"Theo! Cook said that we need extra grain brought up -- she's made five loaves more this month than the last."

Theodor breathed deep and worked out the kinks in his shoulders and neck. By design he only had two candles burning on his desk -- better for his slave trainer to sit closer. Emery, not an unintelligent man by any means, simply smiled to himself and allowed his lover this little attempt at seduction.

"I think I should be able to finish these notes without your help, Theo," he said, stretching. "Although I would like for you to check my... figures at a later time."

Theodor blushed and quickly bundled up for the winter chill. He left mumbling about finding last year's receipts from the granary and the miller. Emery grinned, watching his lover take leave, and turned to the other owner. "Misha, when you have time, I'd like to talk to you about the arrivals from last fall."

Misha, having thrown off his cloak and wet boots, planted himself in front of the roaring fire and wriggled his bare toes in bliss. "Ah. That's good. Let me guess. This is about Lavender?"

Emery frowned. "Lavande is a sweet child, when you get to know her," he said. "She's very bright and is quite a cook-"

"We didn't buy her to cook for clients," Misha pointed out. He sighed at Emery's glare. "Em, I know you like her. *I* like her. But she's pretty and she can be pleasant when she wants to be. She would make us more money in the front room than in the kitchens."

"But she's desperately unhappy," Emery said sadly. "She's only a child, Misha. Not everyone we acquire is qualified for the front rooms."

"I know. So we sell the ones who don't work out. We have this discussion every time, Em," Misha said gently. He wondered again how a man who trained others to have sex with strangers could be so sensitive. "We don't run-"

"A charity. Oui, I know, I know." Emery ran long fingers through his hair. "But Misha, it's winter. No one needs an extra mouth to feed during these bitter months." He turned his pleading, dark blue eyes on his friend and boss. " Si'l vous plait, Misha. Just until spring. Allow me to reassign her to the kitchens. Deborah always needs assistance during the busy season."

Emery waited expectantly for an answer, but Misha continued to stare into the fireplace. "Do you ever feel as if you're getting... too old for this?" he finally asked, his voice strangely soft. "The selling of bodies for pleasure?" He frowned and blinked once -- the fire was getting too hot, and he was sitting too close. "When I was Lavender's age, if I had known I would be sitting here, in the back offices of the Quoin, discussing the life of a child like so much meat, to be bought and used..."

He shook his head and pulled his chair away from the flames. "All right. Lavender goes to the kitchens. The winter holidays are coming, and the negotiations for next year's planting season will be upon us soon." He smiled ruefully. "You know how Thomas gets when he feels he's being cheated out of his seeds. Deborah's cooking is the only thing that pacifies him. He says it's better than his own wife's."

Emery gave a wry smile in return. Thomas Hetter and his paranoia over his business were well known among the employees of the Quoin. "Thank you, mon ami," he said. "There's one other item to discuss. Petit Petal-"

"Jósteinn?" Misha frowned. "What of him? I thought he was doing well. The client he had yesterday seemed pleased. He even left a gratuity."

"Well, oui," Emery admitted. "He is becoming one of the more popular workers here."

"Then what?" Misha asked. "I've even seen him helping the younger ones with their chores. He doesn't talk much, but that's hardly a hindrance in this place."

"Non, non. He's very... likable, when he wants to be," Emery said. "And his demeanor seems to arouse his clients-"

"Each man wants to be the one to make him scream," Misha cut in, laughing. "I think he's the most silent worker we've ever had. His submissive nature inflames his men."

"Joke if you must," Emery said, miffed. "But Petal de Glace can be even colder than the forest outside. And he still recoils from anal penetration. It is becoming more difficult to fabricate excuses for his attitude. I simply cannot get through to him."

"Em, Petal's shortcomings aren't a reflection of your ability as a trainer," Misha said soberly. "Victoire said to give the boy some time. You saw his scars. Someone used him most cruelly." He tried another tactic. "Maybe one of the younger ones can-"

"Chasseur has tried," Emery said, rolling his eyes. "For someone so young, he's very good at, how do you say it, drawing people out of themselves. And Petal has warmed to him, a bit. But still..."

