The False Martyr (67 page)

Dasen wondered if he
should use the key on the desk to lock it. He turned to the tray
instead, lifting the lids off the china dishes – it appeared that
they had, at least, found their way to an upscale inn. Stomach
rumbling, he inspected two plates of eggs with smoked fish and
another of toasted wheat bread. A small pitcher of milk and a pot
of jam accompanied the feast.

Behind him, Teth rose and
walked to the table’s other side. She looked tired, sad,
apprehensive. Her hair was standing in clumps and her face was
creased from her pillow, but Dasen felt his heart skip at the sight
of her in the long nightshirt – another night of disappointment
seemed only to have heightened his desire.

“
Ah . . . looks like a
feast,” he started. He tried to keep his voice bright and positive,
tried to forget how they had left things the night before, tried to
look away from his wife, to find something else to hold his
attention. But his eyes had a mind of their own. They returned,
darting from her pale-blue eyes, to her lips, to the outline of her
breasts, to her bare feet.

“
I’m sorry, Dasen,” she
blurted. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. Her lower lip
crept between her teeth and her arms crossed her chest. Her eyes
turned to the floor then the window, finally to him, then down
again. “I’m sorry. You do not deserve . . . . I mean, you haven’t
done anything. You’ve been so patient and kind, and . . . .” Teth
took another deep breath. She tried to meet his eyes but seemed
unable to keep them. “. . . and well, I’m sorry. I just . . . I’m
sorry.” She pressed her arms around herself as if freezing and
chewed her lips so that Dasen expected to see blood.

“
I . . . I know you’ve
been sad,” he managed after the silence had stretched into a
fidgeting infinity. “And I . . . I understand. I mean . . . I . . .
after everything we’ve been through . . . I mean, I can understand
how that would . . . . “

“
That’s not it,” Teth
interrupted without looking at him. “I mean that’s part of it, but
. . . .”

The silence sat until her
eyes found the courage to rise. The look there made Dasen’s stomach
churn.
What happened?
he wanted to scream at her. The imagining had to be worse
than knowing, at least that was what he told himself.

“
Did they . . .” he began
when she did not offer anything further. “I mean did the men in
that commune . . . did they . . . ?” Dasen could not seem to force
himself to say it. He stumbled not even knowing how to express the
horrible thoughts that were consuming him.

“
Oh,” Teth finally seemed
to follow his thoughts. “Is that what you’ve been thinking?” She
paused seemed to think about that and let it reorder her thoughts.
“I . . . I’m sorry. I guess I can see how you’d . . . . but no. The
Weavers didn’t touch me. They didn’t want anything to do with me
really. Mostly they just ignored me, but. . . .” Again her lip
crept between her teeth, her arms went back around her chest, hands
kneading her arms.

“
I found out some things .
. . .” she said decisively, then lost it just as fast. She chewed
her lip, leaving Dasen hanging like a convict waiting for the word
that will bring the axe down. “I can’t tell you,” she finally
seemed to decide. Dasen opened his mouth, but Teth stopped him with
a raised hand. “I just can’t, okay. I can’t.” She panted as if that
burst had left her exhausted.

“
But it is just me. I
promise. It has nothing to do with you. You have been so kind and
patient. I haven’t deserved any of it, and it makes me feel so much
worse about . . . all this.” She paused, wiped away a tear, and
took a long breath. Dasen tried to interject, to reassure her, but
she held up a hand. “Wait. You need to know. It’s not you. It is
just something that . . . well, it is something that made me see
the world in a different way, and I didn’t much like the way the
world looked after that, and I couldn’t get it out of my head, and
it made me so tired, that I didn’t want do anything. Do you
understand?”

Dasen nodded. “I . . . I
think so. But you’re better now? You see that the world isn’t so
bad? I mean at least we have each other. We have food and a place
to sleep. The Order is obviously protecting us. How bad can things
be?”

Teth nearly choked. She
coughed then tried to match his smile, but her face collapsed like
glass struck by a rock. She fought a sob, brought her hands to her
eyes, and sighed. “I’m sorry, Dasen. You’re right, but I need some
time. I see a way through it now. Yesterday, I realized that I had
an alternative, but it will take some time, and I need some space
to get there. Can you understand? Can you give me that?”

