WOW it has been a year and two days since I updated this story, where has the time gone? Like the last piece, this one was initially meant to be more comedic, and swiftly ended up not that way. I’m learning to let the story dictate what it wants to be instead of trying to force it.
They settle into a type of rhythm after a few weeks. Danil is quiet, shy. He always keeps an eye on Janos’ hands as if he’s waiting for him to strike out with them. But he no longer flinches at every move the blacksmith makes. Once or twice, Janos has even seen him smile.
Janos has gotten used to having another person around. Twice in the first week, he forgot that Danil was there and accidentally left the boy without food overnight. But now he always remembers, and Danil has begun to gain a little weight as a result. He has a long way to go before he’s back to being relatively healthy, but he looks less starved. And he’s gotten stronger. Janos has learned to choose tasks in the forge that Danil can manage, and he’s learned that offering a simple “good work” when Danil finishes them helps ease the boy’s fear like nothing else.
Maybe this isn’t so bad, Janos decides. I didn’t like this plan, but it isn’t so terrible after all.
Danil doesn’t know it, but they already did a test run. Janos had sent him to deliver a set of knives to a carpenter- it was a real carpentry shop, but the man that had answered the door had been Masaan instead of the true carpenter. It had gone flawlessly. Janos had asked Danil about it, and the boy had said quietly that no one had even so much as looked at him. Janos had had to hide a smile of his own- that was exactly what they needed.
And there was another thing that had settled much of Janos’ worries- Masaan had given the boy a coin. A single bell, barely worth anything. Janos had asked him to do it as a sort of test.
Danil had passed with flying colors, handing the coin to Janos along with the empty satchel. “He gave me this,” he’d said, sounding unsure of himself.
“He was happy with the knives?”
“I think so.”
“Hm. Good.” And then Janos had tossed him the coin back. “You earned it, not me,” he’d replied to Danil’s startled look.
He isn’t sure what he would have done if the boy had pocketed it. He wouldn't trust him for the mission, that was for sure. He’d probably have needed to try again with a new slave. But could I really have sent him back to prison? Especially knowing what would happen to him?
Janos shakes his head. Enough thinking in hypotheticals! He passed the test, get on with it! He pulls a scrap of paper off the wall, telling him what needs to be done today.
As soon as he reads the writing, he groans aloud.
“Is something wrong?” Danil asks, looking up from feeding coal to the forge fire. The brand on his neck has healed enough that it can be left uncovered, but it’s still a dull red, not yet fully mended. The lion’s head seems to glare at Janos today- that cursed Imperial symbol.
Janos stabs the paper back through its nail with more force than necessary. “I hate the Imperials, boy,” he grunts. “Hate them. The ones that aren’t brutes are idiots and the ones that aren’t idiots are brutes.” He goes to the wall of weapons- the fancy trinkets, not the actual usable things- and takes down the most ridiculous one of them all.
It’s a scimitar forged of silver, the blade elegantly filigreed and inlaid with gold. Precious stones in shades of blue and green adorn the curved hilt, and the pommel is inlaid with a large, perfect black pearl. It’s one of the most lovely things Janos has ever crafted. And it is entirely useless.
“This absurd thing was commissioned by the Lady Donima.” Janos snorts. “She’s very fond of my shop. She has a whole collection of my bejeweled weapons by now.”
“What does she want them for?” Danil asks. Janos is surprised he already feels confident enough to ask questions, but glad of it all the same.
“Storms take me if I know,” he replies. “Probably the same as the rest of them. She wants pretty, expensive things to look at.” He hands the sword to Danil. “Polish that. Carefully. She’ll be coming by later to pick it up. And she’s likely to stay around for a while, which will of course interrupt my work, but what would an Imperial care about that? Ridiculous woman.”
Danil takes the sword, his lips twitching.
“What?” Janos asks.
“Does this Imperial lady fancy you?”
Janos feels his face go hot. “She imagines that she does,” he admits grudgingly. “And also imagines that I return her affections. She’s a senseless imbecile, even by Imperial standards. To her feather brain, my obvious lack of interest is only because I don’t want to admit my feelings for her, in a stupid show of reputation or something like that. Madwoman.” He realizes that he’s been rambling and waves his hand. “Enough about that! Back to work with you!”
