decided. He just needed to do the same at Nicar’s meeting tomorrow.
Carrying her purchases, Trella returned to Esk kar’s room. She sat at the table, enjoying a rare moment of privacy. The events of last night and this morning threatened to overwhelm her.
Sunlight streamed in through the open door, illuminating her new home. Only a few months ago, the stark surroundings would have seemed bleak and wretched, even worse than the tiny, unventilated nook she’d shared with two other girls at Nicar’s house. Now everything within these walls was her responsibility. She had become mistress of Esk kar’s house, if you could call a single room attached to the soldiers’ barracks a house.
Her new duties might be limited, but at least she didn’t have Creta or more senior servants ordering her around. And she’d avoided the distaste-ful fate of having to pleasure first Nicar and then his son and the other servants. She could have accepted being Nicar’s occasional bedmate. He was, after all, the kind of man her father planned for his daughter, though she’d hoped for one closer to her own age. No, Nicar wouldn’t have been a problem. She knew she could have pleased him enough to earn further responsibilities. The troubles in Nicar’s household came from Creta and Nicar’s youngest son, Caldor.
The servants had described their degrading experiences with Caldor, and even now Trella couldn’t repress a shudder. She’d seen him enjoying one of the other slaves, a girl even younger than Trella and barely into the secrets of womanhood. He’d taken her from behind, positioning her on her knees with her head and shoulders on the floor. The poor girl couldn’t stop crying and her sobs echoed throughout the house. But a slave’s tears meant nothing, not even to the other servants. Caldor had prolonged the act, no doubt reveling in the girl’s humiliation as much as her body, while ignoring all those who walked by his room.
Trella wondered what she would have done when Caldor had finally sent for her, told her to remove her dress, and display herself. She shook her head in anger. Like the other girl, Trella would have obeyed, and later cried herself to sleep, comforted by the older women. Slaves did not resist their masters, no matter what they commanded, and pleasuring a master sexually was expected, as routine a task as washing his clothes or serving his food.
She pushed the dark thoughts away. Instead she recalled last night’s lovemaking, and that memory sent a wave of pleasure through her, a pleasant anticipation of tonight’s intimacy. No, whatever this new life brought would be a definite improvement, and she wouldn’t waste any time complaining about her surroundings. Not with so much to do.
A slave’s duty was to please her master, she reminded herself. She’d accomplished more than that last night and today. Esk kar had unburdened himself, confided in her. He’d also offered her a compliment without realizing it. He’d treated her differently, almost as an equal, something she hadn’t enjoyed since her enslavement. More than that, Esk kar respected her ideas. Uneducated he might be, but he knew the truth when he heard it, no matter who spoke it. So that would be her role from now on. Advisor by day, lover by night.
Last night she’d been a frightened virgin and unsure of herself. Tonight would be different, and she’d start learning how to satisfy Esk kar’s desires, how to keep him aroused and hungry for her body. Her mother had warned her about men and their needs, about how they could lose interest in a woman after a few bouts in bed. Fortunately, her mother had instructed her in the mysteries of the love act. With what she had learned, and what she would soon discover, Trella would keep Esk kar close to her.
Nevertheless, she felt her secret places grow warm at the thought of having him inside her tonight. She might be a slave, but she’d become a woman. She determined to make him desire her, to make herself the most important thing in his life.
But right now Trella needed to pay attention to her other duties. She stood and looked around the room, wondering where to start. Esk kar hadn’t given her any commands. He likely wouldn’t have minded if she sat around all day combing her hair and waiting for his return. The chamber was dirty and unkempt, though she doubted Esk kar or the previous owner noticed such things. That meant work to be done. Trella didn’t plan to live in filth.
She went to the door. Adad glanced up, then smiled. For a moment he reminded her of her brother.
“Adad, I’d like you to get me some things.” She found herself speaking in what her father called her “serious voice,” the tone she used when she wanted something.
“What do you need?”
“A broom, a bucket, and some rags. Then I want you to go and buy some mats, plain ones, three, no, four of them, at least this big.” She held her arms wide apart. “Tell the merchant who they’re for, and that I’ll pay him later. Can you do that for me?”
“I’m not supposed to leave you alone. Esk kar told me…”
“I know what he told you. I promise I’ll stay inside until you return.”
He hesitated, then gave in, aware that Esk kar wouldn’t return for some time. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He leaned his spear against the doorway and walked off.
Trella smiled. The soldier obeyed her almost as quickly as if Esk kar had given the command. She went back inside, looked at the bed, and decided she might as well start there.
She dragged the heavy frame away from the wall, revealing a mix of trash and debris accumulated beneath it. A fat brown spider scuttled through the pile, unaccustomed to the light. She frowned at the sight of it. It looked large enough to give a nasty bite. A layer of clean sand might once have covered the dirt floor, but over time the topping had vanished.
What remained looked more like soil from the fields.
Adad returned, carrying a broom in one hand and an empty bucket in the other. “I’ll go get the mats.” He moved off at a trot, anxious about leaving her alone.
Trella took the broom and started sweeping the debris toward the door.
As soon as she finished sweeping and smoothing under the bed, she shoved the heavy pallet back into the corner, grunting with the effort. Then she started on the rest of the floor.
She worked steadily, most of the time on her knees, using her hands to scoop and move whatever objects she encountered, tossing all the pebbles and refuse into the bucket. She used her fingers to strain the mix of sand and dirt, and squashed the occasional insect with the heel of her hand.
By the time Adad returned, she’d cleaned the room. Together they moved the table, then set the mats down, one near the bed, one just inside the entrance, and the other two under the table and its rickety benches.
Smoothing the dirt, she made sure the mats lay flat, with no lumps underneath.
Finished at last, Trella examined the room. It looked as clean as she could make it on such short notice, and at least tonight there would be no scraps of food or bits of bone to attract bugs or mice. On her next visit to the market, a copper coin would purchase a cartload of clean sand, enough to re — cover the dirt.
If this were to be their home, she’d have the inner walls recoated with fresh mud, then smoothed and whitewashed. That might get rid of the stale odors that lingered within. That reminded her of the mattress. Only the gods knew when it had last been changed. She’d have that refilled with fresh straw, too.
She looked down at herself and laughed. Covered with dust and grime, she thought half the dirt from the floor now covered her body. She needed a bath. Taking her cloak, she tossed it over her arm, then gathered up the garments purchased earlier and the greasy rag she’d used at the fi re. Bundling them together, she set out toward the river. Adad fell in behind her and had to stretch his legs to keep up with her rapid pace.
Trella enjoyed her newfound freedom. The guard actually made things easier, since she could now go wherever she chose and feel perfectly safe.
She knew the way to the river, and it didn’t take long to reach Orak’s rear gate. They passed through and headed to the left, moving quickly through the crowd. Trella kept a step ahead of Adad, and this time no one noticed her. They passed the jetties where men worked the boats, and soon reached the start of the women’s area, fringed by a few willow trees that lined the riverbank.
“Wait here, Adad. I need to wash Esk kar’s clothes and bathe myself.
Please hold my cloak.”
Adad looked uncomfortable, but complied. By custom, men did not venture too close to the women’s bathing place, though often enough boys or men took their time passing by, laughing and staring at the women.
Trella went to the riverbank, then climbed down to the rocky bank. This late in the day only three people labored there, washing clothes. An elderly matron and her granddaughter seemed to spend more time splashing than cleaning. The remaining woman looked only a few years older than Trella.
A glance back toward Adad showed him standing where she’d left him, about fifty paces away. She took a few steps into the river and ducked beneath the cool water, letting it flow over her entire body. When she came up
