Page 11 of Freedom Mine
His demonstration at the pylons was nothing more than a trick. Kayo was just another owner who justified having slaves by making lofty promises that would never come to fruition. Maybe that’s how he got them to cooperate too, cut down on how many overseers he needed. Aside from the one who’d been talking with Kayo in the kitchen earlier, she hadn’t seen any other overseers. Then again, most of the slaves were up at the mine. The other overseers were probably up there.
As she entered the house, she smelled meat. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, if that gray mush on the transport qualified as food. She poked her head into the kitchen and was shocked to see Kayo, and not a slave, cooking. Kayo was chopping away, tossing vegetables into a pan, stirring the contents of a pot, and whistling while he did so. Almost as surprising was how he managed to cook in that kitchen. There were stacks of dirty dishes and pans on every surface, save one, the table. He had no autoclean or autocook unit, only an old-fashioned stove, sink, and chiller. Either the man was old school or he put his money into other necessities, like slaves.
“Ah hah, just who I need,” he said, swinging a chair underneath her so she had no choice but to sit.
“Taste this,” he said as he shoved a fork at her with meat on the end. Her stomach growled louder. She opened her mouth and let him feed her. Flavor exploded on her tongue.
His eyes lit as she ate. “Good?”
She nodded. Even if it wasn’t, she would have said ‘yes’.Never disappoint the owner. That was rule number one that Mocco had taught her years ago. Wise words from a wise slave.
“If you set the table, we can eat.”
“We?” she asked.
“Unless you have a date or really can’t stand to be near me,” he said.
Maybe her hearing was going too, along with her sanity. She was a fool to be staring at him, regardless of how his smile reached his eyes. “A date?”
“I saw you out by the stables earlier. Figured you ran into Ranth.”
“Slaves don’t date. They get paired for their owners’ entertainment sometimes.”
His shoulders tensed. She’d nearly missed his hesitation as he slid the platter of meat onto the table.
“I told you, you’re not a slave here,” he said, his tone no longer buoyant. “Well, legally you are, but only until I can pay for your freedom. Maybe you’ll believe me in time, maybe you won’t. But I’m hungry and if you want to eat, then you can set the table. Otherwise, you can head down to the longhouse and eat with the men when they get off shift.”
Alrighty then, dinner with Kayo. After a few minutes of opening drawers and cabinets, she found all the necessary dishes and set the table. He brought a small plate of vaka beans to the table along with the stew and a pitcher of water and waited for her to sit. He actually expected her to eatwithhim. She’d never eaten with an owner before, never even been allowed to eat in an owner’s kitchen. This whole situation was so strange. It was as if she were a guest in a home, not a slave.
The second she took her seat, he dug in. Kayo had a hearty appetite, but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. He stopped eating and pointed his fork toward her food.
“You don’t like it?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she said, forcing herself to start eating.
While the food tasted good and she wasstarved, she found eating with him unsettling, though nice at the same time. He was more relaxed than she’d seen him before.
Clearly, based on the mess in the kitchen, he liked to cook, but not clean. It only took a few bites to decide he was a decent cook in need of a cleanup crew. Or perhaps a slave.
But slaves didn’t eat with their owners. They cooked for and served them. This was all very confusing. Not to mention he hadn’t asked her anything about what she’d done the past few hours.
And he’d inferred she could date, as if she were free to choose who she’d sleep with. Had she misjudged him, despite what the stable slave Ranth had said?
She sucked in a breath and gathered her courage. “Aren’t you curious about why I went to the stables?”
“Curious, yes, but I figure you’ll tell me if you want to. Not really any of my business, as long as you’re not interfering with the operation at the mine.”
She wanted to believe him. He was trusting her. Then again, with the chip at the base of her brain and the pylons around the property, he could afford to let her roam free. She had to test that fence, on her own, when he least expected it. Her fingers slid along the back of her neck.
“Are you sore?” he asked.
“No, why would I be?”
“You keep touching the back of your neck. The chip,” he said as he rose, his voice flat. Kayo walked away, only to return with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He filled both glasses and slid one over to her. She sniffed it. She’d never had alcohol before.
“Drink,” Kayo said, as he swallowed the contents of the snifter in one swig.
“What if I don’t want to?”
