Chapter 13, Installment 28

“I wonder if she’d let others in on your dawn training sessions.” Mischa looked hopeful.

“I don’t know.” Rhysa was a little uncomfortable with the way Mischa looked at her. That burning desire was in his eyes, though no sense of immediate threat. “You might ask Elise.”

Astith looked past Tathan at Rhysa. “Is she the one running your morning sessions?”

“No. It’s someone named Daffyd. I’m not sure what his job actually is.”

“Oh, he’s one of the trainers for the House Guard.”

“I wonder if Lady Kasteryn will take a hand in your training,” mused Mischa. “They say she’s very good with all kinds of weapons.” He shook his head in disbelief. “She’s too nice to know violence so well. She’s also pretty enough to have been at least an artist’s model when she was younger.”

Tathan snorted. “You think she’s pretty enough to be one now.”

Mischa started to smile, then his gaze flicked between Astith and Rhysa and he shifted uncomfortably. Astith snickered, and Tathan rolled his eyes. Rhysa guessed this was a common target of teasing for Mischa.

Astith turned her attention to Rhysa. “So you’re to be trained to replace Elise when she’s manumitted?”

“I think so. That’s certainly how things seem to be shaping up.”

Tathan nodded sagely. “I don’t think it’ll be too difficult for you to learn.”

“Oh?”

“You already have the reserve part down pat.”

Rhysa nodded in mock solemnity. Mischa snickered and Astith giggled. Tathan grinned at her.

A slave approached the table then. “There’s a carriage here for you, Rhysa.”

Hiding a smirk at the shocked faces of Tathan and his two friends, Rhysa stood and walked quickly out of the eating hall.

Rhysa approached the House Orb for House Hermestus warily, and with more than a little trepidation. When she placed her hands on the Hermestus House Orb, though, she felt no pain—only a warm tingle as the magic energy passed through her. She saw the magical energy flow from the Orb up one arm and down the other. The magic etched the House Sigil of House Hermestus on her upper left arm while Rhysa watched with interest.

Lord Hermestus began her medical training with anatomy. He was less interested in drilling the names of bones, muscles, nerves, and the like, than he was in making sure she understood how they all worked together. That first day, Rhysa learned about bones: what they’re made of, how they fit together, how they repair themselves. She was glad Lord Hermestus’ lessons were not the last set of the day. As interesting as this might become, it certainly started out as a very dry subject.

When she went to House Amonteus, she was still a little hesitant about being marked by the House Orb, though not actually afraid. Again, she felt the warm tingle as magical energy flowed through her channels. As with House Hermestus, she saw the sigil of House Amonteus being etched into the skin of her right arm. She was now marked as a slave belonging to three Houses, though House Kasteryn most definitely seemed to have the strongest claim, if the size of the mark was any indication.

Rhysa followed Lord Amonteus into a building that seemed to consist of a single, empty room. One wall was lined with mirrors, and there were several doors on the opposite wall. On the far side of the room was another door. In short, it looked like the training hall Lady Kasteryn had shown her. When she mentioned it, Lord Amonteus nodded.

“It is a training hall, though unlike most salles, we will fill the area with various obstacles as you progress through your training. For now, though, we will leave it empty. You have two tasks for today: learn the spell that will hide your markings and walk across this hall without being heard.”

Lord Amonteus walked across the wood floor. Rhysa noticed he did indeed move absolutely silently. She also noticed he didn’t appear to be walking any differently. When he reached the center of the floor, he turned and grinned at her. He produced a blindfold and put it on. Then he held out a hand and a small ball of light appeared above it.

“If I hear you, I will throw this at you based on the sound I hear. If it hits, it will leave a temporary, painless discoloration.”

It took her a couple of hours before she could walk across the floor without getting marked. Lord Amonteus’ hearing was acute, and he could zero in on the smallest sound. Each time he marked her, he told her what he had heard and demonstrated how to avoid that noise. When she finally made it across the floor, he stripped the blindfold off and smiled.

“Well done. It’s not as easy as it sounds, is it?”

Rhysa shook her head. “I thought I could move quietly. I guess there is a large difference between “quiet” and “silent”.”

“True. Now to your second task.”

