******
Abensur knew it would be more prudent just to leave, as several others had done. It had been two weeks, and the new leaders were making their presence felt. If they’d been rash enough to put a total ban on Enclosure 1 services, they would have been ousted, he was sure. Even limiting clients to two a night was contributing to unrest. Yet, given a chance, he thought that Zhor could be as strong and respected a leader as Grandmother Riza had been. He liked it that his medj were no longer in danger. But what when they found out about Enclosure 3? He’d be killed probably, at least whipped. And he shuddered. He’d nearly died after a whipping once. He tried never to think of Enclosure 3 whenever he was near Madam Zhor.
The reason he stayed was Brigitta, now cuddled against his chest. The lovemaking was finished, but his hand gently stroked the swell of her hip. For a treacherous moment, he wished she was not medj. He could have married her if she was freia, but she was only a dirt-girl.
Brigitta put up a hand and caressed his cheek. Very softly, she said, “I get homesick sometimes.”
Abensur prepared to be brisk. She would never go home and should have accepted it by now. But she went on. “At Easter, we always have Easter eggs. It would give me such pleasure if we could all have Easter eggs.”
“Easter eggs?”
“Chocolate eggs, wrapped in bright paper.” And in a firm tone, “It’s a religious obligation. All Christians have to eat chocolate on Easter Friday, best if it’s in the form of Easter eggs.” Brigitta knew perfectly well it was supposed to be Sunday, not Friday, but Abensur didn’t know.
On Easter Friday, breakfast was brought in as usual, and the men of Enclosure 3 stared in disbelief as Abensur led in two servants carrying large baskets of Easter eggs.
Among the prisoners of Enclosure 3 were two who were being inflicted with the Confusion Spell every day. At first, it was just to show the students what happened when it was put on repeatedly, but now it was being continued as an experiment. Suma and Zola thought it would be a humane method of keeping Zhor and Najia under control, happy while they had the desperately needed babies - but only if they didn’t organize something themselves. At first, the effect had only lasted a half hour before wearing off, but after the first few days, it took longer to wear off. Charlie and Jimmy were no longer capable of clear thought. Jimmy had been a soldier not very long ago, but he’d remembered his last term of duty as so boring that he’d left the army. He was not unhappy, and smiled like a child when Hammond handed him an Easter egg from the basket, though Charlie just looked at his and then dropped it in the pool.
Carol laughed to Helene when the Easter eggs were brought in to them. “It’s what you get when a child has an influence with the boss!”
Helene smiled, “I always had a sweet tooth. I’m not complaining.”
Zhor and Najia didn’t complain, either. Clarence did, though only to the other prisoners. He didn’t like chocolate, but when Najia went to take one without him trying some first, Zhor told her sternly that they couldn’t relax for a moment. “If you find yourself waking up in your own bed, Clarence, and not knowing how you got there, don’t envy us. We’re lost.”
Najia and Zhor treated Clarence as a human being, called him Clarence rather than No. 15, and didn’t turn away from him as a ‘dirt-person.’ He thought they were wonderful. He thought Zhor could do anything. But Zhor and Najia were very aware that their reign was shaky, and they were living on their nerves.
The ones in Enclosure 1 were treated with care and consideration by their clients, who didn’t want to be dismissed by the new leaders for ‘gratuitous cruelty’ as Madam Zhor had called it. Inge and Evita were still having a holiday, and were looking happier than anyone had seen them. The novelty of being able to mingle was a pleasure to some, yet few of those in Enclosure 2 seemed interested in visiting Enclosure 1. Valencio felt almost ill just being there. Some of the older women were frightened of the changes, and tended to avert their eyes when the younger women explored the larger enclosure.
Brigitta stayed with Abensur, giving and receiving pleasure every night, and making everyone else feel safer. While Abensur told her that he loved her, he was not likely to dispose of the slaves, even if Zhor and Najia did lose power.
The weeks went by with little further change. Clarence reported that Zhor was beginning to look very thin. She was not the only one. Many of the prisoners were restless, clinging to the thought that there could be freedom, none of them quite believing it. Valencio was perfectly calm again, fatalistic, and a comfort for many of the women. Emma clung to him, Thierry as well. Carol consulted him, unhappy that he said the girls simply didn’t know how to free them, that they were increasingly uncomfortable when talking with them. At least, he said that he could gain no hint from the guards that they might be deposed.
And then Inge saw that she was to have Sayyid that night, and when she checked Evita’s list, there was Junichiro. It appeared their holiday was at an end. Several of the other women had three listed for the night instead of two. Things were going back to the way they’d been for so many years.
Najia was looking very sad that day, but Zhor told her firmly, “We had to. We couldn’t do anything else.”
“They’re going to overthrow us soon, I think.”
“We should sterilize each other. Then there would be no point in taking us prisoner.”
“I told you. I want a baby.”
“Well, they wouldn’t let us walk out, and I’ve tried and tried to bring down the anti-Mekk spells over the Compound and I can’t. I’d like to know who did the magic.”
“Bellamy says that old spells are often stronger.”
“I should never have given them hope. Those young girls. I’m sorry, Najia. I should never have brought us back.”
“No, you were right. Better to do it this way than be kidnapped, and they would have succeeded eventually. Just… Do you really think it would be better to sterilize each other?”
“You would have loved my baby. He may have been a little slow, but he was always happy and he loved to cuddle. I don’t even know where he’s buried. I’d love to have another, one not by an uncle, one who would be healthy. Maybe we could wait a little longer.”
“Do you think we should try and call him? In our minds, I mean? I don’t think we could get a letter out.”
If we really have to, maybe… Not yet.”