by Victor Poole
"Where are we going?" he asked. She nearly laughed at the sheep-like expression in his face. He looked like a tender lamb that was following its mother. Her soul ached at his innocence. She would not have changed places with Chad for anything, but she envied the simplicity of his mind. He so clearly was not bothered by nearly anything, and Ajalia felt suddenly overwhelmed with the task that lay ahead of her today.
The door to Lim's room was ajar, and she could hear a shuffling inside. "Lim, get out," she shouted. The door banged, and Lim scrambled out. Ajalia could see little jars and boxes clutched in his hands. "Go and get those things off him," she told Chad.
"What?" Chad asked, aghast. "Wasn't that—Isn't he—?"
"He's been fired," Ajalia explained. "For stealing. Go and get those things off of him."
Chad squeezed carefully past Ajalia on the stairs, and ran after Lim. He disappeared around a corner of a landing, and in a few seconds, Ajalia heard a crash and a series of grunts and cries. She waited, and after a while, Chad appeared. His hair was askew, and his face was red.
"Look," Chad said, holding out a bundle of things, "I did it." He was flush with pleasure. Ajalia sent Chad into the room, to put the things back into the closet, and she went up the stairs to the attic. She passed the room where Lim had concealed himself, and she could hear muffled sobs coming from inside.
Ajalia fetched clean clothes, and a jar of black tincture. Her hair had not been refreshed for a long time, and she knew that her natural dark brown was about to poke through the black. She did not care about her hair, but it was part of her role as the face-bearing slave to have well-cut black hair. Her master wore his with the sharp bang, and straight down to his shoulders, and Ajalia put things in her hair to make it look like his. Ajalia did an excellent imitation; strangers often had jarring experiences when they first saw Ajalia near her master; she was like a thinner, shorter version of him. He was not effeminate, but she had captured the trick of his jaw, and his way of holding his head erect and gazing through people, and when she put on the act, she seemed very like him.
Chad was hanging about pointlessly in the landing when she came down the stairs. "Come on," she said. "We have a long day."
"Are we going to kick people out of the houses?" Chad asked eagerly.
"Why are you so excited?" Ajalia asked.
Chad shrugged. "I did two things right today," he said.
"You know," Ajalia said, leading him down the stairs, "You are not as stupid as you let on."
Philas and the boy came in the door as Ajalia reached for it. She stopped, and stared at Philas, and he stared at her. His eyes were clear again, and his face was sober.
"He drank a lot of that stuff," the boy piped up. Ajalia cuffed him upside the head. The boy ran up the stairs, cackling like an evil thing.
"Sorry," she said. Philas grimaced. He looked at the things in her arms. "I have to do my hair," she said. Philas nodded. "Someone should check on the slaves we sent to the stable," she suggested.
"I've taken care of that," Philas said. Ajalia nodded.
"Sorry," she said again. The silk scarves and pieces of clothing were still scattered over room, a dim reminder of the night before.
"Wait for me," Philas said, and he charged up the stairs. Ajalia went outside with Chad, and leaned against the wall of the little house.
"What happened to Lim?" Chad asked.
"Don't ask stupid questions," Ajalia told him. She fingered the packet of papers in her robe. She wanted to make a copy of the papers, and hide them somewhere. "How did Gevad look?" she asked. "Was he pleased?"
"He looked gray," Chad said, "but he was smiling."
"He's plotting again," Ajalia said. "I'll have to do something about that."
"Don't you ever relax?" Chad asked. He was standing a little out in the street, and studying Ajalia's face. His brows were drawn together, and he was squinting.
"No," Ajalia said. "I would probably get killed."
Chad guffawed. "People don't really get killed," he told her. "That only happens in stories."
"When is the next feast day?" Ajalia asked.
"Tomorrow," Chad said. Ajalia jumped up from the wall. "What?" Chad asked. "It's only the Feast of Beautiful Things. Nothing interesting happens."
