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Bruno and the carriage driver carried Marcus up limp between them, Apollonia snapping orders as she followed them up. Kal hurried to get out of her way, shaken at the sight of Marcus pale with blood in his hair as they laid him out on the bed while the doctor was fetched.
The smell of blood filled the room as Bruno and Neeltie pressed clean cloths to the awful gash on the back of Marcus' head. Kal ran and fetched salt and more cloths when Bruno snapped at him to clean the expensive carpet, Kal's hands shaking as he dabbed salt into the dark spots on the carpet. He hadn't smelled so much blood since the boy working in the room next to him got his nose and a cheekbone broken by a client, and Kal's stomach flipped like the pimp was going to come cursing up the stairs any moment. He didn't dare look at Marcus, or anything else past his own shaking hands.
The doctor came when Kal was still stupidly rubbing salt into the carpet. He scrambled out of the way when she came in, pressing himself against the wall. With just the two of them, Marcus' rooms always seemed obscenely large, but with Neeltie, Bruno, Apollonia, and now the doctor with the smell of blood, Kal could hardly breathe.
Bruno came to stand next to him as the doctor examined Marcus. Bruno gave Kal and the ruined carpet a long look, and Kal twisted the rag in his shaking hands, braced for Bruno to say something awful. "He's fine, he just slipped coming off the carriage," Bruno muttered under his breath finally.
Marcus didn't look fine. Kal could hardly breathe; Marcus looked like one of the boys who'd been beaten so badly he'd never worked again. He looked groggy and pale and he threw up when the doctor made him sit up to look in his eyes.
"Did he lose consciousness?" the doctor asked Apollonia.
"No," Marcus croaked, leaning back against the headboard with his eyes closed. "My head hurts." Apollonia frowned at him.
"Well," the doctor said, sitting back. "That's good you're cranky. Your pupils look fine, but send for me if he's hard to wake up," the doctor said, and Kal realized with a jolt that she was talking to him . She waved him over and patted the bed next to Marcus. Kal glanced at Apollonia; he'd never sat in front of her before.
Up close, the smell of blood was overwhelming. Kal clutched the filthy rag in his hand, trying to keep his breathing even. The doctor reached past Kal to pull Marcus' eyes open again, her hands smelling of soap and clean laundry, turning Marcus' face back and forth so Kal could see the size of Marcus' pupils. "If his pupils are different sizes, or he's got fluid coming from his ears or nose, send someone for me. Or if he's especially more cranky than normal, or seems drunk," she said, releasing Marcus to pat Kal's knee.
"My head hurts," Marcus complained again, groping for Kal's hand.
"It'll be like that for a few days," the doctor said brightly. "Ignore his whining unless it gets much, much worse," she said to Kal. Then she patted his hand and left.
"Doesn't the kitchen have anything else?" Marcus demanded, propped up in his pillows. With his head bandaged and the cup of soup in his hands, he looked especially petulant.
"No, master, I'm sorry, master," Kal said, trying not to let his hands shake as he cleared away the other two suppers Marcus didn't want. Really, the kitchen had plenty else, but the cook would only give him plain toast and rice and broth for Marcus because Apollonia didn't want the concussion to upset Marcus' stomach again, but she wasn't the one who had to tell Marcus that.
"This tastes like dishwater," Marcus complained, putting the cup of broth aside. "Bring that toast back here," he snapped at Kal.
"Yes, master, I'm sorry, master," Kal said, ducking his head as he brought the tray back to the bed.
"Stop that, you know I don't like it when you grovel," Marcus snapped, batting Kal's hands away from the tray. Kal jerked back. He bit his tongue and kept his head down, not daring to let Marcus see his face. Kal wondered if the doctor would think this was more cranky than usual. He hadn't yet had a supper himself, running up and down the stairs all afternoon for the salt, ice for Marcus, tea, the first supper, and the second and third suppers, Kal's hands still shaking from the lingering smell of blood.
