“All of the gods?” Drakis smiled at her through the squared openings of the portcullis.
“Well,” she admitted, her small mouth twisting mischievously, “perhaps not all of them-but certainly each of the House gods. You pray to all the gods and you’re bound to offend one of them. So. . are we to be paired?”
Drakis choked slightly. “What? I just came through the gate and. .”
“You said before you left that if the campaign was successful, Lord Timuran would look favorably on mating the two of us,” Mala said matter-of-factly, her eyes taking on a look that Drakis always considered dangerous. “The plunder was brought by the caravan porters yesterday, and you’re here before any of the rest of the Cohort so-you must have honored the House, am I right?”
“Mala,” Drakis said, pulling back a little as he spoke. “I don’t think that’s why we’re here.”
“Oh, but wouldn’t it be wonderful if it were?” she said with a gentle smile. “You, honored by Lord Timuran and the two of us paired? Maybe even ascending to the Sixth Estate. We’d no longer be slaves and could contribute to the Imperium on our own!”
“Yes, it would be wonderful, but I don’t think. .”
“I’m not saying that it will happen, you know that, don’t you, Drakis?”
“Of course, beloved, but. .”
“It’s just that it’s such a wonderful dream.”
Drakis held her hand tightly for a few moments, uncertain what to say as he looked into her eyes. She had a lovely heart-shaped face with a small chin. Her cheekbones gave her face a sharp beauty. Everything about her he found desirable, but it was her eyes in which he always lost his thoughts and his heart to her. How could he tell her that things had gone terribly wrong in the campaign. . that he was not even certain whether he had won the prized crown or not.
“Yes, they are wonderful dreams, Mala-and I’m very pleased to hear that the plunder arrived,” Drakis reluctantly let her go. “The Tribune has sent us back here to present the treasures to. .”
“What is that?” Mala interrupted, pointing toward the somewhat worse-for-wear pile of flamboyant clothing shuffling toward her.
“Oh,” Drakis said. “This is a dwarven fool-in more ways than one, I suspect. He’s part of our spoils. We’ll present him tonight for House Devotions.”
“Greetings, good woman,” Jugar said, bowing as deeply as his restraints would allow. “My new companion, Drakis, has given me only the most glowing reports of your beauty and your sagacious and erudite conversational skills, and I see now that he has portrayed them to me with crystalline accuracy! I am charmed and gratified to make your acquaintance.”
Mala stared at the dwarf.
The dwarf answered her with a broad-toothed smile.
“Does he always talk like this?” Mala said to Drakis from the corner of her mouth.
“Only when he’s quiet,” Drakis sighed.
In the distance above them, a chime sounded twice.
“I must go,” Mala said at once, pulling her hands back through the bars and quickly moving down the sweeping curve of the corridor that led from the chakrilya toward the central garden of the subatria. “Will they pair us tonight? After Devotions?”
Drakis smiled and called after her. “If it is the Emperor’s Will.”
“And why should it not be?” Mala said brightly before dashing down the polished stones on her bare feet. “What should the Emperor have against me?”
Drakis smiled and turned, to find the dwarf gazing up at him thoughtfully.
“You have a problem, dwarf?” Drakis was feeling suddenly annoyed with his diminutive trophy.
“Oh, not at all, not at all,” Jugar replied thoughtfully. “She seems like the absolutely perfect woman.”
“She is perfect,” Drakis said with pride.
“Then I’m very sorry for you,” Jugar said.
“What did you say?”
“Ah, well,” the dwarf continued, “you can’t make a country without cracking a few heads, eh? Perhaps you should tell me something about this ceremony tonight. I wouldn’t want to make a mistake and embarrass you. That reminds me, how are you feeling now, Drakis?
“Fine,” the human shrugged and then stopped.
He did feel fine.
The song was completely gone from his head.
CHAPTER 10
“So how long did they say it would take?” Jugar asked nervously through chattering teeth. The naked dwarf squatted with his back wedged into the corner of the dim room, holding a large, brass ladle firmly in front of his manhood and appearing resolved never to move it. An iron grating overhead allowed square columns of light to fall into the room, casting the dwarf and the human in shadows of stark relief.
Drakis stood naked on the stone platform surrounding the circular trough in the center of the room. Clear water constantly overflowed its edges, splashing down over the stones before falling through a metal grating in the floor. He held his own ladle in one hand, scooping water from the trough and, pouring it over his head, cascading it down his powerful body. He then set the ladle down and picked up a pumice stone from the floor, lightly scraping at the dirt on his broad chest and forearms.
“How long for what?” Drakis asked casually.
“You know for what!” the dwarf’s voice almost broke in his nervous exasperation. “How long before that woman brings our clothes back!”
“Oh, that?” Drakis smiled to himself. He did not know much about dwarves beyond the easiest way to kill them and how they reacted in battle. He had imagined a great many things about them, but being prudish was not one of them. He was finding this fool of a dwarf to be most entertaining. “Essenia said that she would have them cleaned at once and bring them when they were fit to wear-although she appeared to have her doubts about getting your costume presentable. But, then, she had her doubts about you getting presentable either.”
Jugar glowered back at the human in silence for a time, then his features softened slightly. “Wait! Hold still for a moment.”
Drakis turned toward the dwarf. “What is it?”
“Turn back around. . a little more,” the dwarf murmured, his eyes fixed intently on Drakis. “Now lean forward just a little. . there.”
“What are you up to, dwarf?”
“Hold still, please.”
The sound of the water murmured across the silence.
“May I finish now?” Drakis ask impatiently.
“Yes,” the dwarf responded thoughtfully. Several heartbeats passed before he spoke again. “Those scars on your back. . how did you get those?”
Drakis poured another ladle of water over his head, brushing the remaining grains of pumice from his skin as he spoke. “Which scars?”
“Those rather nasty looking scars on your back,” Jugar replied. “Who gave those to you?”
“I’m an Impress Warrior, dwarf,” Drakis scoffed. “We all have scars.”
“So I have observed,” Jugar continued. “But these are particularly nasty looking. I would venture to say that such scars would be most memorable indeed. So, when did you get them?”
Drakis absently reached his right hand around his side, running his fingers along the ridges of his skin. “Why, I. . isn’t that something? I don’t remember.”
“Have you ever seen them?” Jugar said through his still chattering teeth.
“Seen them? Now how would I see them? They’re on my back.”
“You don’t know your own past, Drakis, my friend.” Jugar’s eyes squinted as he considered them. “So perhaps you’ll believe me if I tell you something about your future. Your beloved Lord Timuran has not called you back to gratefully accept your bountiful conquest but to take out his rage on you.”
Drakis set the ladle down slowly, the features of his face hidden in shadows. “That is no prophecy, dwarf. I could have told you that. I will be shamed before him.”