by Victor Poole
"There is already a road, a good one," the Thief Lord pointed out. "You came in on it, I believe."
"There is talk of a road made of water," Ajalia said. She waited, and watched the Thief Lord process what she had said.
"Is this so?" he said slowly.
"It is so," Ajalia said. "I see that the implications of such a route are not lost on you. It is for this reason, and this reason alone, that my master has come to Slavithe."
"And gone again," the Thief Lord pointed out acidly.
"His Gods are fickle," Ajalia said firmly. "In the East, to disobey a religious decree is to forfeit your life."
The Thief Lord examined her face; he grunted. She saw that she had convinced him.
"And what does your master want with me?" he asked. His eyes went to the three young women. "Are they all right?" he asked.
"I had a disobedient girl," Ajalia said. "Her hair has been cut."
The Thief Lord nodded. "All right," he said. "All right. You three, you hear? Your mistress will punish you, if you spread secrets."
The three young women cast down their eyes to the floor, their heads bent.
"Your servants are something else," The Thief Lord told Ajalia with a laugh. "I'll have you in my own house, to whip my people into shape."
"Your compliments do not fall on empty ears, my Lord," Ajalia murmured. She bowed her head respectfully; she saw from the corner of her eye the Thief Lord swell a little with pride.
"Your master is a far-seeing man," the Thief Lord said, "but I will have to think over this news."
"I expected nothing less," Ajalia said, bending her head again. "I have orders from my master, and means provided to take up residence in this city for some time, to await your thoughts on this matter. I am authorized to act in my master's behalf."
The Thief Lord looked at Ajalia again, his eyes searching through every layer of her that showed in her face. She kept her eyes level, and her cheeks still. Finally, the Thief Lord nodded.
"You're a rare one, you are," the Thief Lord said. "I wish I had one of you, myself."
"Which brings us, my Lord, to your son," Ajalia said hesitantly. The Thief Lord's head snapped back a little; his eyes narrowed again.
"What of him?" he demanded.
Ajalia studied a wall. She made a show of holding her breath; a gentle glow came into her neck. When the Thief Lord had become thoroughly absorbed in the storm of emotions playing out on her face, she met his eyes. "I find myself interested," she said, "in the situation I find myself in."
"And what situation," he asked, his voice sharp, "is that?"
"I am bound by the decrees of my master," Ajalia said, "to follow the customs of your land. I know it is forbidden for a free man to love a slave. Your son seems to ignore this decree. I fear the consequences of his choice. I must fulfill my master's commands."
The Thief Lord studied Ajalia with all the fervor of a hunting bird of prey. His nose seemed to have turned into a razor; a look of deep cunning was displayed in his eyes. Ajalia was sure that the Thief Lord did not know how nakedly his feelings showed on his face. She had worked away at the layers of deceit that lay over his skin, and now his soul was shown plain.
"The young man is a problem," the Thief Lord murmured. Ajalia saw his eyes take in the attractive sweep of her hair, and the snug layers of her vibrant clothing.
"I would take steps myself," Ajalia said in a low voice, "but again, I fear to offend." She looked the Thief Lord full in the face; he studied her expression, and emitted a short bark of laughter.
"Do what you like," the Thief Lord said. "He's of no use to me."
"The people of Talbos regard him well," Ajalia said quickly. "They may link my name to his. What will become of my trade negotiations in that event?"
The Thief Lord's face grew still. He thought for several seconds, his eyes resting on the twist of Ajalia's leather belt.
"You think far into the future," he observed. "I see you do not shy away from the realities of your position."
"My life is not my own," Ajalia agreed, bowing her eyes.
The Thief Lord shook his head at her with admiration.
"You are a great slave!" he said loudly. "Honestly, if I thought I could get half the loyalty out of my people that your master receives from you, I would enslave the whole city tomorrow."
Ajalia glanced at the three young women before her; they showed no sign, but she thought they would have something to say to this when the Thief Lord was gone. The people of Slavithe had made such a firm point to her, and to the other slaves, that Slavithe was a land without true bondage, that she was surprised to see how openly the Thief Lord discarded the pretense of freedom.