"Don't sulk, just go get a book and read to me," Marcus said, picking at his toast. Kal set his jaw and went to fetch the book of poetry Marcus had been reading lately.
"Not that," Marcus snapped when Kal had barely settled on the bed beside him, the book not even open yet. "Go get something simpler. That book Lusitia left," he said, waving a hand at the book his niece had left.
Kal went and fetched it, face hot. A Child's First Garden of Verse . Which Lusitia had read out loud to Marcus very prettily cover to cover the day before, but she was seven. Kal spent the rest of the evening stumbling over his words with Marcus snapping every time he mispronounced something, until Marcus finally, finally shut up and went to sleep.
In the morning, the smell of blood was thick and overwhelming on the sheets even though really, it was only a small spot. Kal came awake too fast at the smell of it, Marcus still heavily asleep. Kal never, ever woke Marcus, no matter how many years it had been, but the doctor had said to call if he was hard to wake and the smell of blood made Kal's hands shake. He pushed himself up sitting and tried to shake Marcus; tentatively, at first, and then harder. Marcus didn't even frown in his sleep, dead to the world.
Kal never thought he'd wake up next to a client who didn't wake up. Least of all Marcus.
"Bruno," Kal called urgently, voice strained as he shook Marcus again, checking to be sure he was even breathing.
Bruno scoffed when he came in. "Sit up," Bruno snapped at Marcus, shoving Kal out of the way to haul Marcus up sitting. Kal scrambled out of bed to pull on a tunic. Anything to get away from the smell of blood on the sheets. Marcus woke groggily, pushing Bruno's hands off him. "You need your bandaging changed," Bruno said.
"I'm fine, it doesn't need changing," Marcus said, listing sulkily against the headboard as Bruno went to fetch the clean bandaging Neeltie had left. Kal, on the other side of the room, tried not to look as Bruno unwound the bloody bandaging around Marcus' head.
"The doctor said to change it if it bled through," Bruno snapped. "You stained the pillow."
"Do it and then get out," Marcus snapped. "Kallius, go shut the damned curtains."
In the mid-morning twilight once Bruno was gone, Marcus went back to sleep without eating, cranky until Kal sat next to him on the bed and rubbed his shoulders. Kal hadn't eaten either; Bruno never brought anything up from the kitchen unless Marcus sent for it and Marcus hadn't let Kal go to get his own breakfast. And anyway, Kal wasn't sure he could manage it with his stomach so twisted up. But at least once Bruno whisked away the stained pillow and case, the metallic smell was less overwhelming. So Kal just stayed where he was and let his hands stop shaking.
Kal was still sitting there in the dark when Bruno came back with a flower arrangement. Probably from Marcus' brother-in-law; he would hate that when he woke up. Kal resigned himself to another long evening of Marcus berating him for nothing.
"What would happen to us?" Kal asked Bruno, watching Marcus breathe. "If he didn't wake up."
"He's not going to die," Bruno scoffed.
"But what would happen?" Kal asked again.
"To me, nothing," Bruno sniffed. "He didn't buy me. You're in his will."
"Where's his will?" Kal said vaguely. In the dark, with the curtains drawn and Marcus back deeply asleep with a frown and the thick bandaging, the thought of being gifted to someone else felt close and pressing. Marcus had never said anything about it to him, but Marcus never said much to him about anything.
Bruno left in a huff. Kal stayed where he was, still watching Marcus. He supposed he could ask Mayke; she knew about that kind of thing, citizen things. Kal wondered vaguely who Marcus would give him to, like pressing a new bruise that hadn't fully bloomed yet. He had no idea who Marcus would think best: one of Marcus' brothers-in-law, who Kal barely knew; one of Marcus' nephews, who Kal would always think of as children; or Julius.
Bruno came back and shoved a sheaf of papers into Kal's hands. Kal blinked at them, hard to read in the dim light. It was too dense, all legal language in an elaborate hand that Kal stumbled over trying to read, worse than he usually did. He mouthed the words as he read, trying to search for his own name.
