Leda was amused but he was not. The blonde brute sat there and was deep in thoughts. I knew he needed a thrall but he did not seem to have the resources to have one. His house was too small. Where would a thrall sleep? The kitchen table could hardly seat three people and even then it looked too big for the kitchen. And their bedroom was just a bed that sat close to a corner alongside a big wardrobe, with no walls. Any thrall living here would see them at night. Could easily slip into their room with a knife. Maybe he planned on making me work to make his house bigger.
"If I am to tutor the children of the village, I will need a bed," I said and this took him out of his thoughts.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"I said that I will need a place to sleep," I replied.
"You mentioned tutoring the children," he said.
Leda was silently observing this back and forth with big eyes, herself resembling a child, anxious about making any noise that might arouse her husband's anger again.
I, on the other hand, was a lot more confident than a few minutes ago. When Leda spoke Manusha's name, it made me feel his power alight in me. He did say his power grows as people worship him.
"When I was on the road," I said, careful about the words I was using, "I saw children playing..."
"They don't need no tutor," he grunted as he stood up, "tomorrow I am selling you."
Selling me makes a lot more sense but...
I quickly thought about the situation; he was quick to make me his thrall, only to sell me the next day? A quick look at his house confirmed that he needed money, indeed.
Am I OK with being sold, though? I thought.
His wife has helped me before and she seemed to be appreciative of my presence. That means she may help me again. As for the blonde viking, he was a big brute, yes, but I was sure there was a weakness somewhere I could exploit.
To whom would he sell me though? Someone rich, maybe? Someone with other thralls? Back on Earth, during slavery, slave masters branded their slaves. Would that new owner brand me as well? Would a slave brand mark me as a slave for the rest of my life? Hell no!
"You could sell me," I told blondie, "Or, you could make the people of your village pay you to make me tutor their children."
"I have thought of that but the children here don't need no tutor," he said.
I did not know his reasoning but it sounded like it hid a greater debate about the utilitarian uses of scholastic tutelage in a remote and rural community and just thinking about that exhausted me already. But I really did not want to be branded a slave for the rest of my life.
I looked at him in his eyes and spoke.
"I think the children here are in dire need of tutelage," my words came louder than I spoke them and rang through the whole house, endlessly echoing until the brute seemed entranced by them. He stood there, staring blankly, his mouth hanging open.
Even Leda, to whom I did not speak, was looking at me the way I had only seen in true believers of experienced politicians when the latter spoke.
"Ye-yea, maybe they do," blondie whispered and I saw that his mind lingered in that trance-like state Manusha's power put people into.
If this all is a dream, could I...? I had a wicked thought.
"I will also need a bed to sleep in," I said before he came back from the trance, "you don't mind if I use yo-" I stuttered as I thought about what I was asking.
This house was tiny and there was only one bed here and barely any space for anybody else. If I ask him for his place on his bed, that would mean sleeping with...
I looked at Leda and I noticed what a beautiful woman she was. She was wearing the same clothes in which I saw her earlier this afternoon when we first met but this time, I noticed the shapes of her body. Her hips stretched the layers of fabric on the sides, under her delicate waistline. Her breasts appeared perfectly round and the neckline of her dress allowed for a glimpse of her cleavage. Her neck was thin, and her face was adorable. She still looked at me with those big true believer eyes. I had a wicked thought and blushed just from it.
None of this is real anyway, I thought, trying to reassure myself.
"You don't mind if-," I began, my heart was racing, "if I sleep on your bed, do you?"
"With us, on the bed?" asked this absolute fool, still entranced by Manusha's powers.
"Uh-no, you... you're not sleeping... with us," I said and then paused.
I waited until he agreed. He squinted hard at the air above my head before, to my surprise, he finally agreed.
"OK," he said, the muscles of his jaw flexing a little, "where do I sleep, then?"
"I don't care," I told him before quickly adding, "just don't bother us when we're in bed, got that?"
This actually cut off his breath and I heard it. His mouth produced a little aspirated gasp before he answered "No!" a little too loud. "I will not bother you," he said and slowly came back to reality.
I looked at Leda once more and she her cheeks were bright red as she eyed the ground like she had dropped something.
Viking guy slowly gained his composure back and was shaking his head, looking a little disoriented.
"But..." he said, fighting very hard to get the words out. When he finally completely came back, he went on "I am watching you, thrall!"
For some moment, we all just kind of stood there.
Leda finally spoke "I will set one more seat at the table for you, uh-" she swiftly looked at her husband before finishing her sentence, "... uh, for Gayan," and walked between me and her husband, scurrying to the kitchen like a mouse that got caught in the open.
