Read Online 06 - Rule of Thieves by C. Greenwood - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: C. Greenwood
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to be about fourteen years old, but I had the impression somehow that her mind was younger still.
Terrac said she would show me where in the keep I was to be quartered and would bring me anything I needed. When he departed, leaving the two of us alone, Eisa wordlessly led me off down the passage. My attempts to strike up conversation with her as we walked were one-sided, for she answered none of my questions. I wasn’t sure whether she was unable to speak or simply unwilling.
The room I was shown to was a small chamber, barely big enough for the narrow bed, stool, and storage chest crowded into it. There was a fireplace and a long slit window looking down onto the courtyard and stables below. It was a plain space but no regular servants’ quarters either. What furnishings existed were durable, and there was the luxury of a single tapestry on the wall. It was drawn back from the window now to let in the sunlight but could be closed on cold nights to keep out the weather.
Most significantly, I had this space to myself in a place where I suspected servants like Eisa were probably packed three or more to a room. In all, my new living arrangements clarified my position here more thoroughly than any conversation with the Praetor. I was being lodged as something above the humblest sort of servant but as less than a guest. This was better than I had expected.
But from the way Eisa wrinkled her nose, it was clear something wasn’t meeting her expectations. She had stood in the doorway, watching silently, as I surveyed the room. I saw now that she looked at my clothing with distaste. Its appearance or its smell, either one, could have been the cause. It had been a long time since I had last bathed in a clean stream or washed out my travel-stained Kersian-style costume. The night spent in a dungeon cell and my recent bloody brawl with the Fists hadn’t helped either.
Eisa made some confusing gestures and left me, returning in a short while with a bucket of water, a sliver of strong-smelling soap, and a washing cloth. She brought a fresh outfit as well and waited for me to remove my old one before departing, carrying the grime-encrusted clothing away with her. I wasn’t sure whether she meant to wash my old things or burn them.
The water was cold but refreshing, and I felt I was washing away not just dirt and sweat but the memory of the filthy dungeon as well. After the bath, I dragged on the black hose and tunic Eisa had left for me. They bore a strong resemblance to the livery I had seen worn by male servants around the keep. Eisa must have noticed I didn’t favor feminine clothing.
Although I put on the rest of it, I rejected the soft-soled shoes in preference for my sturdy boots. I also refused the scarlet half cape that served no apparent purpose except to make its wearer look foolish. Anyway, pairing the scarlet with the black would have put me in the colors of the house of Tarius, worn by the Praetor’s soldiers as well as his servants. I might be sworn to serve the man, but I could still rebel in small ways, such as refusing to wear his colors.
After dressing, I realized how tired I was. I had slept awhile in the dungeon, but it had not been a restful sleep. My bed with its thick blankets suddenly looked inviting, and I sank into it. Accustomed to the firmness of earth, I didn’t usually sleep well in beds. But this time I was too exhausted to care and drifted off easily.
Chapter Six
When I woke, the shadows in the room had grown long and the day filtering through the window-slit was fading. Eisa stood beside my bed, silently staring down on me. Startled at having allowed myself to be crept up on, I was instantly awake.
“What is it, Eisa?” I asked. “Did you want something?”
The mute girl merely indicated a scattering of objects she had arranged on the blankets around me. My heart leapt as I recognized them. My knives, my dragon scale on its chain…. And my bow! It was missing its coarse cover but
Terrac said she would show me where in the keep I was to be quartered and would bring me anything I needed. When he departed, leaving the two of us alone, Eisa wordlessly led me off down the passage. My attempts to strike up conversation with her as we walked were one-sided, for she answered none of my questions. I wasn’t sure whether she was unable to speak or simply unwilling.
The room I was shown to was a small chamber, barely big enough for the narrow bed, stool, and storage chest crowded into it. There was a fireplace and a long slit window looking down onto the courtyard and stables below. It was a plain space but no regular servants’ quarters either. What furnishings existed were durable, and there was the luxury of a single tapestry on the wall. It was drawn back from the window now to let in the sunlight but could be closed on cold nights to keep out the weather.
Most significantly, I had this space to myself in a place where I suspected servants like Eisa were probably packed three or more to a room. In all, my new living arrangements clarified my position here more thoroughly than any conversation with the Praetor. I was being lodged as something above the humblest sort of servant but as less than a guest. This was better than I had expected.
But from the way Eisa wrinkled her nose, it was clear something wasn’t meeting her expectations. She had stood in the doorway, watching silently, as I surveyed the room. I saw now that she looked at my clothing with distaste. Its appearance or its smell, either one, could have been the cause. It had been a long time since I had last bathed in a clean stream or washed out my travel-stained Kersian-style costume. The night spent in a dungeon cell and my recent bloody brawl with the Fists hadn’t helped either.
Eisa made some confusing gestures and left me, returning in a short while with a bucket of water, a sliver of strong-smelling soap, and a washing cloth. She brought a fresh outfit as well and waited for me to remove my old one before departing, carrying the grime-encrusted clothing away with her. I wasn’t sure whether she meant to wash my old things or burn them.
The water was cold but refreshing, and I felt I was washing away not just dirt and sweat but the memory of the filthy dungeon as well. After the bath, I dragged on the black hose and tunic Eisa had left for me. They bore a strong resemblance to the livery I had seen worn by male servants around the keep. Eisa must have noticed I didn’t favor feminine clothing.
Although I put on the rest of it, I rejected the soft-soled shoes in preference for my sturdy boots. I also refused the scarlet half cape that served no apparent purpose except to make its wearer look foolish. Anyway, pairing the scarlet with the black would have put me in the colors of the house of Tarius, worn by the Praetor’s soldiers as well as his servants. I might be sworn to serve the man, but I could still rebel in small ways, such as refusing to wear his colors.
After dressing, I realized how tired I was. I had slept awhile in the dungeon, but it had not been a restful sleep. My bed with its thick blankets suddenly looked inviting, and I sank into it. Accustomed to the firmness of earth, I didn’t usually sleep well in beds. But this time I was too exhausted to care and drifted off easily.
Chapter Six
When I woke, the shadows in the room had grown long and the day filtering through the window-slit was fading. Eisa stood beside my bed, silently staring down on me. Startled at having allowed myself to be crept up on, I was instantly awake.
“What is it, Eisa?” I asked. “Did you want something?”
The mute girl merely indicated a scattering of objects she had arranged on the blankets around me. My heart leapt as I recognized them. My knives, my dragon scale on its chain…. And my bow! It was missing its coarse cover but
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