Sentinelspire - Mark Sehestedt [66]
"Gaasur," she said. "What?"
"The pins for my hair. They are called gaasur." "How… did you…?"
She smiled a very happy smile and said, "I saw you watching me, and you had that look you get when you are thinking your deep thoughts."
"Deep thoughts?" Lewan chuckled.
Finished with her hair, she lowered her arms, considered a moment, then said, "I like it when you watch me, Lewan. I…"
He waited for her to finish. When she didn't, he said, "What?"
"I am glad I was told to serve you."
Serve me? Lewan scowled, the moment ruined, for it reminded him exactly what Ulaan was.
"Ulaan, how long have you lived here? In the Fortress?"
"Ten years," she said. Her smile melted. "Since I was sold to the Lady Talieth in Almorel."
Ten years. Twice as long as Lewan had been with Berun.
"Your parents…?"
"My mother was a servant of a wealthy merchant who trades along the Golden Way. My father might have been the merchant. Or he might have been any number of guests whom my mother… served."
Lewan could see the wariness in her eyes, but he had to know. "How many… others-other men-have you… served?"
He saw her instant of shock, then she turned her back to him. When she spoke, anger as well as hurt were in her voice. "I am a servant here, Master. I do as I am told. If that displeases you, you may send for another."
"Stop saying that!"
"What, Master?"
"Stop calling me master!" said Lewan, anger rising in his voice. "And stop telling me that I can have another…" "Another what? Another whore?" "I didn't say that." "You were thinking it."
Lewan growled and looked away, staring at the wall but not seeing it.
"Lewan?" The anger had gone from her voice. The hurt was still there, but there was something else as well-hope?
He looked to her again and saw that she had turned halfway round. Her back was straight, her head held high, her jaw out, the very picture of a woman in control of her emotions. But she balled her hands into tight fists, and he could see them trembling.
"What?" he said.
"You… you are not like… the others." She stopped, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. "When you look at me, when you touch me, when we…" She opened her eyes and looked right at him. He could see the sparkle of unshed tears. "Do you love me, Lewan?"
Lewan blinked. "I-"
A knock at the door-three sharp raps-then it opened and into the room stepped Talieth, dressed in a long, loose skirt and a sleeveless bodice that seemed to have been crafted from thousands of tiny links of red copper and laid over sheer red silk. A circlet made of the same material crowned her head, and dozens of rings and jewels bound her hair in a score of braids. Thick gold bracelets ringed her arms at each wrist and elbow. From head to toe she seemed the perfect image of a warrior queen.
Ulaan turned toward the Lady Talieth and dropped to a bow from which she did not rise.
Talieth spared both Ulaan and Lewan a quick glance, then looked at Lewan with a raised eyebrow and an upward curl of the corner of her mouth. "So nice to see you both dressed this time."
Lewan stood and faced her. "So nice of you to knock this time."
Talieth speared Lewan with her gaze. "Get into your robe and get the hood up," she said. "Time for today's studies."
+++++
Beneath the Dome of Fire in the private study, Talieth shut the door behind her and looked at Lewan.
"It's been five days, and you have unlocked none of the relic's secrets. Its power still sleeps. Explain yourself."
Lewan glanced over his shoulder to where Erael'len lay atop a linen cloth on the table, then focused his gaze on Talieth's chin. He couldn't quite bring himself to meet her gaze. "I am trying, my lady."
"You felt the tremor last night? Or was your attention elsewhere?"
"I felt it."
The metal lattice