"Do what you like with Delmar," the Thief Lord said finally. "I'll vouch for you if the need arises."
"And I may make use of him as I like?" she asked.
"If you can get my son to do a useful thing," the Thief Lord said firmly, "I will credit the doing of it to your influence. Drive him away to Talbos, or cart him away to the East, it makes no difference to me."
"You have relieved a great burden from my mind," Ajalia said.
"Now," the Thief Lord said quickly, "you must do something for me in return."
CALLES TAKES THREE GIRLS
Ajalia raised her chin slightly; she gazed on the Thief Lord through hooded eyes. She did not trust this man. She thought that he was a snake, rotten to the core. If she thought she could have gotten away with it, she would gladly have stabbed him to the heart where he stood. Perhaps one day, she reflected peaceably, the opportunity would arise. In the meantime, she plastered a pleasant look over her face, and waited patiently. The Thief Lord was eyeing her, his body tilted sideways. He took a half step towards her, and then halted.
"My wife," he began hesitatingly, "was given one of your slaves, as a gift." The Thief Lord stopped; he folded his arms and examined the painting of the Poison Tree for some time.
"Yelin," Ajalia suggested. The Thief Lord nodded and sighed.
"This slave," he said, "is like a thorn in my side. She does not speak our language."
He glared down at the group of young women; Ajalia saw that he wanted them gone.
"I do not wish to contradict you, my Lord," Ajalia said, "but it is very likely that this slave speaks more of your tongue than you think."
The Thief Lord regarded Ajalia thoughtfully.
"You think so?" he asked.
"Many of my master's slaves are often in strange cities," Ajalia said. "They learn to get by."
"You think she understands me?" the Thief Lord asked.
"I would be surprised," Ajalia said frankly, "if Yelin could not perceive your thoughts, however mute she may seem."
The Thief Lord grunted.
"I want something to bargain with," he told Ajalia finally. He settled down on the couch and crossed his legs. "What are some awful secrets about her?"
"My master has sent the remainder of the caravan into Talbos," Ajalia told the Thief Lord. "By this time, they must be just outside the black gates of that city."
The door to the little house opened, and Delmar came in. Leed was trailing behind him, a look of abject misery on his small face. Delmar saw his father before the Thief Lord turned; Ajalia was privy to the expression that crossed over Delmar's features; she had never seen such a complete revolution of feeling in a human face. Delmar had looked like the self he had shown in Talbos when he came in the door; his face had been clear, his eyes sharp. As soon as Delmar had taken in the reclining form of his father, his eyes closed off. They became vague and clouded; his mouth went slack, and the stern brace of his shoulders fell immediately away into a sloping droop.
The Thief Lord turned when he saw the look in Ajalia's eyes; he took in the form of his eldest son, and then the shape of the little boy.
"Which one is that?" the Thief Lord asked Ajalia, hooking a thumb towards Leed.
"He is an orphan," Ajalia lied. "I took him on for charity. His name is Leed."
The Thief Lord stood up. He was not as cheerful as he had seemed moments before. A curious rigidity had come into his spine; his eyes avoided Delmar.
"I'll see you again in a while," the Thief Lord told Ajalia. "I'm not happy about what you've said. Trade with Talbos is severely restricted." His face turned a little towards his son, but he did not look up at Delmar. "The city there is full of deceit," the Thief Lord added as he drew near the door. "The people of Talbos are corrupt and blind. They will attempt to detain your caravan."
Ajalia watched the Thief Lord step past Delmar and into the street. Silence reigned in the front room of the little house as they listened for the slight clapping sounds of the Thief Lord's shoes against the stone road. Ajalia went to the window and leaned out. She watched the retreating back of the ruler of the city, and when he came to the corner, he turned and glanced back at her. She lifted a hand in farewell; his eyes darkened, and he walked away without showing any sign.
"Well," Ajalia said, turning back into the room. "That went well enough."
