He reached past my shoulder for a bowl on the tray, brought it back, then began feeding me. Though I really did need food at that point, I barely noticed that the dish was that thick cereal grain mixed with dried and sweetened fruit. Dallan was feeling a good deal of pleasure from being held by me, and even his muted, controlled emotions were helping to make me dizzy and more than uncomfortable. My bottom rested on his bare thighs, my arms and hands touched his sides and back, his arm movements caused his chest to rub against mine; before very many minutes had passed, I was reduced to squirming. Dallan the free man chuckled heartily at that, and did nothing about it but continued to feed me.
By the time the food was all down my throat, I was well on the way to being intimidated. Dallan continued to feel pleasure from the way our bodies touched, but despite the growing frustration and desperation I could feel within me, his emotions and bodily urgings remained easily under his control. In spite of the fact that Rimilian men rarely denied themselves anything, they seemed to be capable of the most cold-blooded self-denial I had ever seen—when it suited them. For some reason it suited Dallan to refrain from touching me any further, most likely because of the punishment he had spoken of. I was being punished for not obeying him to his satisfaction, and in a way I had not expected. The worst part of it was that I didn’t know how long he would leave me like that, and the uncertainty was making my mind and body more anxious to obey him no matter what my intellect thought about it.
Once my feeding was over, I was made to stand up so that Dallan might do the same. I was beyond knowing what to expect next, so his taking my arm and starting for the door came as a surprise. We were nearly there before I gasped and tried to pull back, wasting the time and effort, but happily I’d been mistaken regarding his intention. He wasn’t dragging me naked into a public corridor as I’d thought when I saw the door, but into the next room of what later proved to be a suite of rooms. The next room was a bathing chamber, more pleasant than Aesnil’s in that it had windows, and once we were through the doorway, my captor stopped to look down at me.
“These serving wendaa will see that you are properly bathed,” he said, indicating the three women in the room. “Obey them without complaint, for they have already been made aware of my wishes. I will await you within the inner chamber.”
He gave my bottom a smack to send me forward another step or two, then turned and went back into the room we’d come out of, closing the door behind him. I looked again at the three women waiting for me, seeing that they’d risen from the nest of cushions they’d been sitting among. None of them was the size of the men of that world, but all three of them were considerably larger than I, broad, solid women who were shapely enough, but thick rather than slender. They wore imadd and caldinn, the long-sleeved blouses and ankle-length skirts that most Rimilian woman wore, but rather than being brightly colored, theirs were solid white. They all had their long blond hair twisted close and tied back short, and even as I watched they untied the leather ties of their sleeves and pushed the slit sleeves back behind them, then tied one leather tie of each sleeve together at the back of their waists. Their arms were then both bare and free, and the sleeves were completely out of the way. It was fairly clear the women were not slaves, but they were looking at me as though I might be. I could feel my body stiffening in resentment at their appraisal, but that only amused them. In their own minds, they knew they were comfortably dressed and I wasn’t.
“Come, weerees, and let us see to you,” one of the three said, beginning to lead the other two toward me. “The drin Dallan would have you clean and sweet-smelling for his pleasure, and so shall he have, you. Has he used you as yet?”
“What business is that of yours?” I snapped, outraged by her question and deeply stung by the name she’d called me. Weerees meant adorable little girl or cuddly toy, and was a pet name for a child—or an insult for a grown woman. I felt insulted, but there was nothing I could do about it.
“I do not ask for my own amusement, weerees,” the woman answered, stopping before me to look down into my eyes with an insolent twinkle in hers. “Should it be that he has not yet used you, we will take care not to tread too heavily upon your . . . sensibilities. ”
The other two joined the first one in laughter, all three of them getting a great deal of amusement out of embarrassing me; the one thing I didn’t understand was why they were doing it. They didn’t hate me, they didn’t even really dislike me; they just felt terribly superior for some reason I couldn’t even begin to guess at. I looked up at the three plainly pretty faces, knowing they were partially laughing at the blush on my cheeks, and tried to hold my head up higher.
“What sensibilities I had have long since been trodden upon,” I told them, my voice as cold as I could make it. “Should you feel the need to add your own touches to the general effort, I am unable to deny you. I shall merely continue in my refusal to be cowed. ”
I thought my speech sounded rather brave and noble, but the burst of renewed laughter from the women showed it didn’t hit them the same way. Their amusement was gleeful and anticipatory yet totally without malice, and I just didn’t understand it! My hands curled into fists as I stamped my foot, but I didn’t get a chance to demand that they explain what they were laughing at. The woman in front of me gestured, and the other two put their hands on my arms.
“I am pleased to hear that you will not be cowed.” The woman chuckled, looking me over in a very insolent way. “In that event, we need not be overly cautious in our handling of you. Bring her to the bath.”
She turned and began leading the way across the room then, the other two pulling me along between them. This room was nearly as large as the first, with silk hung marble walls and clean marble ceiling, but only half the floor was covered with fur carpeting. The covered half was near the windows, and contained the nest of multicolored cushions the three women had been sitting among. The other half of the floor was bare marble, and held the bathing pool the women were taking me toward. The pool itself was two-sectioned and oval in shape, the larger part of the oval suitable for paddling around in, the narrower left-hand end shallow enough for soaking and washing. The two women holding me followed the third to the shallow end, ignoring the way I tried to struggle loose, doing no more than tightening their grips automatically. Their minds dismissed my displeasure as though I were a small child, unimportant and therefore ignorable. Truthfully I felt like a small child among those three, especially when I was peremptorily manhandled over the edge of the pool and into the water.
“We shall see to it that you shine for the drin, weerees,” the first woman said, watching as I was plunked down into a sitting position amidst a large splash. “It is the least we may do for one so backward as to intend defying a l’lenda. When he has done with you, you may look back upon our kindness with keen memory and longing, for he, himself, will find little kindness for you. ”
She nodded to the other two, then got to her knees beside the pool to add her share of help. I kicked and struggled as I was dunked entirely under the water, came up spluttering and shaking water out of my eyes, then tried yelling when they began to soap me. The first woman used two hands, the others one each, and all my screaming and struggling didn’t stop them from spreading the slick, perfumy liquid soap all over me. Somehow the humiliation of that bath was worse than what I’d felt when bathed by the male bedinn of the Hamarda, the male slaves of the desert tribe I’d been held by. The slaves had been rough and uncaring, but those women . . . ! It was as though I were a small child placed in their care, one whose tantrums weren’t to be noticed or given in to. Their amusement continued as long as the bath did, but it didn’t interfere with the efficiency of their efforts.