It didn’t take long for Rhysa to pick up the knack of wrapping an illusion around her arm or across her back to hide the tattoos. When she asked him why it was necessary, he merely replied that since no slave was owned by more than one House, it would be necessary to have only one mark visible at a time.

“And I want you to get used to maintaining it at all times. So when you’re in my House, only my sigil should be showing. Likewise, when you’re at Amelia’s house, only the Kasteryn sigil should be visible at any time. The same goes for displaying Bryn’s sigil while you’re in his house. If any of us sends you on an errand, you should make sure only that sigil is visible. When in doubt, display the Kasteryn sigil.”

Once more, he walked to the center of the room and put the blindfold on. With the added necessity of maintaining the illusion, it took Rhysa another hour or so before she could get to the other side without being marked. Despite the simplicity of the tasks, she was sweating by the time Lord Amonteus dismissed her to Lady Kasteryn’s waiting carriage.

This first day of training had been exhausting; yet when she looked back at it, she found she’d enjoyed it all—even the dry subject of bones. She definitely looked forward to the next day, though she wondered if she could persuade Elise to return the favor of a backrub before bed.

Chapter 13, Installment 27

“Magic is the manipulation of energy,” said Lady Kasteryn. “That energy is latent in everything: you, me, the earth, the air.”

Rhysa and Lady Kasteryn were in Lady Kasteryn’s workroom. Surrounded by thick stones that muffled sound, the room was large enough to hold a circular table with eight chairs around it and still have enough room to move freely. Centered on the table was a transparent sphere, glass or the highest quality quartz crystal. The room resonated somehow, which set up a sympathetic vibration within Rhysa.

“Think of magic energy like water. If you’re in a pool, you can feel the vibrations of something happening on the far side. It’s that kind of traveling vibration that makes magic possible. It allows us to affect things at a distance because we are connected with everything around us through the intervening energy. It is also how we can detect things at a distance or that are unusual in some way.”

“So when I saw my manacles glowing, I was actually seeing the altered energy?”

“Exactly.” Lady Kasteryn sounded pleased.

“So if this energy is pervasive, why can’t everyone do magic?”

“They can.” Lady Kasteryn’s small smile seemed to show she was aware of Rhysa’s surprise. “Some people have an innate grasp of magic while others have to learn how to manipulate it. Those of us who have an innate grasp of magic have channels that allow us to make the energy a part of ourselves. Once the energy is part of us, we can use it much more efficiently than someone who has to learn to manipulate it.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Lady Kasteryn thought for a moment. “When you move, the impulse, strength, and coordination come from within you and it happens without thought, without having to think of each step individually. When you manipulate a puppet, though, you are exerting external control. It is more difficult to make the puppet move in a natural manner. You have to know which strings to pull, in what order, and you have to understand how to time the pulls to create a smooth movement.

“You and I can manipulate magical energy as if it were part of our body. We only have to figure out the movements, and then will those movements to happen. Those who have to learn to manipulate the energy not only have to figure out the movements, but they also must figure out how to make the energy carry out those movements.”

Rhysa thought it must take a long time to learn how to manipulate energy artificially. It sounded like something that would be very difficult. No wonder there weren’t a lot of people using magic, if that was what they had to do. It would be easier to do things by hand. “How many people have channels?”

“Not many with channels wide enough to do any good. Everyone has channels, but for most people the channels aren’t large enough to move a speck of dust. Unless the channel is large enough to produce a measurable effect, we say they don’t have channels; nevertheless, they exist. That’s why it’s possible for two people who do not have channels to produce a child with channels large enough to carry enough energy to measure. Less than one in two hundred have channels of sufficient strength to do any good, and not all of those use their abilities.”

“Why not?”

Lady Kasteryn shrugged. “Sometimes they are afraid of it. But most of those who don’t, simply don’t know they can. It’s difficult to tell if a person has appropriate channels unless magic energy is flowing through them. We can tell, of course, but only by trying to push energy through the channels. It’s kind of like using colored water to find cracks in glass.”
Someone knocked on the workroom door. Lady Kasteryn opened the door; Elise stood outside. She and Lady Kasteryn spoke softly for a second before Elise turned and glided away.