"You're so stupid," Bruno snapped, snatching the papers back. He stabbed a finger at the page, shaking them right under Kal's nose. "You'd get your ear clipped and most of his stupid books, you spoiled slut."
"Oh," Kal said, stupid, looking back at Marcus with his ears ringing like he'd been hit. The only thing he could think about was he didn't know what he was supposed to do with all those books with no trade and no sisters and nowhere to live. Maybe Marcus meant for him to sell them; he surely didn't mean for Kal to read them.
Kal sat and watched Marcus sleep for a long time after Bruno left, feeling strangely blank. He thought, very far away from himself, that he should simply smother Marcus and make sure he never woke up. No one would really know the difference. And then Kal would finally be rid of his collar.
It was a stupid, hysterical thought; for one thing, the doctor had said Marcus would be fine and she would definitely know if someone smothered him. But the realization that he wanted Marcus to wake up more than he wanted his ear clipped sat heavily on Kal's shoulders.
She came in late that afternoon while Kal was dozing next to Marcus. She was tall and sharp and unmistakable, and she didn't even look at him. Kal scrambled back from the bed and pressed himself to the far wall, heart hammering for the second time that day.
She sat on the bed next to Marcus and smoothed his hair back from his face, her expression unreadable. "Has he been awake today?" Marcus' mother said without looking at Kal.
"Briefly, madam," Kal said, trying to keep his voice deferential and even.
"Has the doctor been?"
"Yesterday, madam."
"And?" she said, finally looking over her shoulder at him. Marcus looked exactly like her but she was sharper, whether from age or inclination Kal couldn't tell. He felt like she could see right through him to the brand on his sole and the pennies in his shoes. And that he'd thought about smothering Marcus, however briefly.
"She said he's to sleep, and lay in a dark room, and go walking on the third day, madam," Kal said, his voice only shaking at the end.
"Go fetch coffee, please," she said, turning back to Marcus again.
Kal left as quickly as he could decently manage, hands shaking as he closed the back service door down to the kitchen. With any luck, she'd dismiss him after he got her coffee. It was only as he was waiting in the kitchen for the cook to boil water that Kal realized Marcus' mother had been wearing dirty, slush-stained traveling clothes, like she'd come directly from the carriage. From what Marcus had said, court was a full day's ride away if they only stopped to change horses; she probably hadn't eaten. Kal asked the cook to put some supper on the tray.
She was still there when he carried the tray back up, sitting where she could stroke Marcus' hair as he slept. She looked neither upset nor displeased; just tired. Still, Kal's hands shook as he set the tray down on the breakfast table and poured her coffee.
She gave him a long look when he brought her coffee and saucer over; the sound of the cup rattling on the saucer betrayed his nerves as he handed it to her with his eyes down.
"Are you frightened of me, young man?" she asked as he backed away to put himself out of her way again.
Kal swallowed hard, head down and eyes on the floor where he stood with his back to the wall. "Yes, madam."
He heard her take a drink of coffee. "Marcus says you're very clever."
"Thank you, madam," Kal said, too surprised Marcus had said anything at all about him to think better of it. Marcus thought he was clever the way a dog that did tricks on two legs was clever, maybe.
"I don't care for clever helots," Marcus' mother said, making Kal's belly go cold.
"Yes, madam, of course, madam," Kal said, cursing himself. At least his hands were behind his back so she couldn't see them shake.
Kal listened to her take another sip of coffee and set the cup down, wishing she would dismiss him. "Did he ever tell you he's my favorite?" she asked after a while. From the sound of her voice, she was looking at Marcus.
"No, madam," Kal said quietly, because he wasn't sure she actually wanted an answer to that.
"I suppose he doesn't feel that way anymore," she said, stroking Marcus' hair again. "He was always so sunny as a baby. So spoiled. You weren’t a spoiled child, were you," she said.
"I wouldn’t know, madam," Kal said, trying to keep his voice even and his eyes on the floor.