He pretends not to notice the way Danil’s lips are pressed together, trying not to let a laugh slip between them.
As Janos has come to expect, the Lady Donima turns her arrival into an event. The woman parades herself down the artisans’ street on a palanquin draped in gold, borne on the shoulders of strong slaves (also draped in gold.) She lounges in a nest of cushions, preening and primping and waving grandly at the gaping mouths of the passersby. She is followed, as always, by a quartet of muscular guards with spears in hand. And, also as always, her outfit is completely ridiculous. She’s dressed herself to match the sword, clad in silver cloth inlaid with gold threads, jewelry made of green and blue jewels and black pearls.
Anyone in the Empire would be dazzled by this woman. Anyone but Janos. To Janos, this display is just like the weapons on the front wall- beautiful, sparkling, and completely useless. Just the cost of her headpiece alone could keep half a district fed for weeks. The Imperials love their glamour, and they’ll never know how much Janos hates them for it.
Well. Not until Masaan gets the plan moving, anyway.
Janos doesn’t bother pasting on a smile as he moves out into the street to greet his patroness. Half the reason she likes him so much is because he doesn’t flatter and fawn over her the way most people do. He’s well aware that she sees him as the object of a chase, a prize that will be all the more satisfying for the difficulty of it.
"Lady Donima," he says, with a short bow, and offers his hand to help her out of her litter.
The woman exits delicately, brushing imaginary dust off her fabulous dress. She huffs, shakes her head- making the jewels in her hair sparkle lavishly in the midday sun- and then beams at him. "Janni, my favorite craftsman!"
Stars and storms. "A pleasure to see you again," Janos replies. He knows his neutral tone won't offend her; she thinks of him as her mysterious quarry, and his barely-hidden disinterest seems to her as a mask. Her goal- as well he knows- is to get close enough to remove it.
Lady Donima is perhaps unaware that not every eligible man and woman in the Empire is completely and utterly infatuated with her. Eligible, of course, meaning only Imperials or those connected with them. If a poor shop keeper dared sigh over an Imperial lord or lady they'd be lucky not to be executed the next morning.
"Of course you have my commission ready," Lady Donima trills. "I've been so excited to see you! It, I mean. Is it beautiful, Janni? Is it the most lovely thing you've ever made?"
Another blacksmith might have bowed and fawned to her. Janos does neither. "Come in and judge for yourself," he says, in his most neutral tone.
Lady Donima fans herself frantically as she steps through the door, giggling like a little girl. "Oh, I do love your little shop, it's so- rustic. One does get awfully tired of silks and ribbons. Wood and stone are so refreshing, aren't they?"
"Mm," Janos mumbles, by way of answer.
Lady Donima scans the wall of jeweled weapons, her lower lip beginning to jut out in what she probably assumes to be a very attractive pout. "Mine isn't here."
As if summoned by her words, Danil appears out of the shadows, his eyes trained on the floor. Janos can practically smell the nervousness in the boy- he hasn't been this close to an Imperial for a long time. The scimitar is perfectly polished, and Janos holds his hand out for it.
Lady Donima screams as if she's seen a rat.
Danil startles so badly he almost drops the scimitar. Janos raises his eyebrow. "Is everything all right?"
The woman is shaking, white-faced and tight-lipped. She looks to be, very suddenly, in absolute mortal terror. "Janni," she whimpers. "Janni, what is that?"
She's staring directly at Danil.
Oh, storms. "Only my slave, Lady Donima."
"But- but that brand. He's one of the ones from the prisons, isn't he?" Lady Donima seems genuinely afraid. She backs away from Danil as if he's about to pounce on her.
Janos takes the scimitar from him and, perhaps slightly more roughly than he ought to, pushes Danil away. "Get back to your chores," he orders, stepping close to add under his breath "Outside. Don't come back until she's gone."
Danil nods, wide-eyed. He looks like he doesn't know what to think.
Janos has no time to think. He turns back to the lady, offering her the scimitar.
She shies away from it with a trembling hand, her eyes still trained on the door Danil has gone out of. "Oh, Janni, how could you?"