“Elise tells me it’s time for lunch,” apologized Lady Kasteryn. “It’s regrettably easy to lose track of time in this room.”
Rhysa abruptly realized breakfast had been several hours ago. Her day had started before dawn, one of the night duty slaves banging on her door. Rhysa had been put through a series of exercises that seemed like torture. When her legs seemed like water and her arms like noodles, she’d been put through some drills that had her moving in bizarre ways. Her instructor said this routine would last a couple of weeks, and would lay the foundation for her combat training. When she returned to her room, sweating and panting, she was startled to realize she had time to eat breakfast with the rest of the day shift—even after washing up.

“Go ahead and take lunch with the rest. Lord Hermestus will send someone to pick you up.”

Lunch was a cheerful affair. Elise was on duty, but Tathan and his friends were entertaining. He’d noticed her condition when she’d returned to her room before breakfast, and wanted to know what was going on. Rhysa told him how her morning had started off, and his eyes lit with mischief. One of Tathan’s friends, however, seemed interested.

“I know Lady Kasteryn requires her paper pushers to attend some kind of physical fitness activity in the evening,” said Tathan’s friend, Mischa. “But I hadn’t heard of anything like you’re being asked to do—other than professional soldiers.”

Rhysa shrugged. “I hadn’t even heard about the evening sessions until I was dismissed this morning.”

Tathan laughed. “No reason why you should. Most of us here in the hall are assigned fairly active duties. We’re invited and welcome to the evening routines, but most of us don’t need the extra exercise and so we’re not required to attend.”

“Lady Kasteryn likes everyone in her house healthy and fit,” commented someone on the other side of Tathan, a young woman by the name of Astith. “Not that I mind.” She winked at Mischa. “Fit people are nice to look at.” Mischa blushed and turned his attention to his lunch for several bites.

Rhysa nodded absently; she had no interest in physical relationships right now. She pondered Astith’s statement about what Lady Kasteryn wanted of her slaves. Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen anyone who was flabby. Even those slaves who could be considered “bulky” had an energy to their movements that gave subtle hints about their fitness level, as if their mass was more muscle and bone than fat.

“I wonder if she’d let others in on your dawn training sessions.” Mischa looked hopeful.

Chapter 12, Installment 26

Rhysa opened the vial and sniffed cautiously. The scent relaxed her immediately. It reminded her of…something. She could almost see the wall Lord Hermestus had spoken of after he’d examined her. She followed Elise’s prescription as Elise went through drawers of the vanity and rummaged through the wardrobe. By the time Rhysa finished applying the oil, Elise had some small bowls and towels in hand.

Elise handed the bowls to Rhysa. “The large bottle contains almande oil. It’s a good carrier, and it softens the skin. Those vials on the vanity are oils from various plants. Pick two or three you like the scent of. Put a few drops into a bowl of almande oil. I’ll put these towels by the bed. You can use them to wipe your hands if you get too much oil, or you want to switch scents.”

Rhysa turned to the vanity and started sniffing vials. Some she liked, a few she didn’t care for. One gave her a funny feeling behind her stomach she might like to try—though she had a hunch using it tonight would not be a good idea. She picked out two: one with a scent she could only describe as “languorous”, the other had a spicy scent to it. Five drops of the languorous oil and two drops of the spicy oil went into a bowl of almande oil. She stirred, then sniffed, the mixture. She decided it was too weak, and added another five drops and two drops respectively. “How tired are you?”

“I feel more like my brain’s been hung out to dry. My body isn’t particularly tired. I didn’t know you knew how to mix those.”

Rhysa pondered the bowl of scented almande oil and replied absently. “I don’t. I’m just following some hunches linked by very loose reasoning.” She decided if the body wasn’t tired enough to need waking up, better to keep the spice low so as to only clear and relax the mind. She re-stoppered the vials and set them back in place on the vanity. She turned to face Elise who watched with an eyebrow raised, very curious and quite naked.

“I’ve never seen that combination before. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.” Elise rolled onto her stomach, turning her head to one side.

Rhysa placed the bowl of scented oil near Elise’s head. She dipped a couple of fingers into the oil and coated her hands with the slick liquid. Her skin soaked up most of it, so she applied some more to her hands before putting some on Elise’s broad back.

Now that she had time to look, she saw how muscular Elise’s back really was, she felt the layers of muscle as her hands glided across her friend’s back. She also saw it was going to be physically awkward when it came time to work both sides of the back at the same time.

