The Dragon Revenant - Katharine Kerr [37]
“Put these on. You won’t be much of a gift with horse sweat all over your clothes.”
Inside was a plain but good-quality white tunic and a new pair of sandals, a hair comb, and—much to Rhodry’s surprise—a good bronze razor in a plain sheath.
“Well, you’ll need to shave every day,” the master said; he’d apparently noticed Rhodry’s surprise even if he seemed to think nothing of handing a slave a potential weapon. “You’re a house slave now, and you’ll be expected to keep yourself clean, not wallow with the animals like a barbarian. Speak humbly at all times, and do exactly what the chamberlain tells you. If you do one wrong thing, and I’m not here to flog you, then her brother-in-law will. And try to do something about those Deverry table manners, will you? Her other slaves are civilized people, and they’ll have to share a table with you.”
They left the inn just after sundown. Carrying a lantern, Miko went a few paces ahead as they walked through the wide, straight-running streets, lined with palm trees and jasmine. They passed the market square, where tiny oil lamps were flickering into life like the evening stars, then climbed a hill to a neighborhood where enormous houses stood in their compounds behind stucco walls. Although it was hard to see clearly in the lantern light, Rhodry could make out elaborate frescoes painted on every one of them. Eventually they came to a wall painted with a rural scene; set in a painted cottage was a real wooden door. When Pommaeo called out, an elderly slave opened it and ushered them inside.
In the midst of tangled jasmine and spent roses a fountain leapt and splashed in a courtyard, which was lined with the tall wooden statues of the clan’s ancestors. The longhouse itself, with a pair of crossed oars in front of the door, stood toward the rear. At a tiled entranceway a maidservant bowed low, then took them down the hall into a large, airy room with a blue and white floor. The walls were painted in a cunning illusion of branches, leaves, and bright-feathered birds, as if the room were set in the treetops of a forest. Dozens of oil lamps glowed in niches and on shelves and glittered on silver oddments and glass vases of flowers. Toward one end was a low dais piled with velvet cushions. Lounging among them was one of the most beautiful women Rhodry had ever seen.
She was not very tall, but slender with coppery skin set off by curly black hair that waved tightly around her perfect oval face. Her enormous dark eyes watched Pommaeo with just the right touch of humorous disdain, while her long, slender fingers played with a silk scarf. In the lamplight she looked like a girl, but her movements and expression made Rhodry think that she must be well past thirty. Pommaeo gave Rhodry a cuff to make him kneel before the dais, then launched into a long and flowery speech, whose point was mainly that his humble gift was unworthy of her great beauty. So this is the poor old widow, is it? Rhodry thought. He found it in his heart to think better of his temporary owner. Laughing under her breath, Alaena tossed the scarf aside and sat up to look Rhodry over.
“Oh how sweet! For me? You shouldn’t have!”
His arrogance dissolving into a love-besotted simper, Pommaeo perched on the edge of the dais. Alaena patted Rhodry on the head like a dog, giggled when she held up a soft brown hand to compare the color of his skin, then called to the maidservant to bring an oil lamp. Together they stared into Rhodry’s eyes.
“Look, Disna!” the mistress said. “They’re blue!”
When Disna giggled and shot him a sidelong glance, Rhodry realized first that the slavegirl was almost as pretty as her owner, and second, that he might find some consolations in his captivity. Alaena turned to Pommaeo and held out her hand for him to kiss—the gift, apparently, was a great success.
Although Miko stayed to pour wine for the masters, Rhodry followed Disna to the enormous kitchen, tiled in browns and reds. At one end