Knight in Amour

The feast of meat

18/02/2008 20:3o The Men's Stables, Willowcombe Manor

As Warren lies paralysed in the darkness he becomes aware of Emrys's voice in his mind again. It's almost lyrical in its rhythms and metre. Some bastardisation of Latin and welsh that he can not possibly understand. Yet it soothes him like a cooling balm. He realises he is relaxing, and the tones are taking the edge of the pain and discomfort. It leaves him free to think.

The woman that tortured 'Stu' was familiar. A face he has seen before this weekend. Placing it might be crucial to getting out of here. He runs his mind through all his experiences since joining the Asylum. He can not place the woman but from somewhere Emrys voice gives him a name. Lavinia Boon. It confuses him. He does not recognise the name, if he had encountered to woman on one of his missions he would have heard it in the briefing. 'The fourth element of Rumsfelt, the unknown knowns' Emrys voice again. This is a conversation he recalls, one that involved himself Emrys and Iain. The things we don't know we know. But how can he know something but not know it. A dark thought surfaces in his mind. Conversations with Captain Hicks about their experiences in Africa and how the soldiers that came out of that mess with them forgot the details of the creatures they encountered. He knows the Asylum can remove memories. He was not aware they had done so to him. Yet he can't see any other explanation for the unknown known of Lavina Boon.

War is roused from his stupor by the sound of foot steps on the flag stones. He raises himself slowly unsure if the paralysis has completely gone and loathed to risk his writh to any limb until he is sure. He looks over towards 'Stu' and the man is indeed unconscious as 'Mistress Boon' predicted. 'Stu' is collapsed half on his mattress and half on the cold flags of the stall. There are streaks of red where his blood has already soaked into the fabric. Dark brown stains on the mattress suggest this is far from the first beating the man has endured.
The foot steps that roused him came from Fourth and the young man is already working on 'Stu's wounds, expertly cleaning them up and dressing them. War lifts himself up, wiping the grime from the drain off his body with his hand.
"How is he?" He asks.
Fourth looks up. "He'll be ok." He looks down the row of stalls, almost as if he is afraid some one is listening in. Only when he is sure they are alone does he risk. "Can you help me get him on the Mattress?"
War nods and moves over, checking the man over as they move him into a comfortable position. War's fingers explore the mans skin and the old wounds they are extensive. "How long has she been doing this to him?"
"Longer than I've known him." Fourth responds. "But I've not been around that long."
"She talked about people being replaced."
Fourth nods. "Serving them becomes everything." He looks up at war, his eyes filled with deep sorrow. "You must know that from last night."
"I don't remember much about last night." War admits.
"The ultimate sanction they have is to cut you off. Make it so you will never see them again."
"I can't say that sounds so bad." War replies.
Fourth grimaces. "I have seen it." his voice is barely above a witness. "My father was my mistresses second. When his body could no longer serve her she cut him off and claimed me instead. It destroyed him. He could not eat or drink. We tried our best to keep him alive but..." Fourth shudders "He was just a skeleton in the end. Then one morning we realised he was no longer breathing." Fourth shrugs the. Falls silent, focusing on his task.
War looks round. "Where is every one else?"
"They've been summoned to the main house to assist with the feast." Fourth packs up the first aid kit. "We need to join them."
"Will he be ok?" War asks looking down at the unconscious man.
"Wether he is or isn't is not our problem." Fourth says. "Those are the commands. If we disobey we will end up like him, or worse."

They head across the yard to the main house. The windows are full of light, but all it does is emphasis the darkness of the rest of the buildings and sky. As they enter the stone parlour they can hear the men in the kitchen busy with the preparations. Opening the door heralds a blast of heat as if entering an oven. Arranged on every surface is piles of meat being prepared. On the centre table is a whole pig, which has been roasted and it's mouth stuffed by a roast partridge.
War stares at the creature as its eyeless face looks back at him. "Isn't it traditional to have an Apple?" he asks nodding to the pig.
One of the men turns and smears at him. "Yesterday was the feast of fruit. Today the mistresses eat meat."
"What do we eat?" War asks feeling hungry now his nose is being tantalised by the fragrant pork.
The man laughs. "Their shit if we are lucky." He points to a tray of cold cuts of beef. "Fourth, you and first of Morgan had better make yourselves busy. Take that through the the banquet." He glares at War and he picks up the tray. "And behave yourself. I'm not having my hard work ruined because they'd rather punish you again than enjoy my food."
War half nods in agreement and the follows Fourth out of the kitchen.

The noise of the preparations is almost instantly drowned out by the noise coming from the party. As they make their way down the corridor, three men hurry towards them, their trays empty. "Be quick with that, they keep yelling for more." One instructs.
As they arrive at the door to the dining hall it is opened by a young girl she looks at Warren, her eyes running up and down him with an appreciative glance that makes him feel uncomfortable coming from one so young. But before any words can be exchanged he is ushered through into the room.
The women's party is in full flow. He can smell the alcohol in the air as well as the meat. The food is being placed on a low table in the centre of the room. The women lie around it on couches, dressed in white robes that give the whole place the air of some roman banquet. The men in here are all wearing the same fawning expressions he saw on 'Stu's face when Boon addresses him, and as they bring in the meat he can see the same stupid beautific smile rising up in fourth face.
As Warren stands there, confused as to where to place his tray, there is a cry "Ah at last the beef." It heralds a round of laughter and he can feel all their eyes turn on him. There is a whisper in the back of his mind, Emrys's song again, he frowns for a second as a sensation like a ripple runs over the surface of his scalp.
The another voice speaks, it freezes him in place because he recognise it all too well. Lavina Boon's says "Kirsty, tame your beast."

There is a movement on one of the sofa's at the far end of the table. The familiar red hair rising up for behind a collection of amphora. Her green eyes seems so large and obvious across the room he can look at nothing else. He is vaguely aware of the tray being removed from his grasp before he can drop it.
His mistress smiles and his heart soars in pleasure at her recognition. Suddenly the tale Fourth related makes perfect sense. Having known this joy the prospect on never knowing it again would make life unbearable. Better to end it and the pain of the nothing that would, follow.
Then the goddess he worships dains to speak to him. "Come here boy."
War almost falls over the low benches in his eagerness to get to her side. He falls to his knees before her and stares up in slavish adoration. Emrys voice whispers a warning "Not too far." but what does some old dead man know about the joy he is feeling.

His mistress touches him. He is gift with the pleasure of her caress. The sensations almost orgasmic as she places one finger under his chin and pushes his head back. He feels her finger nail in his throat and he closes his eyes, offering himself as sacrifice if that is what she desires. He knows his life is hers to do with as she wishes and always will be.
The goddess Kirsty laughs. "Oh yes Nou. I see what you mean now, they are so... So..."
His chest swells with pride at her attention.
"Pathetic." Kirsty spits. She pushes him back sending him sprawling. He looks up at her confused but she just sneers at him. "Get out of my sight boy. Make yourself useful in the kitchens, a scullery sop that is all you are good for. When the feast is over I will decide your fate."
He scurries for the door, his ears and cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment. He is all to aware of the hearing tones of the women as he leaves and scuttles back to his appointed place at the kitchen sink.