#43 - Shake On It!

The very next day Ahrimaz stared through the bars at Teel.  “You aren’t going to go away until you get your interview, aren’t you?” he snarled.

“Ser, I just want to let people know the truth.  People need to know what is going on in their government, in their House of the Hand.  People deserve to know what is going on!”

At least he showed his difference from the James in the Empire.  He wore the same outfit.  The spymaster in the Empire wouldn’t be caught dead in the same coat two days running.  “In that, at least, you are like the man I know in the Empire.  Truth is his God.”

“Truly?  Might I quote you on that?”

Ahrimaz sighed and waved towards himself.  “Come in, sit down, talk to me.  I will, however, not trust you.  In my world the man who wears your face and your voice is the Aporrheitos,  the Head of the Truth-tellers school, my best friend and spymaster.”

James didn’t even check or hesitate at all as he pulled the cell door open and settled on the chair by the bed, notebook already out, even as his cane settled against his knee.  You know. Ahrimaz thought.  That is a very heavy cane for something supposedly so light. “How heavy a sword do you have in there?” He leaned back against the wall, eased the coverlet out from under his thigh in case he should have to use it as a shield.

Teel’s face fell.  I’d know in a heartbeat that this man isn’t my spymaster.  His face is wide open and shows everything.  “You could tell?  Drown it, I’ve been practicing!”  He offered the cane to Ahrimaz without a second thought.

“No, actually, my spymaster has a small sword in his cane and has saved my life with it, more than once.”  He twisted and the cane popped open to reveal the court sword inside. He drew it with a hiss and then sheathed it with a smooth motion, shutting it in place with a click.  “Very nice.”

“Spymaster?” James prompted, taking his cane back, pencil and notebook poised.

“Yes. Well.  The Aporrheitos school draws from the whole Empire and trains truth-tellers specifically.  I haven’t seen a single one here.”

“They are like an order then?”

“Very much.  I understand that most people in this world have a trace of it.  The School concentrates it.”

“How interesting.  Did you set up this school?”

“No, it was my great grandfather.  He decided that no one should be able to discern the sexes of the Truth Tellers.  They wear red robes from head to toe, red gloves, and shave all facial hair, including eyebrows, though our physicians dissuaded us from having them pull their eyelashes.”

“Huh.  It sounds… extreme.”

“Oh it is, but it is a system where no one will question your class or your sex.  You are there to tell the truth and a Truth Teller has personal servants, their own horses, not their own houses since they stay in the Temples while on duty.”

“So, promotion by ability and merit then.”  James scribbled.  Ahrimaz found himself looking at him, struggling to see the differences.  The most obvious was an unbroken nose.  A dueling scar through an eyebrow was also missing.  He looked up, catching him looking.  “How are you managing this ‘different world’ business?”

Ahrimaz caught his breath.  There was the same sharpness that he knew.  “Lousily,” he said softly.  “I’m actually considering trying to kill myself just out of sheer misery, but the Kenaçyen family don’t want me to do that.  They’re worried that any possibility of getting their own man back would be harmed.”  He grinned slightly.  “I’ve also thought that might be a way of getting my own back.  A bit of revenge for all this healing they’ve thrust upon me.”

“I… see.” James leaned back.  “Your healing was forced, then?  Why don’t you just kill yourself then?”

“I… don’t know.  I feel as though I somehow have this will to live nailed to my breastbone in place of my heart.”

“You’ve just proved that you’re not a monster.”

Ahrimaz raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.  The two dogs came trit-trotting in, sniffed around James and then Teh sat down between the chair and the bed and Sure jumped up to pin Ahrimaz’s legs down.

“Yes.  You see a monster would have found out what the family was afraid of and then cut his own throat in front of them, laughing.” James put the notebook down and leaned forward, elbows on knees, one dangling hand petting the protective Teh.  “You realize as well that you need someone to talk to who doesn’t have a stake in your healing?”

“Yes, but I hadn’t thought there would be anyone in this world who didn’t have a stake in keeping me healthy in the hopes of getting their Beloved back.”  Ahrimaz shifted the dog up to his lap and she sprawled, belly up, legs waving and he scrubbed her belly absently with both hands.  “And if you think that you can offer yourself up to be that unbiased ear, then you’re wrong.  If you have as much strength to read people emotionally as my friend, they you must know that.  You are committed to telling people the truth and you’d be encouraging me out of any self-delusions I have both for that reason and the fact that you’d be more comfortable if I were not lying to myself.  My friend in the other world actually breaks out in rashes in the presence of lies. He's terribly uncomfortable in my court because it's a sea of lies that he's swimming in, constantly.”

“You can see that I am not scratching.  You’re telling me the truth as best you know it.  And with me there’s not any kind of sexual tension, or political tension or even tension of expectation.”

“And you just want to write things about me.  Tell people about me.”

“I could come and talk to you every day, I think, without running out of interesting stories.  I’m actually thinking of beginning a column just to let people know about you and the other world.”

Ahrimaz snorted and fell over sideways into his pillows.  “So I get hours of talk from Limyé, hours of talk from the other fellow’s parents and lovers, several hours of training from Rutaçyen, an hour of philosophy with Arnziel and you think I’ll have time left for you, much less time to scratch?”

“We could make it part of your training… or while you go out to walk or run.  I’d keep up with you.”

“Would you now?”  Ahrimaz’s grin emerged from the pillows, covered by tousled hair. He raked it out of his face.  “And if you can’t keep up, you’ll go away?”

“It’s a bet!” James thrust his hand out.  “Shake on it!”