a camp follower or prostitute. However, if Esk kar succeeded as captain of the guard and took the lead in Orak’s defense, then his status, and hers, would be immeasurable. Though she knew even that feat might not be enough to overcome the stigma of his being both an outsider and a barbarian.
Nonetheless, if Nicar had seen something worthwhile in this man, then she must look for it also. And any place or any owner would prove better than remaining in Nicar’s house, with his disgusting son fondling her at every opportunity. A servant by day, she soon would have passed from father to son to the servants. Even life as this barbarian’s slave would be preferable to that existence.
This one’s lovemaking had surprised her. Her mother had warned her of the first night’s pain, but that had passed in one brief moment, her fear turning to surprise and pleasure. He’d treated her gently, more so than she had expected, and her own reactions to him made her twitch with embarrassment. Trella knew she’d been shameless, and she could still feel the wetness between her legs that brought back the sensations that had spun through her body faster than she could control them.
At last her thoughts slowed and she began to drift off to sleep, thinking about the man in her arms and knowing that tomorrow she would begin a new life as slave to this upstart captain of the guard. It wouldn’t be the life she had foreseen, the one she and her father had discussed often as he trained her. Instead of guiding and helping some wealthy and powerful trader, she now had to help this rough soldier turn back a barbarian invasion, a task that daunted her the more she thought about it.
She was too young for this, halfway into her fourteenth season, but she had to attempt it and hope her father’s teachings would be enough to overcome her inexperience.
Still, even Esk kar admitted that no one had ever driven off barbarians before, so perhaps her new master would listen to her advice. Trella decided she must use all she’d learned and her body as well, to keep him close. He would need her, need her more than he could know, just as Nicar had said.
And if Esk kar succeeded, then only the gods knew what the future could bring for them. There would be much work in the days ahead. Her final thought before she drifted off to sleep was that tomorrow night she would once again be in his bed and his arms, and this time there would be no fear, only pleasure.
3
The pounding on the door woke Esk kar with a start. His hand reached for the sword even as he bolted upright, confused momentarily by the unfamiliar bed and surroundings until he remembered the events of last night. The pounding increased until the door shook on its already loose hinges.
“Gods, cease that noise!” he shouted. “Who is it?”
“Gatus, Captain. Get yourself up. Nicar’s messenger is here.”
“Curse you and all the gods,” he muttered, then raised his voice. “I’m coming.” Esk kar glanced at the tiny window covered with its scrap of leather for a shade. A bright wedge of sunlight slanted onto the dirt floor.
Almost an hour after sunrise. He should’ve been up and about long ago.
Last night’s good food and better lovemaking had let him sleep deeply, and he felt wonderfully refreshed. In fact, he couldn’t remember when he’d last slept so soundly.
Esk kar arose and looked at the empty bed. Trella had vanished, her cloak missing from the peg. Run off, no doubt, after playing me for the fool. But the recollection of the night’s intimacy brought a smile to his face, and a closer look at the bed showed the small stain of blood from her virginity. Well, he had no time for the girl now.
Dressing rapidly, he opened the door, buckling on his short sword as he stepped outside, squinting against the sunlight. Gatus had gone, but two men stood waiting. Esk kar recognized the older one as one of the merchant’s trusted servants. The other, much younger, wore a short sword and must be a guard in Nicar’s pay. The older man’s face plainly showed his impatience.
“What is it?” Esk kar growled. Had Nicar decided to call the whole thing off? Or perhaps demand that his slave be returned?
The servant stepped forward, nodding in the shortest bow possible.
“Nicar sends his greetings and asks that you come to his house tomorrow at midmorning.”
The man waited a moment, then continued when Esk kar said nothing.
“I am to give you this.” He handed over a small leather pouch that jingled pleasantly as Esk kar took it.
“Tell your master that I’ll attend him at that hour.” Deciding he might as well be gracious, he added, “and I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I was up late thinking about the barbarians.”
Mollified, Nicar’s messenger bowed also, more respectfully this time.
He wished Esk kar a good morning, then headed back toward his master’s residence, his escort scrambling behind him.
Esk kar turned toward the guard, leaning on his spear. “Wipe that smile off your face or I’ll rip out your insides.” The man’s smile broadened further before it disappeared.
“And where’s the girl? Did you let her run off in the night while you slept at your post?”
The man’s smile returned. “No, Captain, she went out a little while ago to get food. She told me to let you sleep. She’ll be back shortly.”
Yes, if she wasn’t halfway across the fields. Trella had probably charmed the guard as easily as she’d beguiled him. Curse the gods, he should have told the man to watch her. He’d be the butt of every joke in Orak, the great captain of the guard who couldn’t keep his girl slave even for one day. He kept his grim thoughts to himself as he went first to the latrine, then to the well to wash.
Walking back to his room, he saw smoke coming from the tiny opening that served as a chimney. Inside, he found Trella heating water at the fire that seemed to smoke as much as it burned. An oval of fresh bread lay on the table, scenting the air, with a solitary dark sausage on the room’s single cracked plate.
He gaped like an idiot at the sight of her and couldn’t stop himself from smiling when she turned toward him. She watched him as he sat down at the table before turning her attention back to the blackened and dented copper bowl resting amid the flames. Grasping it with a bit of rag, Trella carried it to the table and poured the warm water into the wooden cup before him.
“Good morning, master,” she said tonelessly as she set the pot on the table.
“I thought you’d run off. When I awoke and saw you gone, I thought you’d slipped away in the night.”
“And what would you do if I had run off?” she asked, her voice still empty of emotion.
“I’d have gone after you, Trella.” He reached across the table and touched her arm, enjoying the feel of her flesh as his thoughts returned to last night.
“You talk with Nicar tomorrow, as everyone knows. How could you chase after me if you were meeting with him?”
“There are more important things to me than Nicar and Orak. If you ever run from me, I’ll come after you.”
A smile appeared briefl y on her face, turning her instantly back into a young girl. She touched his hand.
“I’ll not run away, at least not today,” she said, her voice more pleasant now. “Eat your breakfast, master. You have much to do today, to prepare for your meeting tomorrow.”
“Join me then.” He broke the bread in half, then ripped the sausage in two equal pieces. She carried the pot back to the fire and returned to the table. Picking up the sausage, she took a bite, but returned most of her portion to the plate.
“You’ll have a long day and you’ll need your strength,” Trella said, indicating the meat. “Besides, it’s not fit for the slave to eat as much as the master.”
Esk kar washed down the bread with a mouthful of warm water, then pushed the meat back to her. “Eat, woman. You’ll need your own strength tonight.”
She turned red with embarrassment and looked away.
Women were a great mystery, Esk kar decided. Tearing the skin off your back in the night, then refusing to meet your gaze in the morning. He changed the subject. “How did you pay for this? Did Creta give you some coins before you left?”
“That old cow? She gave me nothing, only took the few things I owned.
No, I just asked the guard where to find food, then went to the street vendor with the best — looking wares.