“Hold on,” said Rhysa, and before Elise could say more than, “Hmm?” Rhysa had straddled Elise’s hips. Elise tensed, and Rhysa sensed something besides surprise, but couldn’t place it. “Relax. I’m only getting a better angle on both sides of your back.” Elise relaxed a little. “That’s better. Now….” Rhysa began pressing into Elise’s back in earnest.

She worked her way methodically down Elise’s body, scooting back an inch at a time. She kept going until she neared the feet. Knowing the end of the bed was just behind her, Rhysa stepped off the bed so she could work on Elise’s feet. “I’m done with the back, do you want me to do the front?”

Elise buried her face in her pillow and Rhysa heard only something that sounded like a cross between a sob and a grunt.
“What?”

Elise turned her head to the side. “Yes, but another time. I’m afraid I might fall asleep.”

“Ah, good. I got the mixture right. We can take this up another day, if you want. You’ll probably fall asleep soon. Don’t fight it. You’ll probably feel better than you have in a long time tomorrow morning.”

“How do you know?”

Rhysa shrugged. “I just do. It may be something buried behind that wall you heard about tonight.”

“Huh. There were several things I didn’t understand tonight.” Elise broke off to yawn. “Like how you can look between 16 and a well developed 14, yet be at least 22.”

Rhysa shrugged. “I don’t know. But the Prince said it, and he appears to believe it.” She put the remainder of the oil she’d mixed on the vanity, then looked at Elise. “You can hardly keep your eyes open. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rhysa lay on her bed staring into the darkness. She was unable to sleep, despite being tired. Her mind refused to let go of what she’d seen and heard. Elise was right, there were many thing that didn’t make sense—age was the least of them. Why would she need to be marked by the House Orbs of House Amonteus and House Hermestus, even though she’d already been marked by the House Orb of House Kasteryn? She thought this would risk exposing the fact she’d been bought with pooled money—something technically illegal. Also, why did the prince want her to use his name? “Hallyk” wasn’t even his formal name, it was almost a nickname.

Fortunately, the underlying basics of her disposition were fairly straightforward. She was to be housed at House Kasteryn, except when tasks or training kept her elsewhere. She would be personally tutored by her three owners. She already knew how to read, write, and figure, so they would be teaching her other skills: House management, heraldry and social graces, magic, and the elements of politics. In addition, each of her owners would train her in their specialty. From Lady Kasteryn, she would learn physical combat as well as the combative magics. From Lord Hermestus, she would learn the healing of the body through mundane means as well as through magical means. From Lord Amonteus, she would learn the various arts of deception and detection; a field he called “covertsy”.

Lord Amonteus’ specialty had surprised Rhysa. Of the three, she hadn’t seen him as the kind of person who could deceive, much less would. “I suppose that’s the point,” she murmured out loud.

There were also few things that did make sense, at least to her—the searing pain in her back when she was marked, for instance. Lord Hermestus’ explanations were a bit technical for her, but the underlying idea was easy enough to understand. It had to do with magic channels. Not only did the orb mark a person with the tattoo, it also recorded the “print” of a person’s magic channels. Apparently everyone’s magic channel left a unique print, like a fingerprint. Most people didn’t have much of a channel to begin with, so only a trickle was necessary to get a print.

Lord Hermestus said that to call her magic channels a “channel” was like calling an erupting volcano a campfire. Nonetheless, he continued to use the channel metaphor. Her channels had been dry for so long, debris had started to clog up the pathway. The orb had to send torrents of magical energy through her in order to gain her print. In the process of doing so, it washed away all the debris. The pain was the debris being washed away. She also gathered the more magic that flowed through the person being marked, the larger the mark. Judging from the pain and the size of her mark, her potential was more than a little scary.

She hardly noticed when sleep claimed her.

Chapter 12, Installment 25

It was some hours later when Elise and Rhysa were dismissed. They had stood quietly by while the particulars of Rhysa’s disposition were ironed out. To her surprise, Rhysa found the final results were satisfactory to everyone—including her. Though she had been asked a few questions, she more or less stayed in the background. It was Prince Hallyk, himself, who was her advocate. Advocate indeed, for at times he seemed like a barrister arguing a case for his client. By the time everything was concluded, Rhysa decided she agreed with Lord Amonteus’ initial evaluation. The Prince could be harsh, sometimes, but he was always fair—at least in the sense of maintaining balance. He balanced law against justice, punishment against crime, and politics against economics.

