Chapter Twenty-Eight Noah

Noah tugged at the uncomfortable drudge mask. He was unsure he'd ever get used to wearing it.

After spending the entire morning shut away in the library, Arden felt Noah was ready to test out his new persona in front of others. The prior training with Kemp had paid off, and the drudge was pleased with Noah's progress. His training with Arden had involved completing numerous tasks: simply walking around the library, moving items from one place to another, reorganising books on the shelves, pouring drinks, and serving plates of food. Every task had to be completed maintaining the correct posture and keeping his eyes lowered.

It was harder than it looked.

After the news of Laura's capture and Arden's concern about Professor Kemp's return, it was all too easy to see what a dangerous position he was putting himself in. It was vital that he get everything right. But Arden was a good teacher, and a great model to follow. Noah marvelled at how he managed to convey so much with barely a word: small gestures, his posture, a nod or shake of his head, all sent an important message. He didn't think the other man had said more than a handful of words to him in the entire time they'd been together.

Noah was also questioning the term man. He knew the drudges were bred specifically for servitude. His ma had told him they weren't men like Flynn, or Paulo, or himself. But beyond that, he knew little. Arden looked male, however his behaviour was so unlike any man Noah had ever known that he struggled to place it. He didn't act like any of the females Noah knew either.

It was as though the drudges were a totally different species. Trained to be submissive, to go unnoticed, to be ignored. Yet every now and again, Noah caught a look in Arden's eye which suggested there was so much more to him than his obedient exterior. Kindness, empathy, personal opinions, even humour. Certainly, Danforth's servants deserved better treatment than they received.

Kemp had told him the punishment for a drudge who disobeyed was death. Yet, if drudges were bred to be like this, perhaps Danforth believed they'd never rebel. Yet Arden worked for the Resistance. Behind his quiet, submissive exterior, he wanted more. And that told Noah a lot about him. He was brave, intelligent, determined to make things better. Noah found it fascinating.

When he led Noah to the door of the library, Arden resecured his mask before opening it. Beckoning, he motioned for the two of them to move down the stairs together and into the hub. Noah walked by his side the whole way, working hard to mirror his actions and demeanor.

The room was far quieter now, with only Robyn seated at a table on the opposite side, close to the office door. Her head was down, and she seemed subdued, but she stood up as she saw them enter.

"Wow." She ran her eyes over Noah. "You're pretty convincing in the costume, I have to admit."

"I'd like Noah to serve lunch to a few people." Arden murmured from behind his mask. "Good practice for him."

"Sure." Robyn got up and moved towards the door. "I'll just fetch a few of the others. He'll need to convince more than just me."

As Robyn disappeared through the door, Noah followed Arden into the kitchen. His heart was pounding. Once inside, Arden gestured to the cupboards.

"Start by serving some drinks. Just as we practised." He nodded encouragement as Noah began setting up a tray of glasses. He was filling a pitcher with water when a door banged in the hub. Stiffening, his gaze followed the sound.

A cool hand on his arm brought his attention back to the task. He looked at the drudge who stood beside him. Unusually, Arden held his gaze. His eyes were calm and serious.

"Try to stay calm."

"That's easier said than done." Noah shut off the water and placed the pitcher on the tray with shaking hands. "I don't feel ready. I'm not–"

"If you mess up, just stop what you're doing and take a breath." The drudge smiled. "Fake a cough or sneeze, if you have to. You can get away with a lot under the cover of a tickle in the throat."

Arden relinquished his hold on Noah's arm, stepping back so Noah had space to work. Inhaling steadily through his nose, Noah tried to calm himself. One step at a time. To begin with, all he had to do was retain the drudge posture while pouring drinks. He had been working at it all morning. If he wanted to play his part in the Resistance, this was his chance.

He carried the pitcher over to the tray, making sure he could access everything he needed without issue. Outside, the sound of voices grew in volume as whoever Robyn had gathered came closer. He caught snippets of the various conversations as several women assembled around a table just outside the kitchen door.

"Still no news of Laura." The sharp tone belonged to Blake.

"Do you think Danforth will torture her?" Diane, Noah thought. "For information?"

"After what we heard Kemp go through this morning, I'd say it's fairly likely." The more reasonable voice belonged to Robyn, he was sure. But who was she talking about?

"Hammond gave her a real going over," Blake sounded disgusted. "Right there in Anderson's office."

Noah shuddered. Professor Kemp's return to the academy had obviously not gone as well as they'd been hoping.

The next voice he heard was lower in volume than the rest, but he identified it instantly.

"I thought it would never stop." His heart went out to Faith, clearly a witness to Kemp's beating. "It was awful."

"But she didn't give us away?" Diane was more practical. "We don't need to worry that Danforth knows where we are?"

"No." Robyn's voice rang with pride. "Kemp was amazing. Kept her mouth shut, no matter what Hammond dealt her."

"Do you think they'll leave her alone now?" This was Ella. Of course, she was concerned for Kemp's safety. "They believe her?"

"We hope so." Robyn's tone was sober now. "The assault lasted about fifteen minutes, but Kemp said nothing." He imagined her shrugging. "I guess they might try again later, but we're hoping her performance was convincing enough."

A silence settled over the group for a moment. Eventually, there was an impatient shifting and a voice called out.

"Noah?" Robyn sounded impatient. "You going to keep us waiting all day?"

