TEARS OF THE FOOT GUARDS

SCHERZO - STAVE LII

S T A V E

LII

"It burns." Violation. Obedience on her back dulled from laudanum, knees astride her ears and her naked hips hiked on pillows.

Binah penetrated her – a greased copper funnel. "Hold still," she said, motherly and poured the Concoction.

"It burns," she said again. Violation to make Life. Violation to kill It. She swigged from a black bottle, watching the candle flames dance and the tallow drip over tin sconces. On the ceiling, the raw planks had darkened. Her mind wandered: the Four Farthings on the corner of Duck Lane and Great Peter – a noisy room with long tables. In the corner at a High Round sat Elliot, Billy and her –

"Why'd you change your mind?" she slurred as Binah placed basin between Obedience's legs. Rapists and Executioners.

"Maybe 'cause you're a creature in pain – I can't abide that. They're enough folks in this world that suck on pain – good folks gone crazy and some just pure bad. You know what I'm saying?"

"Yes –" a drunken animation. Such Stewards. Staring at the candles again – The Four Farthings –

She chatted up Elliot with her hand on Billy's arm, rubbing it – Billy Gill's birthday, turned thirty-three, and a proper grenadier in the Coldstream Guards and newly wed these four weeks. The Three-of-Them made a day of it: a tour of Bedlam and the Zoo. Obedience thought the tiger magnificent, pacing its cage, out of its element and half mad. Like Elliot, she said, Beautiful and Savage, and vowed to find him a Companion if only for the day. Elliot, Billy's squad mate and friend, must not be Single. For in the creases of his Reputation, she found in him . . . a charm. Yes, his face cruel, but cast by Unfortunate Circumstances as the World was in want to do. 'Twas Beaten into him. 'Beaten' – the word. She need not be told to see it . . . And his face not so cruel when looking at her. A caged heart she saw at once. They were similar creatures . . . Not that she was cruel. Whatever her failings, she was never cruel, but like him, beyond common. Creatures of Fire. Saw it with a single look. He saw it too. And were fast friends in a moment. Billy had no clue.

The long room crashed with talk, laughter mostly; you had to shout to be heard. Obedience nursed a hot wine as she was going to sing, while Gill got tight on brown ale. Elliot, a flagon too, but also his senses. Obedience, after scanning the room, said to Billy, "Which of these wenches is for Tommy?"

Gill pulled away; she's forever clinging. "Is there one without an eye? May be he'll look better through one drunk eye than two."

She rapped Billy's arm. "You sound like the Wives. What do those harridans know?" she said, then knocked Elliot's shoulder playfully with her head.

"More than you, my dear," Billy said and quaffed his beer. "Elliot is everything they say. Ain't you Tommy?"

"I'm a cruel thing," Elliot replied in that high voice of his.

From a long table, a First Guards private, upon raising his tankard, stopped in mid-drink, seeing Obedience. His eyes widened. Billy quick to notice. Obedience noticed too.

"God, there's another one," Billy said.

"Another what?" Elliot asked.

"I've not done a thing," Obedience said.

"That one –" Billy nodded at the long table. "Look'n at her."

She cradled her cheek on his arm. "But I'm with you."