The three girls began to whisper fervently to each other, their coifed heads making a dusty huddle in the corner.
"Darien's gone," Leed told Ajalia bitterly. "Now I can't get at your money."
"Why is that?" Ajalia asked the boy. Leed emitted a bitter laugh.
"You told me to learn the language from the East," Leed complained. "Now Darien's gone, and I'll never learn."
"Who else speaks the language of the East?" Ajalia asked Leed. Leed glared at her.
"You do," he said.
"Well," Ajalia said. She was examining Delmar, who was staring blankly at the far wall, his jaw slack.
"You aren't going to teach me," Leed said angrily.
"You would have to create an awfully compelling bargain, for me to consider such a waste of my time," Ajalia agreed. She met the boy's eyes for a brief moment, and sent him up the stairs to the other boys. Daniel's face peeked out from the stairs.
"Can I come out now?" Daniel whispered.
Ajalia glanced at Delmar, and at the murmuring young women. She nodded to Daniel, and the Slavithe boy darted to her side.
"Should I make a report?" Daniel asked urgently. Ajalia suppressed a smile. She nodded solemnly.
"The Thief Lord is planning to return to heckle you about the lost caravan," Daniel said, his eyebrows knotted together. "He hates Delmar, because he's jealous, and he doesn't realize that your master was never in the city."
"Sharp boy," Ajalia said.
"He wants to sleep with the slave Yelin, and hopes you will pressure her into cooperating," Daniel added. "And, he's a fool."
"Hush," Ajalia told Daniel. "Never underestimate an evil man. Calling names will put your guard down. He is still the Thief Lord."
"And he does hate me," Delmar said moodily.
"I didn't realize you were awake," Ajalia said sharply. Delmar flinched.
"That wasn't very nice," he said.
"You took a long time," she told him. "Did you get lost on the way?"
Delmar stared at her, a wounded expression in his eyes.
"Why are you being mean to me?" he demanded.
"Anything else?" Ajalia asked Daniel. Daniel reflected for a moment.
"No," Daniel said. He studied Ajalia's feet. "You're planning something."
"Hush," she said. "Go and tell Gull what happened."
Daniel turned without speaking and sprinted up the stairs. Delmar had his tongue stuck into his cheek; he was staring at the three young women in the corner, who were glancing at him as they whispered.
"What are they doing here?" he asked Ajalia.
"Decorations," she told him. "They make a good effect."
"That isn't very nice, either," Delmar complained.
"I have permission to do what I like with you," Ajalia told him with a smile. "Your father has given me his blessing." Delmar's eyes snapped to her face; a wiggle of intelligence showed behind his gaze.
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"I told your father," Ajalia said clearly, "that you wouldn't stop bothering me. He said that I could do what I liked about it, and that he would vouch for my honorable nature."
Delmar stared at Ajalia.
"I don't know what that means," he admitted. "And I might be angry about it."
"Okay," she said. "Did Philas get out all right?"
Delmar's lips pushed together defiantly.
"Philas is fine," he said. "They all got out. Everyone was very pleased. You're welcome for helping," he added viciously.
"I didn't need your help," Ajalia told him. "I needed you to go away."
"Because of my father?" he asked.
"Because," she said, and went up the stairs. Delmar pursued her, shooting a resentful glance at the three young women, who were staring at the pair of them.
"Why are there so many people in the house?" Delmar demanded, pushing up behind Ajalia on the stairs. He lowered his voice. "I thought the house would be emptier," he added. His face was just behind Ajalia's ear; she resisted the pull of his body, which was drawing her backwards towards him. She could feel the heat of his chest just behind her.
"I'm setting up house," she said without turning. "No one looks wealthy without a bevy of servants."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Delmar asked. "I thought I was going to see you more now."
"I guess you would have to move in or something," Ajalia said, "if you wanted to see me." She turned, and looked straight at him. Delmar blushed. "Well?" she asked.
"I couldn't do that," Delmar said hoarsely.
"Why?" Ajalia asked loudly. "Because of your mother?"