Shaking himself, Noah grasped the tray firmly. With a last nod at Arden, he made for the door. He made sure to keep his head down as he entered the hub. Aware that every eye around the table was on him, he walked quietly to the table. Pausing to prop the tray on one hip, he removed the first glass and placed it on the table without issue.

"How's your training going, Ella?" Robyn piped up, as though she was aware of the pressure he was feeling. He found himself grateful for the distraction as he continued to make his way around the table.

"Okay, I think." As Ella began to speak, he could feel the women's eyes sliding away from him. "We've been studying maps of the city. I think I have a handle on the names of all the districts already. Diane has been testing me on the routes between the key landmarks, and…"

With his eyes downcast, it was difficult to know who he was serving. He recognised the red jumper Robyn had been wearing, and the ring Ella wore on her middle finger which he knew had belonged to Dawn, but others took him longer to identify. The drudge view of the world was a very different one. He was going to have to learn to read cues in other ways, relying on his hearing and peripheral vision.

But he would adjust. Relaxing slightly, he circled the table until he had placed a glass in front of every woman. Now for the pitcher. He inhaled slowly as he picked it up from the tray.

Moving back to Robyn, he leaned across to fill her glass. It was a tricky process, as she was deep in conversation with Ella and waving her arms enthusiastically as she spoke. She wasn't about to make this easy for him. But, he supposed, the false situation would become real life very soon, and the ordinary women of Bellator were unlikely to go easy on him.

Still, he was proud when her glass was full and he hadn't spilled a drop. And as she swooped forward to grasp the glass and bring it to her lips, he stepped out of the way without missing a beat.

Soon, Diane, Ella, and Blake had full glasses of water in front of them. He had kept his eyes cast downwards throughout, resisting the temptation to glance up and check the women's expressions to see how they thought he was doing. At last, there was only Faith left.

He lined himself up on her left side, exactly as he had with all the others. Faith sat very still as he leaned in and positioned the pitcher so it was directly above her glass.

But when he bent forward, he could smell her scent. Something slightly floral, reminding him of woodland flowers after a spring rainfall. Memories of their time in the forest came flooding back. He tensed, praying that his hand would stay steady while he was so close to her.

As he began to pour, Diane asked her a question and she turned her head towards her friend. The movement put her eyes on a level with his face. She opened her mouth to reply to the question and he felt her breath whispering across his cheek. The lips he had been about to kiss last night were only millimetres away from his.

Inhaling deeply, he fought to retain control. He would keep a steady hand if it killed him.

"Oh!" Ella exclaimed from the other side of the table.

Noah's eyes leapt to Faith's glass. For the first time in several moments, he focused all his attention on his task. He'd been concentrating on the wrong thing. And, whilst his hand was steady enough, the glass was overflowing.

Noah jerked back instantly, righting the pitcher. His eyes filled with horror. Faith stood up, pushing the bench back and leaping sideways to avoid the flood of water which was headed for her lap. On the opposite side of the table, Diane snickered.

"Way to lose focus," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," Noah looked up, his eyes meeting Faith's, "I didn't mean–"

Her face blanched and he froze, realising what he'd done.

Knowing it was too late to look away, he moved his eyes around the table. Ella's were filled with concern. Diane was stifling a smile. He was certain she'd asked the question in some effort to see how he would react to Faith's proximity.

But the more senior-ranking Resistance members were not laughing. When his gaze met Blake's, her eyes were cold. He looked at Robyn, the last person at the table. She had been nothing but nice to him since his arrival. Surely, she would understand?

But she was shaking her head. "Clean this up."

"Of course." He made for the kitchen door, his face flaming. "And then I'll start again."

"No." He turned back to face her. "Not today."

"But–" he started, closing his mouth and casting his eyes down at the dark look on her face.

"But nothing." Her tone brooked no argument. "Arden said you were ready. This was a simple task. The issue is not with you making the mistake and spilling the water. It's with your reaction to the mistake." She sighed. "Drudges are like another species. Perhaps we were too optimistic with our hopes that you could pull this off."

"Please," he held out a hand. "Give me another chance. This was just–"

"It was a failure." Blake's tone was harsh, but he knew she was right. "If you do that in Bellator, in front of real Bellator women, you'll be dead before the end of your first day."

A gasp ran around the table. Even Diane looked shamefaced.

"Blake's right." Robyn cast a glance at Faith. "If something as simple as proximity to an attractive young woman can put you off your game, how would you react to something going seriously wrong? How can we keep you safe? How can we rely on you to be useful, rather than a liability?"

"I'll do better!" He clenched his jaw, fighting to keep control for the second time in as many minutes. "I didn't come all this way for nothing. Just let me try again, and I'll–"

"The very fact that you're debating this with me proves our point." Noah lowered his head in shame at Robyn's disappointed tone. "Drudges don't talk back. They are subservient. They go unnoticed. We don't have the time or the resources for intensive training."

"I'm not sure it's worth the effort," Blake muttered.

"Perhaps not." Robyn gestured to the office. "Shall we get on?"

As Blake joined her and they stalked away, Arden emerged from the kitchen. He began mopping up the spilled water without a word. Noah knew he was simply being helpful, doing his job. But the perfect manner in which he executed the drudge-task made Noah feel ten times worse.

Unable to even look at Faith, he made his way back into the kitchen. He"d known what he needed to do. The task had been simple.

But he'd failed.