figure was cloaked and hooded in rough woven brown cloth, and its movements were stealthy and deliberate
The quayside of the harbour was crowded with revellers, and there were bonfires burning here. The reflections of the flames smeared ruddy and bright upon the still black waters of the lake. Around them, arms linked in a circle, danced the crowds. Some of the women were past all restraint, stripped naked to the waist, spilled wine snaking down their white bodies like blood.
Huy stopped to watch them a while, and the following figure hung back, mingling with the throng of merrymakers.
When Huy started forward, the cloaked figure hurried forward also. The lane that led up to Huy’s house was in deep darkness, but a lamp burned dimly in a niche above the gate, left there to welcome the master home.
As Huy groped his way towards the light, the following figure closed with him silently and swiftly. The blundering sounds of his own progress blanketed the rustle of cloth and the light footfalls behind him.
Huy reached the gate, and he stood in the dim lamplight. His dagger was under his cloak, and his sword hand reached out for the latch of the gate. In that instant while he was unready and off balance, the dark figure flew at him from out of the darkness. A hand closed on his wrist, and he was thrown back against the wall beside the gate. Wine had slowed his reflexes, he twisted bis face upwards in surprise and alarm. He saw the dark figure, with its face hidden in the recesses of the hood, come at him - and before he could shout soft lips were pressed against his, and a little muffled chuckle broke through these lips into his startled mouth - and he felt warm breasts and thighs moving against him.
The shock of it paralysed Huy. For long seconds he stood utterly still while lips and cunning hands teased and goaded him. Then with a hoarse cry he reached for the taut warm woman shape, and immediately it was gone, slipping away beyond his reach.
He lunged for it wildly, his hands groping air, and the shape danced away, swirled through the gateway into Huy’s house and slammed the gate closed.
Cursing desperately, Huy struggled with the gate, wrenched it open at last and ran into the entrance court.
There was a flash of dark movement across the court, disappearing into the house, and Huy raced after it, tripped over a cushion and fell full length, knocked over a stool on which a house slave had left an amphora and wine bowl. They shattered loudly, splashing wine across the mud floor. A mocking whisper of laughter, from the dim recesses of the house, sent Huy scrambling to his feet and charging onwards. He saw the cloaked figure silhouetted against the lamplit doorway of his sleeping quarters.
‘Wait!’ he shouted. ‘Who are you?’ And his house slaves roused by the uproar came running, still halt asleep, panicky and hastily armed.
‘Be gone!’ Huy shouted at them furiously. ‘All of you - the first one I catch out of his room before morning, I will have flogged.’ And they retreated to their quarters, not seriously alarmed by the threat. Huy maintained his dignity until the last of them had disappeared, then he turned and charged towards the doorway of his sleeping quarters.
There was a night lamp burning here also, on a low stool beside his bed. The wick was trimmed low, a soft orange puddle of light which left the farthest reaches of the room in darkness. Beside the lamp stood the cloaked woman. She stood motionless and the face within the hood was completely hidden although Huy thought he caught the sheen of reflected light off watching eyes.
The force of Huy’s charge carried him half across the room, but in the wrong direction. He swung towards her, and at that moment she stooped and snuffed the lamp flame. The room was plunged into darkness, and Huy’s charge ended against the wall. He gathered himself quickly, he was sobering fast now, and he crouched beside the wall listening.
He heard the rustle of cloth, and he pounced. His fingers closed on a hem of the cloak. There was a muted shriek of surprise, and the fold of material was plucked from his fingers. He swore bitterly, and with arms widespread groped like a blind man about the room.
He sensed movements near him, the lightest breathing, the softest stirring in the darkness. He reached out quickly, and his fingers brushed against smooth skin. He recognized the shape of a nude back, and the plump warm bulge of a buttock. A soft chuckle and it was gone again. Huy froze with his heart hammering at his ribs, and his physical arousal making him momentarily dizzy.
Whoever she was, she had discarded the cloak. He was alone with a woman who was elusive as a darting lake pike, and as naked as a newborn babe. Like a stalking leopard he went alter her, stripping his own tunic and breech clout as he went, dropping them carelessly on the floor, until, except for the gold rings in his ears, he was as bare as his own passion.
She was panicky in the darkness now, unable to control the gasps and nervous giggles. And Huy hunted her by ear, closing in on her, driving her into the corner beside the bed.
She nearly escaped again, ducking under his searching hands but one of his long arms whipped around her waist and he lifted her easily. She squealed now, kicking like a captive animal, her fists beating against his face and chest.
He carried her to the thick pile of furs that made up his bed.
Huy woke with a sense of peace, a feeling of deep happiness.
His body seemed softened and enervated, but his mind was clear and sharply focused. The soft pinks of dawn suffused his chamber and the cry of the winging lake birds carried clearly to him.
He raised himself on one elbow and looked down at the girl who slept beside him in the storm-tossed bed. She had cast aside her covering in the warm spring night. Her hair was moist at the temples, and a fine sheen of moisture shone on her softly pouting upper lip. Her eyes were closed, and she slept so lightly that her breathing barely stirred the mass of soft dark hair which lay upon her cheeks.
One arm was thrown over her head, pulling the surprisingly large breasts out of shape. Her breasts were big and full and round for the long slim length of her body, and the tips were still flushed dark red from the loving of the night. Her skin was smooth and pale creamy olive, with violent puffs of black silky hair in her armpits and at the base of her belly.
Huy saw all of this in his first startled glance, before his eyes fastened on her calm and sleeping face.
Incredulously Huy stared at her, all sound locked away in his throat. He felt horror, and awe, and superstitious terror.
