Lord of Raven's Peak - Catherine Coulter [8]
“You’ve been kind to me. If you didn’t have the scar, you would be beautiful. Your hair is golden, like a god’s, and your body is well made.”
“Aye, you’ve the right of it, little girl. Be quiet now. Thrasco ordered me to care for you. Aye, I find you unusual for a slave. Is Thrasco right? Are your parents not slaves? Is your blood unlike mine?”
She looked at him, then said slowly, “I have a little brother, Cleve.”
“Aye, I did, too, once long ago, only he was my big brother and he was sold and I wasn’t. I cannot bring his face into my mind now.”
“Then you must understand. I must save him.”
Cleve laughed in genuine amusement. “The little boy won’t die here, not in Kiev. Nay, he’ll be sold to an Arab trader from Miklagard, or even farther to the south, and he’ll be used, aye, I won’t lie to you about that, but it won’t be so bad. I survived it.”
“I’m sorry that you were used in that way. I cannot allow that to happen to Taby.”
“You are helpless to prevent it. You are a slave yourself. It matters not if you have royal blood flowing through your veins. You’re nothing now, less than nothing, a pawn in Thrasco’s endless games.”
“You speak very well for a wretched slave, Cleve!”
He grinned at her. “The master who used me also educated me. It gave him pleasure to discuss philosophy with me whilst he raped me. Also, when he was done with me and well sated, he enjoyed lying there, toying with my hair, speaking of the ancient Greeks and their strange ways. Your spirit will get you beaten to death, if you do not measure your words. Keep your mouth closed, little girl, else this magical cream won’t be able to heal you.”
She thought furiously, but gave it up, saying, her voice slurred with sleep, “Aye, you’re right. I’ll forget about him. What is one little boy? Naught to anyone.”
Cleve frowned at those words. Even after such a short time he recognized them as not sitting well on those thin, scrappy shoulders. Still, he said nothing. He rose and stared down at the girl’s back. “There is no more bleeding. Thrasco said I could bathe you on the morrow and give you clean clothes. He will come and inspect you himself. You will mind your tongue.”
“Clean clothes would be nice,” she said, and nothing more.
Still frowning, Cleve said, “He won’t think to demand you appear naked in front of him since he has no liking for boys, so you will be protected for a little while, but I cannot imagine that you will look much like a boy once you’re clean.”
“I’ve been a boy for a very long time. No one has guessed. It was my only protection and it worked.”
“Then you have been in a land of stupid people.” Cleve turned to leave her, though he worried, and wondered why he did so. She was naught of anything, just a slave, and she would be gone soon to Old Evta—that or Thrasco would discover her sex and she would probably be sold to a brothel or beaten to death.
“Thank you, Cleve,” he heard her call after him. Aye, if Thrasco discovered her sex, he just might kill her for ruining his plans. He knew the sister of Khagan-Rus, Old Evta, would never want a girl in her household. She had only female slaves who were older than the murky swamp that lay just to the west of the Dnieper.
It wasn’t his problem. What would happen would happen. She had courage, but of course she was stupid to show it. Look what it had gotten her. Flat on her belly with a raw back. It just made him sad to think of that girl dead, or worse.
Although what could be worse than death? He could not even bring the image of his long-dead mother’s face to his mind. Death was the last thing anyone could wish for.
It was dark, finally. From the single narrow window in the chamber, she could see only blackness. There was no moon and the stars were laced over with billowing dark clouds. Aye, it was very dark, thank the gods.
Laren had finished another bowl of broth, spoken only briefly to Cleve, for Thrasco needed him to serve at the evening meal. She begged him to leave her