I wanted to push things. I wanted to see how far I can go with this. I also wanted to check if this man really just allowed me to sleep with his wife.
"Where will you-" I started but he also began speaking at the same time.
"Thralls don't-" he stopped. We interrupted each other.
"Thralls don't eat with their masters," he said, almost grumbling.
"You would rather I eat on the bed I will sleep on?" I asked, reminding him of what he just agreed to and at that, this big hairy husk of veiny muscles blushed like a little girl.
"And where will you sleep, uh-" I remembered he never actually introduced himself to me, "What did you say your name was?"
"Mikhil, son of Harald," he said puffing his chest. There was pride here. This man will kill me if I hurt his ego.
But all of this is just a dream, anyway!
"Is there somewhere you can go to sleep?" I asked him, a little too cocky for my own taste.
"Go?" his eyes threatened another outburst of anger.
He took a step towards me, his mouth contorted into a rageful grin, "How dare you push me away from my own house, thrall?"
Now, I did let out a small barely audible yelp but I quickly regained my composure and spoke with my palms spread in front of me, "I am just concerned for your wellbeing, Mikhil."
He looked at me. I was definitely within range of his arms and I thought he was seriously considering hitting for a moment. As a rule, I don't fight fights I am not sure to win so I began anticipating myself against the blows of this blonde giant.
From the other room, Leda called, "Dinner!" and Mikhil slowly turned away. I let out a breath I had no idea I was holding and slowly followed behind him.
This man's back was twice the width of mine. Even if I were to attack him by surprise from behind, I might have to straddle on his back to reach the front of his neck. That he could maneuver at all in such a cramp house itself was a wonder.
Leda stood at one side of the table, Mikhil sat at the head, next to his wife, and I on the side opposite her.
Mikhil's plate was polished iron, maybe even steel. Mine was crude and dented and Leda's was made of wood. I was given only a wooden spoon for cutlery while Mikhil had a iron knife and fork.
Leda placed two small cooking pots on the table and served Mikhil with a one spoon of gruel from one pot and a few spoonful of a thick broth with meat chops from the other pot. It smelled alright but I knew better than to say anything.
Mikhil didn't wait and began to noisily munch at his meal. The air was soon filled with the sound of his metal cutlery grating against his plate, of his moans between mouthfuls and the occasional belch.
Leda took my plate and filled it with gruel before adding one spoon of the broth. I was ready to protest but then I saw how she was actually checking if her husband was looking as she handed me my plate back in that discreetly hurried way I began to be accustomed to seeing in her movements. She seemed permanently anxious and scared of what Mikhil might say about anything she does. I figured there must be some trauma hidden there. I made a mental note of it.
For herself, Leda took a few spoons of the gruel, leaving only enough to maybe serve Mikhil a second time, and barely any of the broth.
I waited for her to sit down before starting. She closed her eyes and began reciting what I assumed was a prayer.
I had an idea.
I sat up, closer to the table, my leg stroking hers under the table. This interrupted her prayer and she opened her eyes.
I whispered, trying not to disturb Mikhil, "Would you like to say thanks to Manusha for the meal?"
"Uh-," she looked at Mikhil who hadn't looked up from his plate since he started eating.
I took her hand and told her to repeat after me. I closed my eyes but spied her from time to time to see if she closed hers as well and I began,
"Manusha," I said and she repeated after me. Immediately, I felt shivers crawling up my body.
"Thank you for this meal," I continued, "and thank you for putting us together at this table."
Leda repeated the words and her voice sounded like music. The night outside seemed louder and I felt a surge of energy in me. I looked at Leda, her eyes were still closed and it cost me real effort to not caress her delicate face. She appeared more beautiful the more I looked at her.
After a moment of silence, she slowly opened her eyes. I was still admiring her when she spoke.
"Is that it?" She said.
"Oh, yes, Thank Manusha for the meal," I said with a smile which she reciprocated.
This ought to be enough for the night, I thought.
We kept holding hands for a minute before she threw a glance in her husband's direction. Then, as if alarmed, she let go of my hand, picked her spoon and began to pretend like she was busy eating.
It was only then that I noticed that the sound of fork and knife against iron had stopped completely. Slowly, I picked up my spoon as well and began to eat.
Next to me, I could feel Mikhil's presence, looming next to me, leaning elbows over the table and grumbling so close to me, my ears rang with unspoken but intense suspicion.
None of this is real, I thought once more to myself, my spoon shaking as I lifted it from my plate.