“Aren’t you even going to try it on?” he asks. Several of the others in the room start snickering at that.
Jiron, Reilin, and Shorty return a couple hours later. When apprised of what the young man said, Jiron of course was adamantly against it. “No, no, no, NO!” he exclaims. “You can’t even be thinking about taking this course of action.”
“I haven’t committed to it as yet,” he replies. “What did you find out?”
“The place really doesn’t have much of a guard,” he explains. “The area among the outer buildings of the temple complex affords many places in which to hide.”
“How about the temple itself?” Scar asks.
“That may be a little tougher nut to crack,” Jiron says. “Several braziers sit by the temple doors which I’m sure at night are lit. There will be no way to sneak in once they have been. Anyone in the vicinity will undoubtedly see us heading to the doors.”
“Were there non-priests present on the temple grounds?” James asks. “Maybe we could disguise ourselves as a disciple or something.”
“That wouldn’t work either,” interjects Brother Willim. “Temples to Dmon-Li are not known for the attendance by the faithful. If a group this size were to approach, they would become interested in us. Not saying suspicious, at least not at first, but it would definitely be seen as something out of the ordinary.”
“So if I understand this correctly,” James says as he glances between Jiron and Brother Willim, “any frontal assault will draw attention.”
Brother Willim nods and Jiron says, “Most likely.”
“Is there a back way in?” asks Stig.
“If there was we didn’t see it,” replies Shorty. “The temple is pretty big too. It may take us some time to locate this dais thing you want to get to once we’re inside.”
“Perhaps this slave’s plan is the best course to follow right now,” suggests Reilin. When the others give him glares, he sticks to his guns and says, “At least go and see what this guy can do for us.”
“I’d want you to follow and keep an eye on me,” James tells Jiron.
“Oh, you can bet I’ll be doing that,” he says. Picking up the slave rag off the table he says, “Shouldn’t you be getting into this thing then?”
James looks in disgust at it and shakes his head. “Not until I have too.”
Another hour goes by and the young man has yet to return. When it’s but a couple hours before dusk, he again appears at James’ door. This time he’s alone, the other slave that was with him the previous two times is absent. Tucked under one arm is a package which he hands to Brother Willim upon entering.
“I found everything you requested,” he says. “Took some doing, though.
Bother Willim takes the package and nods. “I can imagine.” He then opens it up on the table and begins removing the contents.
Turning to James, he asks, “Are you planning on meeting with the one whom I spoke of?”
“Yes,” he replies. “It doesn’t look as if I have much choice.”
“Then when you’re ready I will escort you to him,” he says.
Picking up the slave cloth, James asks rather unhappily, “Are you sure this is the only way?”
“If you wish to meet with him, yes.”
Sighing, James says, “Very well.” While Brother Willim is beginning to crush some leaves in a bowl, he takes the slave cloth. “I’ll be in the next room when you’re ready.”
Brother Willim nods. “Be there when I am done.”
James then leaves the room and goes to the next one over. Once he’s inside and alone, he holds up the cloth and a shiver runs through him. Nothing for it, he tells himself and begins removing his clothes. Naked, he picks up the cloth and begins working to secure it around his loins. Not nearly as easy as he first thought, it takes him three attempts before it’s on well enough that it won’t fall off when he paces back and forth.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Yes?” he hollers through the door.
“It’s me,” he hears Miko says.
“Come in,” James tells him.
When the door opens, Miko comes in and sees him standing there in naught but the slave cloth. “Man oh man,” he says with a mischievous grin.
“What?” James asks.
“First of all,” he explains, “you have it on wrong. Here let me help you fix it.” Closing the door he moves forward and removes the slave cloth. Then he shows him the proper way to wear it. “The way you had it on, it would have fallen off in no time.” Tucking the last piece within the part circling his waist, Miko nods and stands up.
“I feel naked,” James says.
“That feeling will get worse once you’re out in public,” he says. “Trust me, I know.”
James only nods.
They stay in the room for a half hour and Miko coaches James in the nuances of being a slave. Keeping your eyes lowered, never talking back, all the things he learned during his time as a slave.
By the time Brother Willim makes his appearance, James has the basics down and should be able to pass himself off as one. Entering with his bowl in hand, he pauses a moment when he sees James there. White skin contrasting badly with the tanned areas of his body that had been exposed to sunlight, he almost glows in the dark.
James can see how Brother Willim is trying to fight back a grin that’s threatening to break out. “Go ahead and laugh if you want to,” he tells him.
Unable to restrain it, the grin breaks forth. “Sorry,” he says as he comes forward and begins applying the mixture to his pale skin with a cloth. In fact, he applies a coating to every square inch of his skin, including that which is under the loincloth. “With this on, you’ll be able to blend in with the other slaves.”
James stands there and endures it. The mixture itself doesn’t have all that bad of an odor, sort of smells like the forest on a hot summer day. It takes Brother Willim ten minutes to adequately apply the mixture, and when he’s done he steps back to look.
“That will do nicely,” Miko says. “You look just like a slave off the streets.”
“Do I?” he asks.
“Yep,” replies Miko. “Now, let’s go back to the others.”
James gets a slight panicked look at the though of others seeing him like this, but what else can he do? Face slightly red, he follows Miko out of the room and then over to the room where the others wait. He hesitates just a moment before entering behind him.
Every eye is on him and he feels very self conscious. “Well?” he asks.
“Remarkable,” Aleya says. “If I didn’t know it was you, I wouldn’t have recognized you.” The others nod their agreement.
“Are you ready?” the young man asks.
“No,” he replies. “But let’s just get this over with.”
The young man moves toward the door and James steps aside to let him pass. “Be back as soon as I can,” he tells them.
“Good luck,” offers Shorty.
As he leaves the room and closes the door behind him, James turns to follow the young man.
“Just keep your eyes down and follow me,” he says.
“What if someone tries to speak to me or stop me?” he asks.
“One person isn’t likely to accost or bother another person’s slave without their approval beforehand,” the slave explains. “That would be a severe breach of etiquette. In fact, depending on whose slave it is, there could be more serious repercussions.”
Descending the stairs, James hears the noise from the common room. In his loincloth, he feels very exposed. If it wasn’t for the mixture Brother Willim put on him to darken his complexion, he’s sure his skin would be beet red in embarrassment. Stepping off the bottom step, he follows the slave as he skirts the edge of the common room and leaves through the back door. He was sure that everyone in there was staring at him, but having kept his eyes lowered in proper slave fashion, he couldn’t tell.