The feeling of dread that had come into Ajalia's heart the first time she had heard of this festival was back, and this time it throbbed in her chest like an earthquake. She felt that something terrible was about to happen. She opened the door into the house, and looked at the stairs. Philas was nowhere to be seen. She left the door open, and paced up and down in the street.
"What?" Chad asked again. "It's only a feast."
Ajalia took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She opened them, and smiled at Chad.
"What was the feast like, last year?" she asked pleasantly. Chad grinned at her, and leaned against the wall.
"Last year was awful," he said. "Someone had gotten a new piece of the pink stone out of the quarry, and the Thief Lord said it would be offered up at the feast, but then they had to move it—"
"Who had to move it?" Ajalia asked. She kept the urgency out of her voice.
"The people who had cut it," Delmar said. Ajalia shrieked, and jumped. Delmar had come up behind her; she had not heard him. She felt ridiculous. Ajalia did not think of herself as a person who screamed.
"Why are you here again?" she demanded. Delmar cocked his head to one side, like a bird.
"I don't have anything to do," he said. When she did not reply, he went on. "The people who cut the stone had to arrange for it to be hauled up to my father's house, and they had to help haul it, too, because you have to participate in the offering. Then my mother dropped the stone on accident, and there was a big crack up the middle, and the people didn't want it anymore."
Ajalia had a sudden vision of the Thief Lord's wife holding out an elegant finger, and a great crack appearing in a piece of stone when she touched it.
"How did your mother drop it?" Ajalia asked.
"Oh, it was set up as an obelisk," Delmar said, "and she knocked over one of the supports."
Chad and Ajalia looked at Delmar. "She did that on purpose?" Chad asked.
Delmar shrugged. "Possibly," he said. "I don't know. Probably."
"There is a long distance between probably and possibly," Ajalia pointed out. "What happened to the stone?"
"Oh, it got chopped up and used for flagstones in the city square," Delmar said vaguely.
"I heard that you have most of it in your house now," Chad said, without malice. Delmar nodded.
"Some of it is upstairs," he admitted. "I think my mother wanted it for the floor in her dining room."
Ajalia blinked at this news. Neither Delmar nor Chad seemed to think that the Thief Lord's wife breaking and essentially stealing a portion of valuable stone was anything remarkable. Ajalia was not a stranger to corruption and theft, but she had never seen such things done so openly, and with so little outcry from the victims of the theft.
"Delmar," she said, watching the young man closely, "do you think your mother would take my silks as an offering?"
"Oh, she's planning on it, I think," Delmar said. "I heard her talking to our house manager about drapes and things. She wants to redecorate the house."
"I see," Ajalia said. "Has your father said anything?"
"Well, he'd rather do a horse, this year," Delmar said, "because we had the stone last year, and the year before, it was the servant from Dominic."
"You can offer servants?" Ajalia asked.
"Oh, sure," Delmar said. "That's how the wealthy get out of the really bad offerings. They give my mother their best servant, and then my mother can't say a thing, because humans are more valuable than goods. Everyone says so."
A plan began to form in Ajalia's mind. Philas came out of the door, and shut it behind him. Ajalia turned to him.
"This is Delmar," she told Philas. Philas's face reorganized itself, and he examined the sandy-haired young man.
"Hello," Philas said blandly.
"Delmar is telling me about the Feast of Beautiful Things," Ajalia told Philas, "which is tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Philas asked. "Hm."
"Does everyone make an offering?" Ajalia asked.
"Oh, not really," Delmar said. "I mean, they're supposed to, but my father just decides what the city will offer that year, and then one person gives that up. It's better for everyone that way. The people keep their things, and the offering for the whole city is put in the quarry at the end of the year."
"How will I present my offering?" Ajalia asked. Philas came and stood right next to Ajalia. He was not holding her hand, but his large body was between her and Delmar. Delmar did not seem to notice this maneuver. Ajalia began to walk down the street, and the others moved along with her.
