The Pharoah Contract

Swallowing with some difficulty, Ruiz spoke politely. “Honorable Dolmaero, favor me with your wisdom.”

Dolmaero looked at Ruiz, his heavy jaws working. He grunted, which Ruiz took to be permission to proceed.

“It was kind of you to inform me this afternoon,” Ruiz continued, “but perhaps you’ll be generous again, and tell me of the woman who lies in the House of the Alone.”

Dolmaero looked away and Ruiz thought at first that Dolmaero would not answer. Then he looked back at Ruiz with hard eyes and spat a bit of imitation redstem on the ground. “She was brought here by demons. She was barely conscious. I instructed the women to move her to the House, that our souls not be tarnished by her death.”

“It may be that she isn’t dying,” Ruiz said.

“Her wounds were terrible,” Dolmaero said. “Were you at Bidderum when she died?”

Ruiz was momentarily taken aback. Somehow he was not prepared for that question, so he dissembled.

“Her wounds seem minor, now. Who knows what amuses the gods?” Ruiz said.

Dolmaero laughed bitterly. “Wherever we are, it’s not the Land of Reward. And now, get away. Your familiarity infringes on my dignity.”

The tall man rose and assumed a threatening posture, his face a mask of disapproval and eager violence.

Ruiz shrugged and returned to the robocart to reload his plate. He carried it back to his hut, and as he stepped inside he sensed that the phoenix was awake.

* * *

“Who… who is there?” she asked in a tiny dry voice.

She was attempting, without much success, to sit up. Ruiz hastened to help her. Setting the plate aside, he lifted her so that she rested against the wall. She appeared confused, as was natural for one who had undergone a death, however short.

“Don’t be afraid, Noble Person,” Ruiz said softly, reassuringly. “It’s Wuhiya, a simple seller of dreams, who attends you.”

Her eyes snapped wide open. “This is the Land of Reward?” she asked in a stronger voice. “Where is the light, where the godservants? I hear no music. What has happened?”

Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with imminent tragedy. She looked at Ruiz and recoiled, clutching to her the rough tunic that had fallen away when she sat up. “You’re casteless,” she accused. “Oh, what’s gone wrong?”

Ruiz felt a strong impulse to comfort her — but how? She huddled back against the wall, her eyes darting about the disordered hut.

“Try to calm yourself,” Ruiz said. “True, this isn’t the Land of Reward, but things might be worse. We’re alive; here is food and water and shelter from the sun. And you’ll soon be feeling better.”

She was hearing nothing he said. “My servants… such a terrible dream…” she muttered, her voice growing weak again. Her fingers pulled at the tangles in her hair, and the cloth that covered her torso slid down, exposing her scars, still faintly puckered in the smooth skin of her belly. She looked down absently and saw them. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth as if to scream, and then her eyes rolled back in her head.

“You faint a lot,” Ruiz said, catching her before she could thump her head on the wall. Ruiz arranged her as comfortably as possible on the cot, then bathed away the sweat of her exertions. It was best to let her sleep, he thought. He settled down to his dinner, now cold. He ate mechanically, but he finished every scrap. He began to feel stronger, for the first time since Bidderum.

He sat beside her far into the night, long after he could see nothing but a shapeless darkness where she lay.

* * *

In the morning, she still slept when the robocart made its appearance. Ruiz came out to get his share of breakfast. The other prisoners were still distant, though Dolmaero favored him with a curt nod. Ruiz found a sunny section of wall away from the others. The food was not tasty, but doubtless it was sufficiently nourishing to maintain slaves in salable condition. It probably contained a multitude of beneficial additives, and Ruiz returned for another helping when he was done. When next she woke, he’d attempt to get some food into the phoenix.

Dolmaero eyed Ruiz as he heaped his plate full again, and he had the sensation that Dolmaero watched him with more suspicion than before. The tall coercer, who seemed to be Dolmaero’s dog, stood up and made as if to approach, his nostrils flaring with combative anticipation. Ruiz smiled disarmingly and returned to his hut.

The phoenix still lay quiet, but she breathed easily, and when he touched the back of his hand to her forehead, her skin was cool. He set the food aside for later.