Marcus' mother was silent for a moment; Kal wondered if he was going to get slapped or sold, and tried not to think about his own mother. He couldn't even remember if anyone had cared to spoil him, or what someone like Marcus’ mother would think of as spoiling. "I suppose you wouldn’t,” she said finally. “You can go. Thank you for bringing dinner," she said. Kal fled back down the stairs.
She stayed late enough with Marcus that Kal took his supper in the kitchen, a relief after all day alternating between the dark quiet while Marcus slept and his snapping every time he woke up.
“Where have you been?” Marcus complained in the dark when Kal crept back to their bed late, hoping to find Marcus asleep again. Kal tried not to sigh as he got into bed.
“Just the kitchen, I’m sorry,” Kal said to the pressing dark as Marcus pulled him close. Kal put his head on Marcus’ shoulder, tentative, but Marcus was already back asleep.
Marcus tottered out of bed on his own the next morning looking pale and unsteady. But he ate, and only snapped at Kal once to close the curtains, and answered a few of the letters on his desk before going back to close his eyes in his favorite armchair. The bandaging on his head hadn’t bled through again, so that was probably good.
Kal got him his breakfast and went to kneel at his feet, wondering if he should suggest the walk the doctor ordered, or just resign himself to another day spent sitting in a dark room. Marcus said nothing and didn’t eat, so Kal said nothing.
"Someone's been through my desk," Marcus said after a while, jolting Kal out of resigned boredom. It was question that wasn't a question, but at least it wasn't an accusation yet.
"Bruno showed me your will," Kal said quietly, looking at his hands.
"And you didn't smother me in my sleep?" Marcus said, making Kal freeze. He groped to pat Kal's cheek with one hand, eyes still closed. "That was good of you."
"I wouldn't, I swear, I'm sorry master–" Kal said, his heart racing.
"That was a joke," Marcus said, smoothing a hand over Kal's hair. Kal nodded tightly, head still down and his shoulders achingly tight. "No one would blame you after yesterday, but don't get your hopes up, I don't know that my sisters would do it if they thought you were still useful."
Kal took one shaky breath and then another, desperate for something to change the subject. The thought of something happening to Marcus and getting sold somehow hurt even more than the thought of Marcus dying being the only way to be rid of his collar. He leaned his head on Marcus’ thigh, trying to feign calm and affection. "I wouldn't know what to do with all the books anyway," Kal said.
Marcus laughed under his breath, petting Kal's hair as he leaned his head back against the chair. "You'd manage." He dug fingers in Kal's hair. "There's a little pot of money and a dower for you besides the books, if my sisters don't pinch pennies; you could rent a little garret and paint until you married."
Kal's throat hurt. There was no good way to say to Marcus that he wanted that now , without Marcus having to be run over by a carriage. There was no reason Marcus couldn't just do it without having to die first. "Too many stairs," Kal said, trying to make a joke of it even if his voice was rough.
"If you say so," Marcus said. "Someone would marry you right away, you’re too pretty for your own good. Come kiss me, my head hurts."
“The doctor said–”
“Damn the doctor,” Marcus said, giving Kal a hand to help him up and pull him into Marcus’ lap. “Distract me from this damned headache.”
“Will that make you feel better?” Kal asked. He leaned in to kiss Marcus delicately; anything was better than Marcus’ ceaseless complaining.
“Will it make me less unbearable than yesterday, you mean?” Marcus said with a smile. He pushed Kal’s tunic up and off him so he was naked in the cool, dim room.
"Will it?" Kal said, letting Marcus run hands down his back and over his ass.
Marcus tipped his head back on his chair and let Kal kiss up his throat; he still smelled like blood, but less overwhelming than the day before. That was fine. They would both be fine.
“Maybe if you suck my cock, too,” Marcus said with a little smile, opening his eyes just enough to give Kal a look like he thought he was very clever. Instead, though, he pulled Kal back up to kiss. “You’d be fine without me, though,” he said, smoothing a hand over Kal’s hair again. “Better than fine.”
“Yes, master,” Kal said obediently, and pulled Marcus back to bed.