"All right, all right," Misha said, yawning. He was fully warmed now himself, and feeling quite sleepy. In the winter months the Quoin wouldn't really start their business until after supper, and the Abbey's bells hadn't rung for Vespers yet. "So what do we need to do?"

Emery shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea... yet. But someday he will have no choice, and I would rather have him submit willingly than by force. I want him to experience some enjoyment in his work."

Misha stretched and stood up, reaching for his now dry and warm boots. "We'll see," he said. "Oh, and we received a message from a tradesman from Argyll this morning. I forgot to tell you, but we have some time yet."

"What is it?"

"It looks like King Louis of France is heading up a Crusade," Misha replied with a grin. "The pope is calling for all able-bodied men to go with him. And since the route from Argyll and Bute from points north go through Cardross-"

"We will be very busy this winter," Emery finished, chuckling. "There is nothing like bloodshed to remind hot-blooded men of the pleasures they will leave behind."

Misha nodded. "We need to look into getting more beds, and more malt for beer," he said. "And who knows? Maybe young Jósteinn will find the man who'll thaw his frozen heart."

*****

Jósteinn grabbed mugs and pitchers from the table and made his way over to the kitchens, dodging the tables full of the grasping hands of men who wanted more than a refill of ale. He was off from working in the front rooms tonight, and as usual on these nights he was covered neck-to-toe in a rough, woolen robe.

He swung the dirty dishes into the huge sink, where a young redheaded boy stood filling the tub with scalding water.

"By the Virgin! It's hot in here!" The boy puffed out a noisy breath and wiped his face with his sleeve. "But better in here than out in the cold, eh, Glace?"

Jósteinn stiffened at the use of his nickname. He had gradually become accustomed to Emery's use of it -- indeed, the trainer had come up with it -- but the boy regarded it as a "working name," and something he could use to shield himself from what he did in the front rooms. For the other boy to use it was intolerable, but tolerance was something Jósteinn could ill afford.

He still had some dignity left, however. "My name is Jósteinn," he said, throwing his companion a glare. "I'll not respond to that other name here."

"You just did," the redhead shot back, smirking. "Anyway, what's the harm? You call me Chasseur all the time. I don't mind."

"You told me to call you that," Jósteinn replied. "Just as I told you to call me by my given name."

The other boy shrugged. "Hey, did you hear about the new crusade?" he asked. He whistled appreciatively. "Lots of money to be made, if you know what I mean."

But Jósteinn merely looked annoyed by the news. "More men means more time in the front rooms, being fondled and pawed at by sweaty, dirty hands," he said quietly.

"And what's your problem with that?" Chasseur asked, sneering. "Oh, that's right, little Petal can't stand being dirty. Little Petal has to bathe once a day. Little Petal won't- ow!"

"That's enough out of you, you scoundrel. Get back to the well and collect more water. We have beer to make." Deborah, the cook, released her hold on Chasseur's ear and pushed him toward the kitchen door. "Out!" She turned to Jósteinn, who was silently and speedily rinsing out the dirty mugs. "And you, Petal, you best mind your place. Master Theo and Master Misha spend a lot of money feeding you and keeping you here. You're no better than the others, so don't be putting on airs."

Jósteinn wanted to remind the woman that he had no choice where he ate and slept, but characteristically changed the subject. "Do you want me to get new hay for the floors?" he asked quietly. "It's getting muddy out there."

Deborah gave him a searching look, then sighed and shook her head. "No, Chasseur is helping me in the kitchens tonight, and Lavender is starting the beer making," she said. "Aren't you in the front rooms tomorrow?" At Jósteinn's nod, she waved her hand. "Go one to bed, then. You'll need your rest."

But as Jósteinn climbed the back stairs to his little pallet in the boys' sleeping room, a tall, young girl barreled over him, hastily tying a ribbon in her dark hair as she rushed toward the main entranceway. "Petal!" she exclaimed, gasping. "Hurry! Get changed! Lord Cinea is here with his men!"