how much she enjoyed being the center of their attention.
'I carry them for you,' Jagi said. 'To the kitchens?'
'That's right. Thank you.'
She followed him as he headed for the open gate. The well and the cisterns stood in a courtyard beyond the two gardens, at the highest point in the compound. A complicated system of troughs and pipes brought water from two large cisterns to the pool, the plantings, and the privies, an astounding display of wealth that Avisha still marveled at after weeks living in Olossi. This compound by itself was bigger than the temple complex in her village.
'So, you will marry me, yes?' Chaji paced alongside, hand tapping the ranks of damp cloth in all their bright colors hung on lines to dry. By the smaller cistern, two women pounded wet clothes on stones, pausing to eye Chaji. 'You are the prettiest of the girls. You are young. You work hard. The mistress favors you.'
Ahead, Jagi grunted under his breath, but he kept walking through the gate into the passage that separated the open-to-the-air kitchen from the living quarters. He turned left, under the kitchen's
tiled roof, where hirelings standing at long tables plucked chickens and chopped up haricots, onions, and apricots. In the kitchen yard, steam rose from pots of rice and fragrant barsh set over hearths. Ginger tea was brewing.
Avisha stepped up into the shade of the porch and slipped off her straw sandals, while Chaji bobbed on his toes oja the walk.
'Yes?' he asked, not coming after her. 'That is your answer? Yes?'
Looking back over her shoulder at him with just, she hoped, the right amount of promise, she pushed through the curtained entrance and promptly tripped over the handle of a broom. She sprawled, hitting her chin on the plank floor. Sitting up, she saw Sheyshi lazily pulling the broom straight.
'You bitch! You did that on purpose!'
The other girl stared at her with dull, angry, stupid cow eyes. A heap of swept dirt was piled by her dainty feet.
Avisha grabbed for the broom. 'I'll show you!'
Sheyshi yanked the broom away and backed behind the ranks of rolled-up bedding.
'Merciful God, gift me patience!' Priya walked into the room. Under her quelling gaze, the two girls looked away from each other. 'What happened here?'
'Nothing, verea,' said Avisha as she got to her feet. Although Priya was a slave and therefore not actually deserving of the respectful form of address, Avisha saw perfectly well how the mistress trusted her. 'I just tripped. The water buckets went to the kitchen. I can get more.'
Priya examined first her, then Sheyshi. 'Sheyshi, finish sweeping, then fold the mattresses properly and hang out the bedding. I'll have no bugs. Avisha, come with me.'
Rubbing her throbbing chin, Avisha followed Priya into the inner chambers, each one ornamented with painted scrolls hanging on the walls and a few well-chosen pieces of polished black-lacquer furniture that had, as it happened, belonged to the previous owners. They had been rich enough to own five chairs, and the mistress sat in a padded chair now as she regarded a pair of merchants seated in visitor's chairs. Mai received favored business associates in the chamber known as six-seasons-of-the-crane because of the six-paneled screen set against one wall.
Avisha waited beside the entrance as the mistress completed her business. She never got tired of studying the beautifully painted screen, with cranes dancing in a field of early-blooming pink-heart on one panel, or a bachelor flock staging for their journey to the drowsy swamps of Mar beneath white-petaled wish-vines symbolic of hopes of finding a good mate on another.
'Meanwhile, ver,' Mai was saying, 'it has come to my attention that your factor has changed the unit of measurement from a unit by log to one of standing timber.'
The man she addressed was considerably older, plump, with a primly pursed mouth. He glanced toward Chief Tuvi, who stood behind Mai's chair. 'It's the usual standard of sale, verea.'
Mai had a pleasing, cheerful voice, quite innocent of malice. 'Yet the original contract was made by unit of log. I can't help but wonder if standing timber may produce less log depending on defects within the trees themselves, which may not be detected until they are split and sawed for building. Really, ver, you have given us such fine quality and quantity of wood, that I would hate to have to ask my factor to begin negotiations with another house.' She smiled. Like the masterly painting of cranes on the screen, you could not help but admire beauty.
'Eh, ah,' said the merchant, stumbling over his tongue. Avisha was sure he had never had such a cold threat delivered so prettily. 'I am sure my factor made a mistake, verea. I'll speak to her at once.'
His glance toward the clerk would have scalded skin. And, indeed, Avisha could smell, from the kitchens, that the plucked chickens had been dumped into a pot of boiling water.
'You may speak to my factor in the office on your way out,' said Mai kindly.
'That would be the young man, who once was Master Feden's factor?'
'He serves our house. Was there something you wanted to say, ver?'
'Neh, neh. We'll be on our way.'
They sketched the formal farewells.
'I'm hungry,' said Mai once they were gone. 'I'll take cake and tea in the pavilion, and interview more women.'
'Perhaps you should rest, Mistress,' said Priya.
'I'm not tired. Just so hungry! I feel I ought to have some marriages arranged now that the settlement is rising in the Barrens.' As she rose, she turned a warm gaze on Avisha. 'What about you, Vish?'
'Oh, I don't know,' Avisha answered as her gaze skipped to the curtained entrance where Keshad might, if he left the office to consult the mistress, walk in at any moment. But Mai beckoned, so she followed her into the large garden where they sat on benches beneath the repainted pavilion and laughed and chattered as they ate bean curd buns so sweet Avisha could not finish even one while Mai devoured two without apparently noticing that she had done so.
A pair of girls watched over a dozen small children, the offspring of women Mai had hired to work in the compound. Their babble lightened an otherwise cloudy day as they, Zianna among them, splashed in the long pools or played thro wing-sticks on the stones. Chief Tuvi stood on the porch that ran the width of the garden. Mostly he scanned the garden, the walls, Mai, her attendants, but at intervals he paused to watch the children's play with a smile.
Jerad was slumped on a bench beneath the branches of a butternut tree. He slouched over to the pavilion and waited at the base of the steps.
'What is it, Jer?' Avisha asked.
'I want to go home.'
This ridiculous statement embarrassed her. 'Don't be ungrateful,' she said in a low voice, leaning down toward him. 'We're fortunate to have been shown so much favor.'
'You just like the pretty silk and the soldiers smiling at you. You don't care about Papa at all anymore, do you?'
'How dare you!' That Mai should overhear this only made it worse. She raised a hand, threatening a slap.
'Jerad,' said Mai. 'I'm going to cut the rest of the buns into pieces. Can you take them around and see that every child gets one? You'll have to make sure the greedy ones don't take more than one. They'll try. Especially that little Nanash. He's quite a sneak.'
'I don't like him,' said Jerad stoutly. 'He pinches when he thinks the adults aren't looking.'
'Well,' observed Mai as she sliced up the buns with a knife, 'I think he saw some very bad things, so naturally he is frightened all
the time. Just like you did, Jerad, only it seems you are able to treat others kindly instead of taking out your fear on them. That shows a good heart and a good nature.' She offered him the platter.
Eyes wide, he took it gravely. 'Yes, Auntie.' Shoulders straight, he marched off to distribute the sweets.
'Thank you,' mumbled Avisha, thoroughly ashamed.
'Hu! I grew up in a clan surrounded by siblings and cousins. You think that wasn't anything I didn't hear ten
