alurais [ ah loo RAYZ ], (noun) — loyalty, allegiance, adoration
"Kor."
The sound of his name raises his eyelids.
"What day is it, Kor?"
"It is the second day of my trial."
I nod. "We are hardly begun, we two."
"Yes, Thirukedi."
"Why are we here, Kor?"
"Because there is no Civilization without Shame, Thirukedi."
I smile. "Why am I here?
"Because there is no Shame without Civilization."
"And you? Why are you here?"
"Because I would serve You, and to serve You I must feel the touch of every tool I use on those I would Correct."
"What day is it again, Kor?"
"The second day of my trial, Thirukedi."
"We two, we are hardly begun."
I remove the gag from his mouth, candle-flame glimmering in the long arc of spittle connecting it to his lips.
"What day is now, Kor?" I ask, soft.
Hoarse. "It is the thirteenth day of my trial, Thirukedi."
"Why are we here, Kor?"
"Because I have not done learning."
"When will it end?"
"When you decree, Thirukedi."
"And why is that?"
"Because Civilization demarks the boundaries of Shame always. I await Your word. Your word is law."
I nod and touch the back of my hand to his sweat-slicked cheek... wishing he were not so strong. "It is the thirteenth day of your trial, Kor. You may give over."
"No, Thirukedi," he breathes, eyes closed.
"We abide," I say, and send for the ropes.
"And now, Kor?" I ask, my voice echoing in the stone hall.
"It is... a day... some day, in my trial," he says. I have blinded him with the eyes-as-pearls drops and this has stolen his equanimity at last. I cup his face to gauge the tremor in his body.
"Why are we here?" I ask.
"Because Civilization requires Correction," he whispers. "Always Correction and never torture."
"Why am I here?" I ask.
His eyes seek my face, though he cannot see. "Because Civilization alone can Correct Shame."
"Why are you here?"
"Because I serve at your word," he says. "Because Shame is blind without the rule of law. Because without society, Shame is mute. Because Civilization must bind and shape Shame to its purpose... and You are Civilization, society and law."
"What day is it?" I ask.
"I don't know."
I draw him from the pedestal and reach for the vial as he breathes raggedly against my breast. Not since the first of his order has any priest had every tool and method at his disposal, for no servant of Shame may inflict on another what he has not suffered himself. And he has endured them all over six long weeks... and only now, at last, lost himself.
I tip the astringent into the first eye. As it waters, clearing the nacre, I ask, "Why don't you know?"
"Because you must tell me."
Even as I lead him back, I smile. "It is the last day of your trial, Kor Nai'Nerillin-osulkedi."
"Is it done?"
"It is done, Shame's servant. You are mine."