"No!" he retorted. "Because of reasons."
"Oh, I see," she said. "Because your father seems to want you out of his house."
"I'm never there anyway," Delmar said. His eyes were drifting unhappily up the walls of the stairwell. Ajalia wanted to kiss him, but she knew that someone would be watching; she would have been watching, if she had been one of her own servants.
"Well," she said crisply, "suit yourself."
Ajalia went up the stairs and into the room where the metal box lay concealed in the mattress. Lim was bent over the bed, a mess of straw about his hands. He looked up at Ajalia when she entered. Lim's eyes were wild and bright.
"Where is it?" Lim demanded.
"How did you get in?" Ajalia asked calmly.
"Window," Lim said gruffly, nodding at the casement. Ajalia nodded, impressed.
"Very well," she said. "What do you want?"
"I want my things," Lim said, his words rasping out of his throat. A purple flush had spread up his cheeks and into his temples. "I want my things," he repeated.
"Is that Lim?" Delmar asked. He had followed Ajalia into the door of the room. Ajalia felt the whisper of Delmar's clothes against her back. Delmar was taller than she had remembered.
"Hello, Delmar," Lim hissed.
"I see you have learned some Slavithe," Ajalia observed. Lim did not reply; his eyes were red with hatred.
"Do you see a lot of each other?" Ajalia asked Delmar, gesturing to Lim. "I forgot you lived in the same house now."
"I'm not there a lot," Delmar admitted.
"Where are my things?" Lim demanded.
"What things?" Delmar asked.
"The things that were in my box," Lim said. He was still keeping his voice low.
"Your master has gone," Ajalia said lightly. "He'll miss you now. You'll be in trouble."
"I want my box," Lim said.
"Your box is right there," Ajalia said. She could feel the knife shifting against her back. She had drawn it on Lim once before, but she thought that he looked far more desperate, and less easy to intimidate than he had been before.
"Where is my wife's blood chain?" Lim asked.
"You have no wife, liar," Ajalia replied. Lim's face grew a darker shade of red.
"Where is it?" he asked.
"Who were you blackmailing with it?" Ajalia asked.
"At least give me my papers," Lim said hoarsely. "I need my papers."
"I left all of your papers where I found them," Ajalia said. She watched with interest as Lim's throat swelled with anger. She watched Lim's body; he was considering attacking her, she could see.
"You could leave out the front door," she told Lim, "like humans do."
Lim snarled at her; his fingers trembled on the edges of the metal box.
"I will count to two," Ajalia said. "If you do not leave, I will tell the Thief Lord."
With a grunt of hideous anger, Lim gripped the metal box to his chest, and swung towards the window.
"Get out," Ajalia told Delmar, pushing him out of the room, and closing the door behind them. A flat clattering noise banged against the door she had just pushed to.
"What was that?" Delmar asked, watching the door with wide eyes.
"Probably a knife," Ajalia said. "He'll be trying to kill me now."
Delmar watched Ajalia as she cautiously opened the door.
"He's gone," she told Delmar, and closed the door again.
"Well, wait," Delmar said urgently. He opened the door and peeked inside. "It was a knife," he told her.
"I already told you that," she said.
"Yes, but it's a knife," Delmar said. He looked strangely moved by the sight of the tiny golden blade. He picked it up, and showed it to Ajalia. It was the same knife that she had left in the metal box.
"Come on," Ajalia said, turning up the stairs.
"Why is he trying to kill you?" Delmar demanded. "Isn't that really dangerous? Shouldn't you tell someone? What if he comes back?"
Ajalia sighed, and took the little knife out of Delmar's hands.
"Doesn't anyone ever try to kill your father?" she asked. Delmar stared at her with wide open eyes.
"No," he said.
"Okay," she said, and went up the stairs.
"But it's really safe here," Delmar insisted, following her again. "No one hurts each other, or tries to steal things, or anything. I mean, there aren't murderers or anything. Lim's really dangerous."
"Lim is about as dangerous as a gooey worm," Ajalia told Delmar. "Your father is dangerous."