“
Of . . . of course,” he
stammered, wanting to scream the opposite.
By the Order, I want her
, he
thought. Even wasted and miserable, he could only imagine kissing
her, grabbing her, taking her to the bed. He forced the thoughts
away, but the need did not go. He felt it like an ache.
H
ow much patience can one man
have
? He could not see her without wanting
to touch her, even in small ways, without wanting to hold her hand,
caress her neck, run his fingers through her hair. And then to
sleep in the same bed, to share the same chambers, to be locked in
this room day after day. . . . “I . . . I . . . whatever you need .
. . I,” he could not make himself say that he understood, that he
agreed.

To his surprise, her arms
wrapped around him. His eyes had been so firmly diverted that he
did not even see her approach, and she nearly squeezed the air from
him. “I’m sorry,” she said into his chest. “I’m so sorry. I hope
you will forgive me. I love you, but it’s the only way.”

Dasen put his arms around
her, but she was as stiff as a board, lacking even the slightest
intimacy. She had meant exactly what she said. She was separating
herself from him. Already she was saying goodbye.

#

The dress was far too big
for Teth, and the pants were far too small for Dasen. They looked
at each other, and Teth started to laugh. It was the first time she
had laughed in weeks, and Dasen just watched her in shock, fighting
to keep a smile from his face. “No!” he said. “This is a
joke.”

“
Where did they even find
this dress?” Teth asked between pants. “Is there a woman in the
world who is this tall?” She held out the layers of pale pink silk,
white lace, and rose-colored embroidery and carried it to Dasen.
“By the Order, it’s perfect!”

Dasen snatched it from
her. “It’s a joke. Our friends here must have a sense of humor,
because there is no chance that I could pass as a woman. It’s the
most ridiculous idea ever. They’re going to walk through that door
in a few minutes laughing their heads off. They’re probably calling
the soldiers now so that I can be arrested wearing a dress. Imagine
. . . .”

“
I don’t care if they do.
Seeing you in that dress will be worth it a hundred times. But I
really hope it’s not a joke. You can see how it feels to be one of
us. How did you put it, ‘needing a man’s guidance to see the
Order’? Well I’m happy to help you, my poor, fragile
flower.”

“
You’re really enjoying
this, aren’t you?” Dasen could barely keep the smile off his
face.

“
I am going to enjoy it
even more when you put it on.”

Dasen could not resist.
After the past few weeks, he was so happy to see Teth smile that he
didn’t care what humiliation was involved. He would dress up as the
Queen of Liandria to see her smile, much less laugh. He pulled the
heavy dress on and let Teth fasten the tiny clasps that ran up the
back. It was a fine dress, meant for a wealthy woman. The fabric
was soft, the workmanship excellent, and the fit remarkably
close.
Where could Mark have possibly
found this thing?
Dasen was tall for a
man, he would be a giant as a woman. Though nowhere near strapping,
his shoulders were too broad, his hips too narrow, his hands too
hairy, and by the end of the day his stubble would begin to show.
It had to be a joke. There was no chance that anyone would see him
as anything more than what he was, a man in a dress.

Teth came around him when
the last clasp was done, bringing the dress all the way to his neck
where the band rose over his Adam’s apple. “She’s gorgeous. Such a
beauty has seldom been seen. We’ll have to find a good husband for
that one. She’ll produce such fine tall boys.” Dasen sneered. “Not
much in the way of endowment, though.” Teth reached up and held the
sagging bodice. “The babes might starve before they get a drop from
those.”

A knock at the door
interrupted Teth’s teasing. She jumped. She was still wearing her
nightshirt, hair standing in a sleep-matted nest. “A moment,” Dasen
called as Teth grabbed the pants and pulled them on. They were
expensive gray lamb’s wool slacks that were too big for her
emaciated form. She turned to take off the nightshirt, so that
Dasen saw only the expanse of her slim back, vertebrae and ribs
sticking out like a starving dog. She pulled a white cotton shirt
over her head and buttoned it quickly. Another knock sounded at the
door.

