The job was not boring, but it was tiring, hard on the temper, and sometimes dangerous. There was usually at least one difficult customer each night, and as a slave Blade had to tread a very fine line in his dealings with them. If he was too gentle, the man could wreck the house and cost Blade his job. Too rough, and the man might draw his sword at Blade. Then there would also be a mess, perhaps bloodshed, certainly the loss of Blade's job, and perhaps a sentence to the salt flats. A slave had certain rights against a free man in defense of his master's property, but the courts could not always be persuaded to support them.
Blade's size and strength were an asset in this work. He outweighed the average Dahauran by at least twenty pounds, and could pick up many of the house's customers with one hand and disarm them with the other. In his first five weeks at the House of the Night's Tale, Blade never had to draw his sword on a customer.
More dangerous to Blade than the customers was Hadish, the senior guard at the house. Hadish was only a little smaller than Blade, and was all muscle. He had only one ear and one eye, and no liking whatever for Blade. He felt that Blade had been promoted to a position of trust he didn't deserve. What's more, this had been done without Hadish's consent.
«What's Kubin coming to?» Hadish growled once. «Did you ram him so good he wanted to keep you around?»
Blade knew that Hadish often insisted on younger guards in Kubin's service submitting to his attentions before he'd recommend them for promotion. He smiled blandly and shrugged. «I don't know about Kubin, but something's certainly nipping at you. Does it bother you, that you can't get it off with me? I suppose it might, since now you'll have to try the women, and I doubt if any of them will put up with your scars and your stinks.»
Blade had to draw his sword then, at least briefly, to keep Hadish from trying to push him down the basement stairs. After that they weren't quite open enemies-Kubin's discipline was too tight for that. But Blade was aware that he'd better keep his back covered when Hadish was around.
Fortunately, Blade had an ally in the House of the Night's Tale after his first few weeks there. It began just before dawn one morning, when the sky was paling and the breeze through the windows already held the first hints of a scorching hot day. Dahaura wasn't in the desert, but you could never have told it from the daytime temperatures. Everyone who could afford it had a villa or house outside the city, away from the heat, dust, and smells, with trees, grass, and flowing water close at hand.
Blade climbed the stairs to the third-floor loft where he and the other male servants slept. He stepped onto the floor, hearing a board creak under his foot, and turned toward the loft door.
Then suddenly he felt two hands grip him from behind.
Blade realized just in time that the hands were small and soft. He was already turning, one hand on his sword hilt and the other arm doubling up to drive his elbow backward into his attacker's stomach. Then the «attacker» giggled. Slowly Blade turned around, hand still on the sword hilt, and looked down.
The woman giggled again, and looked up. She had to crane her neck to meet Blade's eyes, for she was no more than five feet tall. Blade recognized Esseta, one of the four High Women of the House of the Night's Tale.
The women of Kubin's brothels were seldom entirely what they seemed, but in Esseta's case appearances were more than usually deceiving. She was close to thirty, but showed not a line or a wrinkle. In the dim light of the house where she did her business, she could and often did pass for a girl of seventeen.
It was not only her face and body that could seem to be a girl's. She could adopt all the mannerisms of one, convincing any customer that he was dealing with a green, inexperienced girl, new to her trade, almost innocent. This notion inspired many of her customers to extraordinary performances and extraordinary generosity.
Other men preferred a mature woman, experienced, skilled, and perhaps even comforting. Esseta was able to please them also. In fact, there was hardly a male desire she could not satisfy. She had great skill, no inhibitions, and a cool head.
After twelve years in Kubin's houses, Esseta also had enough money to buy a house of her own and say good-bye forever to his service, or even retired completely. She preferred not to. Women Beyond the Law had a good deal of independence. In that way they were better off than the more respectable wives, daughters, and mothers held «Within the Law,» always under the protection of some man.
On the other hand, a Woman Beyond the Law was still on her own, in a land where men ruled, sometimes with a heavy hand. She didn't have to have a protector, but she often found it helpful to hire one. Esseta was now in effect hiring Kubin Ben Sarif as her protector, and for the price she paid he gave very good protection indeed. If you kept your agreements with Kubin, he would do the same in return, and at much risk and even expense to himself. On the other hand, if you cheated him, then Junah help you!
Esseta giggled again as her eyes met Blade's. He frowned, not quite able to match her lighthearted mood. «I hope you realize how nearly you came to getting knocked flat,» he said quietly. «Grabbing a fighting man from behind that way, in the dark, is not wise.»
«I'm sorry. I thought I could get your attention quietly.» She giggled again.
That giggle was infectious. Blade found it impossible to stay in a bad mood. He smiled at Esseta. «Does that giggle mean that I'm dealing with the girl instead of the woman?»
Suddenly the giggle changed to the full-throated laughter of an adult woman. «Why don't you try finding out for yourself, Blade?» She slipped a hand into his and led him in the opposite direction from the door to the sleeping loft.
With a finger to her lips, she led Blade along a dark passage he'd seen but never explored. It ended in a plain wooden door. Esseta pointed to a carved knob. Blade gripped the knob and heaved. The door slid aside with a faint grating of wood on wood. Beyond lay a square windowless chamber, dimly lit by an oil lamp in an iron bracket on one wall. The light showed dust on the floor, and Blade felt it prickling in his nostrils as his feet kicked it up.
The light also showed a wooden bed, piled with clean but worn quilts and rugs. Blade turned to pull the door shut behind them. He heard a whimper of cloth and another faint giggle as the door thudded home. He turned and saw Esseta standing in the middle of the room: Her robe had fallen into a neat pile at her feet, and she was totally nude.
For a moment Blade felt that his breath was about to stop. In Esseta's five feet there was more beauty than he'd imagined possible in any three women. Every curve flowed into every other curve as if there was only one possible way to do it. Scented oil gave her pale brown skin the sheen of fine bronze. Her hair was a tight cap of dark curls. Both her snub nose and the nipples of her delicate breasts had an impudent upward tilt.
Then her mouth curled up into a smile that was both a girl's and a woman's. She fingered her chin with one hand, resting the other hand on a well-turned hip. Slowly she walked in a circle around Blade. Without the smile on Esseta's face, Blade would have felt unpleasantly like a horse being examined by a particularly skeptical buyer. As it was, he could anticipate what would happen as soon as Esseta had finished her inspection.
At last Esseta came up to Blade from behind, and again her arms went around him and small soft hands pressed against him. He wore nothing but trousers and boots, and her fingers danced up and down his bare chest swiftly, delicately, and precisely. At the same time she brought her face close to his back, until her curls tickled his skin and her lips could caress the line of his backbone.