"My lady, I don't-"
"Everyone knows the ones from the prisons are dangerous!" Lady Donima presses a delicate hand to her mouth as if in deep distress. "Why would you be so foolish as to buy one of them? You'll be murdered in your sleep, and then who will make pretty things for me?"
"I am quite capable of handling a single slave boy," Janos replies stiffly.
"But, Janni, you haven't even got a whip or anything! You don't know how- how- savage these common folk can be. I never buy any of them myself, and certainly never out of the prison surplus! What can you have been thinking?" Lady Donima's voice is shrill. "You shall certainly be murdered. What will I do if my favorite weaponsmith is murdered?"
"You will find another, I'm sure." It's a risk being so dry with the Imperials, but Janos' frustration is rising steadily.
"Couldn't you get a bodyguard or some such thing?"
Janos stares at her. A bodyguard. Me. Is she daft? "There is no need, my lady, I assure you."
She whimpers, and Janos almost believes he can see tears in her eyes. This is truly how the Imperials see the world, he realizes suddenly. So twisted by their belief that they are above the rest that this woman is genuinely frightened of a common slave boy who has far more reason to be afraid of her.
Janos' thoughts stray to the knife tucked under his mattress. Have I become a bit too Imperial myself, then? He shakes his head to clear the image. "My lady-"
She startles, the fear in her eyes fading, replaced by a look of contemplation Janos does not like. "I have an excellent idea," she announces. "It'll be a surprise, Janni. And an excuse to visit here again." She laughs, tracing a finger up his arm.
Janos resists the urge to pull away- as much as she is fond of the chase, he's a dead man if he lets on that he isn't truly playing her game. "Your scimitar, Lady," he says, offering her the gaudy weapon.
She grimaces. "Clean it first. He was touching it; it's probably diseased."
Wordlessly, Janos obeys. What else can he do?
The Lady Donima takes her commission and leaves at last, promising to turn up again soon. Janos stands at the workbench while her litter disappears down the dusty lane, his fists clenched so hard they're trembling. Anger courses through him like the yearly floods through a dry riverbed.
He waits until it subsides to go and fetch Danil.
The boy is on his knees in the courtyard, pouring out a bucket of water at the base of Janos' scrubby tree. It looks like it isn't the first one; he still can't carry a full bucket. Janos overlooks pointing out that the tree has survived without being watered for years now and Danil's efforts will make very little difference. "She's gone," he says instead.
Danil scrambles up. "I-I didn't cause you any trouble, did I?" he asks anxiously. Janos reads the question behind the question, what the boy's really asking. Are you going to send me back?
"No," he says, answering both at once. "Lady Donima is...stars, the only word for it is Imperial. She only fancies me because I'm an Imperial Master. If I was still just a poor blacksmith she'd not spare a glance for me."
"She did seem to like you," Danil murmurs. "I was surprised."
Janos looks up, catching the tiny smile tugging at the boy's lips as he ventures what might be a joke. "Quiet, you," he says, keeping his voice serious. "I'll have you know I once had two Imperial princes propose marriage to me in the same afternoon."
Danil's eyes widen. "Really?"
"No."
A laugh bursts out before Danil can force it back down. He looks startled by the sound of it, glancing up at Janos as if afraid he's going to be angry at him for laughing. Janos merely raises an eyebrow, and the slight smile returns to the boy's face. Is it bigger now, more open, or is it merely Janos' imagination?
He holds a hand to his forehead, glancing up at the sun. "Let's get back to work while we've still got daylight. The gods only know what that woman will order next."
——————————————————————————
A week later, with no sign of Lady Donima, Janos begins to think she's forgotten her strange promise, and stops worrying about it. Naturally, the next day brings an unexpected visit from the patroness.
Danil bites his lip when he sees who's arrived, instantly seeming to shrink in on himself. Janos sighs as he wipes his hands on his apron. "Stay out of sight this time, boy. I'll try to stop her from coming in, but you might have to slip outside if she won't be persuaded."
She's ridden a horse this time instead of taking her ridiculous litter. Still, the horse's mane is plaited with silver thread that shimmers in a way that no imitation could, and the high, ornate saddle she perches in wouldn't be misplaced on an elephant. She's brought only two guards with her this time; Janos elbows past them to help her down from the horse.