“
It’s Mark,” the innkeeper
called. “Open the door.”

Dasen looked to Teth. She
had only managed half the buttons, but she nodded. On the other
side of the door were the innkeeper and a strange woman. She was
square and plump, in her middle years, possibly older than her
husband though it was difficult to tell beneath the paste and
powder she had applied. Her lips were bright red, her eyes outlined
in coal, her eyebrows plucked to lines, and cheeks rouged to look
like sagging apples. Her dress was fine and wildly patterned to
keep with her radical appearance – the wearing of cosmetics was a
new, and marginally accepted, trend for the staid Kingdoms. The
dress covered her shoulders but plunged at the neckline to show the
top of her powdered breasts. Those framed a golden pendant that
matched her husbands – a woman’s head with her hair flowing down
over half of it to form a river. Her hefty arms were likewise bare.
Her fingers were thick but largely hidden by rings that – if for no
other reason than their size – had to be sparkling cut glass. And
rising above it all was a great tower of brown hair held in place
by shimmering clips and surrounded by carefully constructed rings
to make it look like an enchanted mountain rising from a tangled
forest. In all, she was one of the most unusual looking women Dasen
had ever seen, but he now understood what Mark had said about her
experience with disguises. Dasen could not even imagine what she
would look like without all that careful construction.

“
This is my wife, Margot,”
Mark said. “You may call her, Mrs. Tappers. As you should call me
Mr. Tappers around the inn. She is here to help with your
transformations. As you can see she is quite the expert with
cosmetics. She makes her own and has a successful business helping
the local ladies with their application.”

Mrs. Tappers swept into
the room like an invading army. She looked at Dasen then Teth then
back at her husband. “I guess I should have known from the
alternations to the dress, but he’s far too tall.” She walked
around Dasen, inspecting him. “Stand up straight,” she scolded and
ran a knuckle along his spine. Dasen shot up as the woman rounded
to the front and began picking at the bodice, sleeves, and hips of
the dress. “Are you sure this is the best plan?” she asked her
husband. “His features are fine enough, but I can’t do anything
about his height. The shoulders are too broad, the hips too narrow.
Bodices are easy, maybe even the hips, but the shoulders . . . .”
She shook her head, making the mountain of hair sway before Dasen’s
eyes.

“
I have that under
control, my dear.” Mr. Tappers approached, put his hands on her
shoulders and kissed her cheek. She looked at him with obvious
affection. “You worry about his face, my love. I’ll handle the
rest.” His glance shifted to Teth. “And her?”

Mrs. Tappers seemed to see
Teth then for the first time. She frowned then smiled. “That’s the
girl? I already thought she was a boy. There’ll be some work to do
if he’s to be noble born, but I think I’d have a harder time
convincing people she’s a girl.” Teth looked at herself without
seeming to know whether to take that as a compliment or
insult.

Mr. Tappers moved fully to
Teth, inspected her, then ran his fingers through her hair, holding
it up. Teth ducked beneath the touch, backed away, and put up a
guard as if preparing to fight. “The hair,” Mr. Tappers said. “Can
you fix that or do we need an expert?”

“
I’ll think of something,”
she said. “The bigger concern, she’s skin and bones and wary as a
beaten dog. Even a thin boy in his growth doesn’t get that skinny.”
She looked back toward Dasen with distaste then held her hands out
to Teth. “You’re safe now, my dear. Whatever’s happened, you’re
safe here. And if it’s that boy,” she cast an odious look at Dasen,
“we’ll see to him as well.”

Dasen sputtered –
how could they think he had abused Teth?
– but Mr. Tappers saved him. He closed on his
wife and whispered in her ear. Their eyes stayed on Teth, which
only served to transform her shock into a scowl.

“
I see,” Mrs. Tappers
mumbled when her husband pulled away. She looked to Dasen with
sympathy. “You’re both safe here. These are hard times, but here,
you are our family, and we will not let anything happen to you.
You’ll soon realize that a good disguise is better than plate
armor. It protects you even from insults and accusations. It allows
you to be reborn, to become someone new. And it is that person who
can absorb all the world’s abuse while you stay safely behind.” She
sighed deeply after that, caught up in her own words.