AJALIA MEETS THE THIEF LORD
"The offerings are all presented in the main square, in front of the Thief Lord's house," Chad put in. Ajalia frowned at him. She didn't want Chad to draw attention to himself. She wanted him to be discreet, and quiet, and modest, and mostly invisible. She wanted Chad to stay out of her interaction with Delmar. She wanted most of all for Chad to stop staring at her with a gleam in his eye. She had hoped that he would have figured out by now that she was not going to suddenly erupt into flames of love for him, but Chad, apparently, had not realized this. Ajalia could see him turning over plans in his mind; his thoughts were written all over his face, particularly now that Philas and Delmar were standing near Ajalia. She had crossed down the street to one of the public bathing houses that Gevad had told her were temples.
"Could I make an appointment to see your father?" Ajalia asked Delmar. He looked up from the street, and met her eyes. She felt a sudden jolt at the way he was looking at her. She thought that he was looking through her, at her soul. She did not know how to interpret the feeling his eyes stirred up in her. It was as though he was dragging up her real self, all the way up from below her heart, where it was hidden, and bringing her into the sunlight. She did not want to be seen the way that he was seeing her. She did not want to be exposed this way.
"Can I see your father?" she asked again. She reached out without thinking, and grabbed Philas by the hand. She gripped his fingers hard. Philas wiggled his fingers to loosen her grip, and held her hand against his thigh. Ajalia could feel Philas's body, warm and filled with heat; she could feel his breath. Terror was rising up against her throat.
"Hey," Chad snapped at Delmar. "Can she see your father?"
Delmar blinked, and looked away. "I guess so," he said.
"When," Chad asked. "Today?"
"He's in the market at two," Delmar said. "For the signing."
"Fine," Chad said. "Thank you, now go away."
"What else are you doing?" Delmar asked Ajalia wistfully. "I'm not doing anything."
"I'm going to see your father," Ajalia told him. "Now go away."
"Okay," Delmar said sadly. He wandered away.
"What an obnoxious boy," Philas remarked.
"He's stupid," Chad said chattily. "Everyone says so. He spends too much time hanging around in the forest, and he reads old books."
"Who says so?" Ajalia asked. She wanted to take her hand back from Philas, but he was holding her fingers tenderly, and she didn't have the heart to pull away.
"Everyone," Chad said vaguely.
"I have a job for you," Ajalia told Chad.
"I thought we were going to look at all the houses," Chad protested.
"I have more important things to do today," Ajalia said.
"But I want to see them," Chad said. "You keep saying we'll do things, and then we don't do them."
Philas had made a little space within their two hands, and he was tracing the tip of his finger around in Ajalia's palm. She wanted to tell him to stop it, but she didn't want Chad to know that she was holding Philas's hand. Chad was standing on the other side of Philas, and he couldn't see.
"Did you find out about the festival?" Philas asked Ajalia. His voice was deep, and troublingly passionate. There was a sort of ribbing at the very bottom of his words that made Ajalia's heart thump. It was as though he were sending her a private message within the sound of his words, a message that only she could hear. She looked at him, and quickly looked away. She could not face the look in his eyes. She felt as though she were lying to him.
"They're going to steal the silks," Ajalia told Philas. "I have a plan to prevent this."
"It isn't stealing," Chad said. "And they won't take all of them. Probably just one color. Everyone does it."
"You're stupid," Philas said to Chad. Chad's eyebrows jumped up a little.
"I told you he was stupid," Ajalia told Philas. She spoke in the Eastern tongue, and Chad could not understand what she'd said. Philas grinned at the look of irritation on Chad's face.
"I was wrong, and you were right," Philas replied. "The young man is stupid." He also used the slippery Eastern words.
"This is not fair," Chad protested. "I can't understand what you're saying."
"He says it is not fair," Ajalia murmured to Philas in the Eastern language. She smiled, and Chad's face grew red.
"You are being mean," Chad said.
"I have a job for you," Ajalia said in clear Slavithe. Chad's face cleared.
"That's better," he said.
"You need to learn to hide what you're thinking," Ajalia told him.
Chad frowned. "Is that my job?" he asked. Ajalia laughed.
"It won't be long before two," Philas reminded Ajalia, and she nodded.
