I can tell you are very disappointed, Meg. I'm sorry."

"I know there's nothing to be done about it. Thanks for listening though." She pulled me into a temporary embrace, sniffling and sighing in turn before shaking off the emotion and dragging me to my feet. 

"We haven't much time left. What would you like to do?" she asked, forcing her tone to sound happier.

"Do you know the way to Dr. Gahn's lab?" I asked.

"I think so," she said. "Are you feeling ill again?"

"Just a little," I lied, but actually felt my stomach immediately ache from the guilt of not being truthful. "If you don't mind walking me over there, he can take me back to the suite afterward."

Meg agreed and gathered her bolt of cloth. She took my hand once more.

"Do you have access to the medical files for Barev's concubines?" I immediately asked when Dr. Gahn and I were alone in his lab.

"Not usually," he said. "Herza is their physician."

"Meg told me that Barev has the concubines taking medicines to keep them from getting pregnant."

"That is generally how it is done," he said, managing to sound bored with my choice of conversation. He was moving about the room, making small noises like he was tidying up. 

"If Barev is so adamant about not having any more children, why wouldn't he just have them sterilized like he ordered you to do to me?" I pressed.

"Well... I suppose..."

I pulled off my mask and trained my gaze on his snow-white features, which were tight with puzzlement. "I think there's something fishy going on," I said. "Could you look into it for me?"

"Isleen," he began, straightening up his posture for a soft delivery of a stern lecture, "haven't you got more important things to do than investigate the mating habits of the Sulai leader?"

I felt immediate embarrassment. "Solon told you about that?"

"I AM his foremost confidant."

"I know it sounds stupid, but I really do think we should put a little effort into finding out what is going on. If anything, it might improve my standing with the concubines."

"How so?"

"Well, maybe we could find a way to counteract their medicines."

"Oh no. We are not going to do any such thing." Suddenly his gestures were big and wild. "I've managed to keep my position and my head all these years by not nosing into the affairs of other doctor's patients."

"But..."

He shook his calloused finger at me with a show of finality. "No." 

I huffed and glared at him, clenching my teeth and pursing my lips angrily. "Between you and Solon, I can't do my job at all."

"Maybe you should try more listening and less talking," he suggested.

I noted Gahn's smug expression and glared even harder. It was like he was silently saying that he was better than me because he knew Solon's secret and Solon confided in him.

"I don't like you."

He responded with little to no show of emotion, "I never asked you to like me."

That cinched it. I was at a loss of words and motivation to continue arguing. I tugged on my mask, noticing how the heat on my cheeks made the confined space seem even more stifling.

"Can you escort me back?" It pained me to ask after his mean words.

"I guess I have little choice. We can't have you stumbling about the ship unsupervised now can we?"

-----

I was late for lunch with Solon. The dining room doors were closed; and I chose to take it as a sign that I should retire to my room and sulk in solitude.

"She's home," I heard Kara report from the other room just after I'd re-donned my mask (a necessity for the mood) and flopped on the bed.

The swish of her dress skirt entered my room. I remained motionless among the pillows.

"You had us a little worried, dear," Kara said in her best motherly tone. "Get your blindfold and come quick while the food is still warm."

Though I hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast, I didn't feel hungry. "No thank you," I said flatly.

Always astute, Kara asked gently, "Did something happen with your friend?"

"No."

"Was that Dr. Gahn that brought you back?"

"You know it was, Kara. I couldn't sneak someone past you if I wanted to."

"Then something happened with him," she said, balancing the tone of the phrase between a question and a fact.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"Very well." She left the room, soon to be heard speaking softly to the men in the dining room.

It wasn't even a minute, by my best guess, and Solon's heavy footfalls were approaching my door. I didn't know what he would say or do to me, so I should have been more afraid. Instead, I just felt sad and small and hopeless.

"I don't suggest sleeping in that thing," Solon said dryly. "It will leave bruises."

I didn't laugh or even smile under the mask. Plus, comfort was the least of my cares just then.

He came further into the room, and I flinched when suddenly the bed shifted under his weight. I knew he was very close to me, but I couldn't feel him, which lead me to assume he was perched on the very edge.

"Why don't you take your mask off? I know you hate it."

"Maybe I'm getting used to it," I said with boldness.

"Not likely," he said, unimpressed by my attitude. "I'm trying to talk to you."

"Go ahead and talk then. I won't interrupt."

"I would prefer to speak to you without the mask," he added pointedly.

The irony of his words made me chuckle despite myself. "Now you know how the rest of us feel," I declared loudly, realizing quickly that it shouldn't matter to Kara and Dean at all if he wore the mask. 

He didn't respond, which actually disappointed me.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" I challenged.

With a sigh, he said "I promised Kara we weren't going to argue today."

"But that's all we're good at."

There was more silence. I wondered if I'd pushed him too far again. I was effectively cornered on the bed, at a terrible disadvantage size wise and blinded by my mask.

Again Dean had snuck up on me, for I wasn't aware of his presence until I heard him speak softly from the doorway. "Sometimes a woman just needs her space," he advised Solon. "Come finish eating. You don't want to be late for your transport."




Mask of Pain Ch. 02



The bed re-shifted as Solon rose to his feet. "I don't think we're going today, Dean. Send word to Rashk."

"Are you certain, my lord. You've been looking forward..."

Solon cut him off with strained civility, "Please just do as I ask."

Dean was instantly apologetic and respectful. "Right away, my lord."

