Study of a Master's Heart: Part Two

NONE ENTERED BY AUTHOR

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   The Master, as Lalan knew him, always smiled when he entered the 
room.  But, according to word from other servants he rarely smiled 
before Lalan's arrival.  Either way Lalan did not care if he smiled 
or not.  He didn't care if the world was falling apart outside the 
window--he didn't give a damn about anything.

   The Master owned a lot of land where he bred some of the finest 
horses in asia and the middle east.  He was out most of the time 
tending to the sick horses or exercising them or even grooming them 
when he let the servants take a break.  This was strange for Lalan to 
see--Masters rarely did so many menial chores, but apparently the 
Master cared more about his horses than about his own father who, 
(according to the town gossips) kept sending him letters to come back 
to his native land.  

   One day as the Master brushed down a horse Lalan came up with a 
bag of oats to feed the horse.  Master watched him carefully as he 
held the bag before the horse's muzzle.  When the bag touched the 
horses mouth it jumped suddenly--the horse reared up with a neigh and 
the Master quickly grabbed the reins, pulling it down.  Immediately 
Lalan was sorry--the horse came down on his foot hard and not until 
this moment did Lalan ever wonder about the weight of a horse.  Now 
he cursed the beasts existence as he cried out, grasping his foot in 
both hands an hopped on one foot.

   "Oh, Lalan!"  Master said.  "The horse cannot see you when you 
stand right in front of him--you must stand to the side so he won't 
be scared.  Now come on lets see the foot--let go of it!  Come here 
let me take a look now stop jumping around I cant see a thing like 
that."

   "Oh bloody horse!"  Lalan cried.  "He's not getting any more oats 
from me!!"

    The Master shook his head as he gazed down at the rapidly 
bruising foot.  "Well, Lalan, NO ONE is getting any oats from you," 
he said with a small chuckle.

    Lalan stood there for a moment not knowing what to make of it.  
Then he realized what he meant.  It was a right out joke about his 
castration and that, Lalan told himself, was not tolerable at all!

    "Oh very funny indeed!"  Lalan cried.  "Why don't you just go off 
and marry one of your god-damned horses, cause by the looks of things 
you're not going to be charming anyone into your bed anytime soon!"

    "Watch your tongue," Master said in a low ominous voice.

    "No," Lalan said hopping away.  "You watch yours!  And then maybe 
I'll decide if I'll watch mine or not.  You cut off my balls but Im 
still a man!"  He sniffled wiping his nose with the back of his 
hand.  "Im still a man and I still got my tongue--unless you wanna 
cut THAT off as well!  And while you're at it cut off my limbs and 
keep me in a dungeon somewhere and throw me hunks of raw meat so I 
can slobber all over them!"

     Master burst out laughing, his long wheat-colored hair flying 
over his head as he doubled over.  

     "Thats not funny!" Lalan cried out.  The master collapsed on the 
floor in laughter and the horse skittered away from the scene.  "Oh, 
stop it!"

    "Im. . .Im trying to--Im sorry,"  Master gasped combing his hair 
back away from his face with his hand.  "I guess I better watch my 
tongue,"  he said at last laying back on the grass and turning his 
head to look at Lalan,  "if I ever hope to charm you to my bed."

   Lalan's heart skipped a beat when he heard this.  He frowned and 
crossed his arms and then lifted his chin up in the best haughty 
fashion he knew.  

   "Very good,"  Master said watching, "Just little bit colder and 
hell will freeze over."

   "Very funny,"  Lalan grumbled.

   "Oh come now, don't be such a hardass, Lalan.  You know you want 
to laugh.  Come on smile at least.  You have such a pretty face you 
could make me stumble if you just smiled."

    Lalan turned away and limped off into the house.  He pretended 
not to care about the words, but they were ringing in his ears.  It 
made him flush and suddenly he felt as if a fever was washing over 
him.  That night he slept in his small bed next to the Master's room 
as he always did, listening to the Master's steps on the wooden 
floor, to the fire in its hearth eating away at the wood.  Those 
words. . .you could make me stumbled if you just smiled.  Well, he 
thought, let's see if its true.  

    The next day Lalan cleaned the Master's room--a hard feat to do 
since there was rarely anything that needed to be cleaned, but he 
found a reason to stall and hang about.  Then, sometime after noon he 
heard the Master coming down the hall, his thick cracked leather 
boots thudding heavily on the ground.  Lalan rushed to the master's 
desk, picking up the jar of in and he bent down and slid the jar 
beneath the desk.  When he heard the master near the door he knelt 
down close to the ground and reached under the table-pretendig to 
retreive the ink jar.  Of course Lalan was wearing his flimsy 
loincloth that twisted around between his legs and went up between 
his buttocks--and his butt was aimed straight at the door for the 
full effect he wanted.  

     He heard the door open and the thud of two steps taken into the 
room.  Then there was silence.  Lalan stretched out his arm beneath 
the desk grasping the ink jar with his finger tips and then he sat 
leaned back on his knees letting out a sigh.  Then he pretended he 
was just aware of someone behind him and he turned his head slowly, 
his eyes large and wondering as he looked up at the master.  The 
Master stood there with a tray balanced on his left hand--stacked up 
on the tray were rows upon rows of jars filled with a clear liquid--
jars where stacked upon jars and he held the tray with ease.  Then as 
Lalan looked up at him he blinked innocently and then slowly. . . he 
smiled.

   Suddenly the tray in Master's hand tilted and the jars fell 
clashing to the floor--glass breaking and flying across the wooden 
panels--the tray falling and bouncing next to his boots.  Master 
didn't seem aware of what just happened, he was staring at Lalan with 
the most humorous expression.  His eyes were enormous as if he were 
in a state of shock, and his jaw had dropped so that a tiny drop of 
drool threatened to roll off his bottom lip.  His hand--which had 
been holding the tray--was still help up beside him as if the tray 
were still in it.

   "Master?"  Lalan said trying not to laugh as he stood up and 
placed the ink jar back on the table.  Suddenly Master blinked, 
closing his mouth and then turning to stare at the broken glass on 
the floor.  "I hope it wasnt something that important,"  Lalan said 
gesturing to the mess. 

   "No no . . ."  Master ran his hand through his mane of hair and 
turned to look back at Lalan.  "Just some things for the horses. . 
.to kill the flies in their stomachs. . "

   Lalan tilted his head and a strand of hair fell over his eyes--How 
perfect, he thought--and he gazed up as sweetly as he knew how.  
Suddenly Master took a step towards him but he tripped over his own 
feet and staggered forward so that Lalan had to reach out and catch 
the man--who was twice his height--and break his fall.  Something 
happened, Master fell in a certain way or Lalan leaned forward too 
much so that suddenly their lips were touching. 

     In an instant they were kissing and then before anything else 
could happen a servant showed up at the door.  

    To Lalan's shock it was the eunuch from the royal court of the 
local prince, and he held two of Master's servants in each arm.

    "The prince wants these two castrated," he said.  Then he jutted 
his chin toward Lalan.  "And he wants him too."

    "Who are you to come here and take my servants?" Master said with 
a frown.  "Attempt to take them from me and I shall make you re-live 
YOUR castration all over again.  I promise."