"Find a way to make Gevad marry Eccsa," she told Chad. Chad stifled a chortle.
"That's impossible," he said.
"Use only words," Ajalia said. "Go."
"Who's Eccsa?" Philas asked.
"I can't do that," Chad complained. "He would never marry a penniless servant. She's in too much debt."
"You'll figure it out," Ajalia said. "Have fun."
"Can I give him anything?" Chad pleaded.
"No," she said.
"Go away," Philas told Chad. Chad wandered away, much in the same way that Delmar had.
"He thinks I'm going to fall in love with him," Ajalia told Philas with a smile. "I can see it in his eyes."
"Too late for him," Philas murmured. He spoke in the language of the East, and Ajalia's heart made an uncomfortable flutter.
"Don't do that," she said.
"Do what?" Philas asked. He was still holding her hand, and the slithery sounds slopped through the air seductively.
"Stop," Ajalia said.
"No," Philas said. She glared at him. He laughed and let go of her hand. "Who's Eccsa?" he asked. "And which one is Gevad?"
"Gevad is the man from whom I have stolen all of these things," Ajalia said. "Eccsa is his mistress."
"I want to kiss you," Philas remarked.
"I'm going to go in here," Ajalia said loudly. She took her hand out of Philas's hand, and went into the bathing house. She heard Philas laughing in the street, and blushed. She told herself that Philas was being unreasonable. She reminded herself that she was not in love with Philas. She told her body to stop being attracted so strongly to Philas. She tried to bring her mind back to the matter of the silks, and the imminent feast day. The feeling of Philas's solid thigh, where he had been pressing the back of her hand to the outside of his leg, kept intruding into her thoughts. She had never thought much about Philas's body, but she was learning now to think of him as a wonderfully muscled specimen. She was sure that he was cheating, and making her like him more than she really did.
When Ajalia emerged from the bath house in fresh clothes, and with wet hair that clung in a rope to her neck, she found Philas there. He looked different. It took her a moment to realize that he had shaved.
"I liked your beard," she said, before she could stop herself. She bit her lip, and frowned. She wished she had not said so.
"We're meeting the Thief Lord," Philas explained. He brushed his fingers
against her cheek, and she flinched away.
"I don't have to be nice to you," she snapped. He watched her eyes. She glanced at him, and he smiled.
"That boy thinks he owns you, doesn't he?" Philas said, as they walked the short distance to the little house. Ajalia did not know if he meant Chad or Delmar. She had a sinking feeling about which one he meant, but she did not want to mention the sandy-haired young man. She wanted to pretend that Delmar did not exist.
"Chad is learning," she said.
"I meant the other one," Philas said. Ajalia felt miserable.
"I don't want to talk about him," she complained.
"Marry me," Philas suggested. "Then he won't be able to get at you."
"I don't see how that would help," Ajalia said. "I really don't."
"I would protect you," Philas said.
"That would not be fair to you," Ajalia said. "You ought to have a nice lady who likes you."
"But you like me," Philas said.
"Well, that is not my fault," Ajalia said angrily. She opened the door to the little house and led the way up the stairs. Philas came along behind her, and Ajalia had the strangest feeling that he was looking at her ardently. "Are you looking at me?" she demanded, whirling around on the stairs. A couple of slaves were passing them on the landing, and they froze, and looked at Philas.
"There's a problem with the silks," Philas told them in the Eastern tongue.
"And stop using that nice language," Ajalia complained. Philas chuckled, and waved the slaves away. The slaves scurried past Ajalia as quickly as they could. She could hear them whispering to each other, but she couldn't hear what they said.
"And now," Ajalia said, stomping up the stairs towards the attic, where she had left her makeup, "the whole house is going to be talking about us."
"They're not," Philas said seriously. "They really aren't. You don't look remotely like a lovelorn woman."
"Well, good," Ajalia snapped, climbing into the attic, and moving aside for Philas, "because I'm not." She closed the entrance to the attic with a snap, and pressed Philas against the wall. He took her by the arms, and put her firmly away from him. "What are you doing now?" she wailed. "This is not fair."