“Allow me to assist you, dendaya,” the male slave’s voice came, and I turned my head to see him holding a filmy, nearly backless gown of bright yellow, the same sort of gown Aesnil had worn in red. Behind him, on the fur carpeting, stood a pair of soft leather sandals, obviously part of the wardrobe left for my use.
“I have no need of assistance,” I informed the slave, pulling the fur cover up higher toward my chin. “You may leave those things and go, for I prefer dressing alone.”
“Alas, dendaya, I may not obey such a command,” he said, his voice soft and commiserating, his pretty eyes the least bit sad. “Should you come to harm while dressing alone, the skin would be taken from my body in strips, for I have been made responsible for your safety. Come now and allow me to assist you. You have my word that I will be as gentle as you wish.”
He came closer and put the gown on the bed, then crouched to pry the fur out of the double grip I had it in. After all I’d been through with men on that world I wasn’t about to trust him, but he gave me no choice at all. He took the cover and threw it off me,, then began helping me to my feet. I would have much preferred doing it myself, but it turned out to be a good thing he was there. Standing up made me faintly dizzy, and I suddenly found myself leaning against a broad chest, two strong arms circling me gently. The slave’s hands were against my bare back, exceedingly careful of the welts that were still there, his mind bright with deepening interest. I looked up slowly and found his eyes on me, gazing down with the sort of fierceness that made me shiver. Instead of becoming upset the slave smiled, and his hand moved deliberately to stroke my bottom.
“I see you have indeed been a slave to men,” he murmured, desire growing ever stronger in his mind. “Should the Chama Aesnil learn how deeply you were touched, she will feel great insult and have you returned immediately to the position of slave. That you fled slavery at the peril of your life was clear to her the moment she saw you; as she believes she would do the same, she has given you a place of honor in her palace. Do not allow her to know the depths of your feelings, for understanding of the state comes only with experiencing such slavery. It would be to no one’s benefit were you to fall from her good graces.”
His free hand came to my face and his lips lowered to touch mine gently, and then he was reaching past me to retrieve the pretty yellow gown, his mind once again controlling the desire he felt. I wasn’t dizzy any longer but my head still whirled, mostly from what the man had said. I thought “man” rather than “slave,” and the contention was beyond doubt; the man was free no matter what his physical condition, finding no need to drag others down to the level that had been forced on him. We were busy for the next couple of minutes getting me into the gown, but once it was on and he had brought the sandals over to me, I put a hand on his arm.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, trying to let him know I meant it. “I do not even know your name, yet you have my sincere thanks.”
“Thanks are unnecessary.” He smiled, then knelt to put the sandals on my feet. “Here I am called Daldrin, servant to those who hold me captive. It would be idle to speak of that which I was called elsewhere.”
“A man is a man by whatever name,” I said, finding the words trite but the sentiment nevertheless true. “No matter how little their worth, my thanks remain yours, Daldrin.”
“You had best join the Chama now,” Daldrin said, rising to look down at me. “Are you able to walk without assistance?”
“Easily,” I assured him, and proved the point by starting for the wide double doors. He walked beside me until we got there, then opened one of the doors to let me pass through. I walked out without looking back or acknowledging the courtesy, for I’d felt Aesnil’s presence close by and there was no need to look for trouble. Just as I’d suspected, the Chama was watching me closely from a large, carved-wood chair in the wide corridor beyond my door. She smiled faintly at the snub I’d given Daldrin, and rose to her feet as I approached.
“We will talk together as I show you this wing of my palace,” she said, a smile on her face as she touched my arm to indicate the direction in which we would be going. “My time is limited, yet this conversation must be had.”
We moved off along the corridor to the left of my room, but “corridor” would not have been my choice of word as a description of the area. Beyond my room and two or three others like it on both sides of the area was a section of balcony or breezeway, open on both sides to the warmth of the sun and the fresh, lively air. My gown and Aesnil’s rippled gently in the breeze as we walked, and didn’t lie still again until we had passed into another area of rooms. Outward to the left was a magnificent view of the mountains I’d been riding toward, tall and regal and still unbelievably far off. I would have died many times over before reaching those incredible peaks, but I’d been too desperate—or too uncaring—to think about that back at the oasis. To the right was an inner-fortress, I suppose it would have to be called, all stone and blank walls and thin, narrow slits that could scarcely be called windows. The wall seemed to go on and on as we walked, and Aesnil caught me staring at it.
“My inner palace,” she explained, nodding toward the forbidding blankness. “Only certain of my people are allowed within its walls, and of those, fewer still are allowed to leave. It is the final refuge of my family in times of crisis, and has withstood many a siege in its time. Should you have the wisdom I hope to find in you, you will make every effort to keep from entering it.”
I looked at her sharply, feeling the smug satisfaction in her mind at my reaction, then watched her smile grow fangs.
“I wish to have you by my side,” she purred, for all the world like a woman trying to attract a man. “The power you possess is fearsome indeed, and few of those who plot against me will find the courage to face attack from within their own minds. Their fear of me will grow truly great, knowing that with a single gesture I might have you send them groveling to their knees. It will increase my power tremendously, and insure my safety for some time.”
We had stopped in another of the breezeways to face one another, our hair and gowns fluttering this way and that, oblivious to the guards who stood ten feet to either side of us. The woman was totally sure of herself, completely convinced that she had the situation well in hand. I had a feeling she wasn’t wrong, but there were still questions that had to be asked.
“And if I refuse to do as you ask?” I said, feeling considerably less sure of myself than I sounded. “If I should choose instead to continue on my way?”
“Should you agree to my service your life will be filled with pleasure,” she said, brushing at her hair as it fell across her face. “The best of foods, the finest of accommodations, your choice of the male servants to see to your needs. Should you refuse you will be returned to the life of a slave, condemned to give pleasure to my guards, to the vendraa, even to slaves should they want you. Under no circumstances will you be allowed to leave my palace alive—and certainly not if you should be foolish enough to attempt attack upon my person. I have archers stationed well hidden from your sight, who will feather you immediately should I be placed in jeopardy. Is your position now clear to you?”
“Completely,” I answered, turning away from her. “I will consider your request and give my decision in due time.”
“Ah, you feel you must consider your response,” she said, and I could hear the smirk. “You may have until the new sun rises to give me your decision; should you at that time attempt to extend the moment of decision, the decision will then become mine. Now let us continue our walk—to improve your strength.”