The suite grew quiet with Dean's exit and Solon standing silently beside my bed. If I strained my ears, I could barely hear the clink of the dishes as Kara worked at the dining room table.

I didn't know what I'd set out to prove with the whole confrontation so it was rather unsatisfying. The fact that Solon had canceled his trip to the Urgrosh had me reflecting on his own motives. He could have gone without me. I wasn't completely sure I was the reason for his decision. Perhaps he just used the situation to his own advantage to get out of a task he didn't want to do, though Dean was obviously convinced otherwise.

"Kara and I had a long talk this morning," Solon said finally. 

"About me?"

"More specifically, it was about you and me. Kara has taken care of me my entire life, Isleen. She rarely asks me for anything."

I made the obvious guess. "She doesn't want us arguing."

"It's more than that. She wants us to be... friends," he said, with slightly more emphasis applied to the last word.

"Is that even possible?" I asked gloomily, laden with my own pessimism.

"You don't think so?"

"Friends trust each other. They share confidences."

I heard him move away and the soft thump as he shut my bedroom door. Then, as his footsteps returned to the bedside I felt a stab of uncertainty in my chest because I didn't know what he was doing or the effects of my words on his mood.

"If you want to know the reason I wear this mask," he began, "then... you'll have to take off yours first."

It was strange how my heart seemed to suddenly beat faster and yet my mind was slow to process what he'd said. I must have been weighed down with disbelief because it seemed to take extra effort to sit up and gather my legs underneath me for support so I could use my hands to work the clasps and push the bulky mask off.

Solon moved a few steps back, closer to the center of the room. I watched as his confident stance seemed to deflate before my eyes.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, all too aware of his discomfort and my own. I didn't know if I was truly ready for what was beneath that mask.

Solon's head lowered. He looked away. His posture slouched even further and slowly his gloved hands reached up, manipulating the clasps on his mask. He lifted it away to reveal pale, yet smooth skin, dark brown hair and eyes, a wide jaw, thin lips and a long, yet not too broad nose for the shape of his human features.

I stared and my mind took him in, trying to make sense of the reality before me. 

He studied my expression with troubled eyes. "Well...?"

"You look like...Dean," I somehow managed to say, though very softly. There was no longer need to wonder what the old servant had looked like in his younger years, for Solon had to be the spitting-image of him- at least in looks if not body size.

Solon stepped closer again, dropping his mask on the bed beside my own. He tugged off his gloves to reveal more of his pale flesh. Then our eyes met again. 

"Barev knows I'm human."

"Why would he choose to raise you as his son?"

"I was supposed to be the first hybrid child born after the invasion. Barev hyped up my arrival a great deal to the fleet. After all that boasting, he couldn't very well admit that I wasn't his."

Slowly the pieces began to come together in my mind- the masks, costumes, blinding Kara and Dean, but something didn't make sense. "Surely you knew you were human? He couldn't hide that fact from you."

"For a long time I didn't know," Solon admitted, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the bed in front of me. "There never used to be mirrors or reflective surfaces in my rooms. I believed I was disfigured, as Barev had told everyone. That difference made me angry and I pushed myself to become an acceptable son for him."

"The great warrior that everyone fears?"

"Yes, but as I led raid after raid against the rebels and saw their bodies littered across the battlefields, I began to realize that what I saw of my own body was more like theirs than any Sulai."

"It must have been a painful revelation."

"Yes, so I confronted Gahn. He told me about my mother and what Barev did to her to cover up the truth."

"Barev can't believe that you'll never figure this out."

"I think he suspects that I have. A few months ago, he began limiting my involvement with the army. He's assigned me endless inspections and executions to keep me busy."

"Do you think he's going to try to kill you?"

"He's had plenty of opportunity. Something is keeping him from acting and I need to figure out what."

"I want to help; and I'll be more careful," I promised, realizing that I had a lot of rethinking to do about the man that sat before me. 

"Kara and Dean must have figured it out long before I did, even without vision. I'm sure they kept their silence to protect me, knowing I would be in danger if the truth got out."

I pondered what it must have been like for him masquerading right beneath the noses of the enemy, forced to play their power games. I pulled my arms up around me. "God, how frightening."

Solon reached out to touch my hand. His own hand was warm, though his skin felt dry. "I'm sorry to put this on you, Isleen."

An apology was the last thing I expected from him. Without the mask between us, it was like he was an entirely different person- gentler and more vulnerable. His proximity, the heartfelt sentiment in his eyes, and the physical connection proved to be frighteningly arousing to me. It was a foreign and unsettling sensation.

"You have done a lot for me," I said.

"I haven't been very...kind to you."

"Doesn't matter," I said, suddenly compelled to draw my hand away from him and the body heat he seemed to radiate.

"What's wrong?"

"I... need to rest," I said, realizing that it sounded like a lie, even to myself. 

His posture stiffened again. An uncertain frown appeared to weigh down his features. He nodded, reaching for his mask and then standing. Still feeling overwhelmed, I didn't take the time to decipher what his reaction could mean. Then in a few moments, he was gone.

I pulled the blankets around me and settled back against the pillows. I didn't think a nap would be an option considering the conflicting thoughts and images that were wrestling in my head. Solon had threatened to kill me on more than one occasion; and yet, there was something in his dark, revealing eyes that stirred emotion deep inside me. There was no denying the truth, I was incredibly attracted to him and partly because of all he had suffered and the strength he had drawn from it.