Kubin straddled the stool and placed both hands on his knees. «So, desert man. You are now in the service of Kubin Ben Sarif. What do you say to that?»
Blade smiled. «That depends on whether I have permission to speak.»
«You do. In fact, you are ordered to speak when I ask you a question.»
Blade nodded. «I understand. As for what I say to being in your service-I do not know who you are, what you are, or the duties of a slave in your service.»
«You know nothing about me?» Kubin's face was unreadable, but his voice could not entirely conceal his surprise. «How long have you been in Dahaura?» This time his tone held not only surprise, but a slight note of wounded vanity.
Blade did not risk smiling. Instead he shrugged and said evenly, «I crossed the border of Dahaura three days before I was taken by the Desert Riders. Since that time I have had little chance to observe the men of Dahaura and who is important among them. I know that you are a wealthy man-this villa says so. I also know that you are respected and even feared by many in Dahaura-the eyes of the men in the slave market said that. More than this I do not know. That is ignorance, I admit, but it is not my fault.»
Kubin laughed. «You are right about my being respected, feared, and wealthy, and I like it that you have seen all these things. Now I shall end your ignorance.
«I am Kubin Ben Sarif, and I am first among the dealers in women in all Dahaura. In my houses are more than three hundred women, with beauty and skill such that no man who walks the earth cannot find one among them to please him. My business is these women, and all else that is necessary for the prosperity and good order of the houses where they may be found. Much else is necessary beside the flesh of the women. Perhaps you did not realize this.»
«I have heard that this is so,» said Blade. «When one has as many women in one's service as there are soldiers in a company of the Baran's army, one must take much the same care of them.»
Kubin laughed. «Well spoken. Indeed, that is a comparison I have used myself, for I was once a soldier of the Baran. Not he who rules Dahaura now, but his father. I have often asked myself-had I remained in the Baran's service, might I not be a noble and a general now?»
Kubin launched into a long tale, of a promising young soldier who'd hidden certain jewels he'd found on the body of a bandit. With some of the jewels he bought his discharge from the army, with the rest he bought a small house and four lovely women. The house prospered from the work of the women, and so did Kubin Ben Sarif.
He had continued to prosper, with minor interruptions, for twenty-five years.
It took Kubin more than an hour to tell the tale of those years. At first Blade wondered why he was being told so much. Then he realized that Kubin was skipping lightly and discreetly over a good many episodes-such as how so many of his rivals had come to die at times so convenient for him. What Blade was getting was merely the «official» biography.
Still, what Blade was learning was valuable. He'd been close in his guess that Kubin was the local equivalent of a Mafia chief. Certainly it would be wise to treat him as that sort of man-one who would show solid loyalty to faithful servants, and total ruthlessness toward unfaithful ones.
Eventually Kubin ran out of tales to tell and called for beer. The servant brought two cups and two jugs, and on Kubin's signal put one of them within easy reach of Blade.
«Go on,» said Kubin. «No one is watching us to demand that you not drink in the presence of a free man of Dahaura.» He raised his own cup and intoned solemnly, «In the hope of Junah's blessing of a long life without sin and a quick death without pain, I drink.»
Blade filled his own cup, repeated the prayer, and also drank. It was not very good beer, weak and flat, but it was cool and wet. At the moment it seemed one of the most refreshing drinks he'd ever tasted.
Kubin emptied a second cup, then crossed his arms on his chest and looked at Blade. «Doubtless you wonder-what will you be in my service, that you need to know all that I have told you?»
«I can't deny that.»
Kubin laughed. «Very good. It is simple. It was clear to me that you were a man who'd spent most of his life as a free warrior. Am I right?»
«Yes.»
«Good. Many of the others thought the same. They were fools. They saw only how dangerous you might be, and not how useful. I have places for such men as you in my service. There is much that must be done in my houses and elsewhere in my affairs that is best done by a man with a sword in his hands. A strong man, who knows what to do with that sword.»
«Such men are indeed useful, in a business such as yours,» said Blade. «I am pleased that you consider me fit to be one.» That was partly true. Admittedly, Blade would not have freely chosen a job as a combined Mafia bodyguard, hitman, and whorehouse bouncer. But since the job had chosen him, he could live with it better than some. He would have a sword in his hand and a certain amount of freedom of movement. He would not be trapped and defenseless.
«You will not be so pleased if I find that I've made a mistake about you,» said Kubin.
«That is one reason I did not have you trimmed. The trimming knife is something to hold over your head-or over your balls.» He laughed harshly. «Also, most men trimmed at your age do not survive it. I was not going to pay another thirty mahari to have you butchered and lose everything.»
«Then-in my work I will have nothing to do with the women?» said Blade.
Again Kubin laughed. «In your work, no. As for what you do when you are not working-that is your affair. You do not strike me as a lover of boys, and few of my women are lovers of other women. So I do not imagine that you will stay apart from all of them all of the time.
«Just remember, though. If you do anything to make one of the women unfit for her work, you will have me to reckon with. And if you do anything to one that her sisters call an injury, you will have them to deal with.
«If you have a choice, you'd do better to deal with me. The women of my houses are Women Beyond the Law, and they've lived as long as they have by taking no nonsense from any man. Frankly, I'd rather face a trimming knife or even the Baran's executioners than half a dozen of my own women when they're feeling a grievance.»
«I thank you for the warning,» said Blade.
«Thank me by doing everything I think you can do,» said Kubin, rising from the stool. «If you do, I can promise you freedom within three years. If not-«He shrugged. «Junah sends to some men wisdom and to some folly. Who is to know what he shall receive?»
He rang the bell to summon the guards, turned, and strode with massive dignity out of the room.
Chapter 14
Blade's first post in the service of Kubin Ben Sarif was as a guard in the House of the Night's Tale in the Street of the Ox-Drovers. He was on duty all night, twelve solid hours, with a club in his hand and a sword at his belt. He kept the customers moving in and out, quietly if possible, forcibly if necessary. He kept track of the comings and goings of the other servants, with their trays of food, their jugs of beer and wine, their flasks of perfume and their hot towels. The House of the Night's Tale offered every luxury that its customers might ask for, along with the women. It charged accordingly. For a full night with one of the four leading ladies of the house, the charge was thirty mahari-more than the purchase price of some of the serving girls.