Against her chest she clutches a narrow box.
"I can't stay long, Janni," she says, pouting a little. "There's a party I just can't miss. But I just had to see you first. I've been frantic with worry, you know." She says it almost accusingly.
"I can take care of myself, my lady."
"I know." For a moment, the teasing returns, as she reaches out to tap flirtatiously at Janos' bicep. He lets her. He can do nothing else.
Then she collects herself, shaking off the playful attitude. "But this will help." She pushes the box at him.
Janos isn't sure why he's afraid to open it. He sighs, steels himself, and takes off the lid.
"I can't accept this." The words come out flatter than he wants them to.
"You must!" Lady Donima grasps his arm. "I had it made just for you, Janni. Mine has jewels on it, but I told the man that you would like it better if it were plain. I know you so well, don't I? As much as I wanted to put just one ruby-"
"My lady. I can't take it."
"Why on earth not? It's an Imperial Master who made it, it's the best quality possible-"
Janos fumbles for an excuse that will not offend her, as much as he longs to blurt out Because I don't want it. "The cost must have been astronomical even without gemstones. I cannot accept a gift like this." He moves to hand it back to her.
Lady Donima laughs, throwing back her head so the silver thread in her hair catches the light. She has still not released his arm. "You dear, foolish man, are you worried about my spending? I still have plenty, don't you fret. I'm sure I'll be back to spend some of it at your shop soon." Abruptly she grows serious again. "Especially now that I'll know you're safe. I'll be displeased if you don't take it. I had it made especially for you, and the next time I come I want to see it on that wall with your tools and all the ugly weapons." She presses the box back toward him.
Janos hesitates. She doesn't sound like she means it as a threat, but he knows the Imperials. If he does displease her, she can very easily turn it into one. His status as Imperial Master will count for nothing against the word of an Imperial Lady.
Lady Donima draws closer to him, looking up through her eyelashes in a way that seems both pitifully exaggerated and somehow misguidedly sincere. "Please take it, Janni. Just for my peace of mind."
Janos sighs. Reluctantly, he takes the Imperial woman's gift. It rests heavy in his hand.
"I'll not be worried about you now," she declares, beaming. "I'm sure I'll be back very soon, but for now I have that party to get to. I must drag you along to one someday. You would be a sensation with my friends." She skims her fingertips along his chest, brushing the top of his leather smith's apron, looking coyly at him as she does so.
Janos helps Lady Donima back into the saddle of her horse. She's all smiles now, her worries- real or pretended- banished. She waves gaily back at him as she rides away, her stoic guards trailing her. Janos lifts a hand in a brief return to her wave. It's all he can manage.
He stands in the street for several minutes after she disappears, trying to get his thoughts together.
"I saw her ride away." Danil's soft voice somewhere behind him. "Is she-"
Janos turns to go back into the smithy, and the words die in Danil's mouth. Janos sees his eyes widen, his thin chest suddenly rising and falling faster, taking a step back from Janos in a way that looks more instinctual than conscious. His eyes flick once to Lady Donima's gift, then back up to Janos' face.
Janos is finished. The entire encounter has drained the energy from him, the tension suddenly too heavy for him to handle. I'll deal with it later, he says to himself, and to the boy he only says "Well?"
Danil flinches at the sound of his voice, his tongue darting out to lick his lips like they've gone dry. Wordlessly he turns back to finish whatever work he was doing before Lady Donima's unannounced visit.
Janos can feel the boy's eyes on him. He steadily ignores it, moving to the back wall where he keeps the weapons secretly forged for the rebellion. There's always a spare nail back here, and he drops Lady Donima's gift onto one.
Among the collection of knives and swords, the sturdy, finely-crafted leather whip looks somehow out of place.
I drew art with my characters from all kinds of life moments. Please don't judge the first. Cooking an omelet while the two of them watch something; measuring Olya's strength by lifting Egor; evaluating Timur's programming skills; tormenting Strade at the bar; babysitting the kids at work.
Gay people at brunch! They meet up every Sunday for brunch & mimosas but Eksel (right) is Muslim so he gets orange juice instead and half the time Danil (left) just gets ice water and mooches off Hamid's (center) food