On the stairs to the slaves’ rooms, Elise said in awe, “That man is amazing.” Rhysa could only nod her agreement. Elise looked slyly at Rhysa. “And you. I thought Lady Kasteryn and the rest were going to swallow their tongues when he told you to call him Hallyk. I know I nearly did.”

“Not you.” Rhysa shook her head. “Your mouth was open too far for you to swallow your spit, much less your tongue.”

Elise looked taken aback, then reddened in embarrassment, and finally burst out laughing. “I’m sure I did.”

“Fortunately,” Rhysa continued smugly, “I think no one else noticed.” She paused. “Well…maybe the prince did. I don’t think anything escapes his notice.”

Elise shook her head, still laughing quietly. “It’s certainly been interesting since you arrived. I’m not sure how you do it. You’re not terribly outgoing, nor presumptuous, nor a practical joker. Things just seem to happen around you.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not always a good thing. One of those ‘things’ was getting run down by slavers. And I’m pretty sure something even worse happened shortly before I lost my memories.”

Elise grew serious for a moment. “I know. Everything balances, though, so this may be partial payment on being enslaved.” She smiled, almost shyly. “Anyway. Completely selfishly, I’m glad you were caught.”

Rhysa smiled at her friend. “Yes. It’s turned out far better than I expected. And infinitely more preferable to what I’d feared.”

Elise paused at the bottom of the stairs and gave Rhysa a wistful look. “I know this evening was longer than expected, but could you—I mean…the massage?”

Rhysa laughed. “Sybarite. All right, but we’ll do it in your room.”

“Great. I’ll get some almande oil.” Elise disappeared up the stairs.

Rhysa shook her head. So much had happened. So much had been learned. It was nearly too much. She sincerely hoped every day would not be as packed as today.

She made her way to Elise’s door and, hesitating only slightly, entered. In furniture and layout, Elise’s room was exactly like hers. The differences lay in the details. Elise was not nearly as Spartan or ascetic as Rhysa, but she was tidy. Rhysa looked around the room, trying to understand this friend she’d only known for a few days.

Judging from the small vials of scented oil on the vanity table, Rhysa’s joking “sybarite” was no more than the truth. An extra pair of sandals lay at the foot of the bed. Elise also had a couple of extra pillows, two small tapestries, a small rug, and several candles in holders. Rhysa looked at the tapestries; the one over the bed depicted lovers at their play. The other was odd in this sybaritic nest: it depicted a battle scene. A crowned figure stood alone, but for a single guard. All around were the bodies of the slain, friend and foe alike. It was obviously a last stand—but from history or fantasy, Rhysa couldn’t say.

As she made her way to the back of the room, Rhysa saw something propped in the back corner, hidden by the wardrobe. She lit several candles and placed them around the room, then took one and went to see what was behind the wardrobe. Before she got close, though, the door opened and Elise entered carrying a large bottle in one hand and several towels in the other. She smiled when she saw where Rhysa was looking.

“That’s how I’m earning the money to buy my manumission. I hire myself out as a bodyguard when someone needs a bodyguard who is unobtrusive or unsuspected.”

Rhysa looked at her friend, eyebrows raised.

Elise grinned. “It’s quite true. That’s one reason why I’m often assigned to important guests as body servant. Now that your place has been settled, I’m sure you’ll be getting similar lessons.”

“From who?”

“Lady Kasteryn.”

Rhysa sat on the bed. Collapsed would probably be a better word.

“Oh, she’s quite proficient. That’s her.” Elise pointed to the lone guard in the second tapestry. “That’s where she earned her noble rank. There was a coup that nearly succeeded. Between her magic and her skill with the blade, she saved the king’s life.”

Dazed, Rhysa said, “I think I’m the one who needs a massage.”

Elise chuckled and took a vial from the vanity table and tossed it to Rhysa. “Here. Put some of that on your chest and a little on the back of your neck.”

Rhysa astonished herself first by catching the vial, then by not dropping it in surprise. “What is it?”

“Mainly lavender oil, plus hints of a few others. I put a few drops of that in a hot bath when I’ve had a bad day. The lavender relaxes you, and the rest reminds your body it still has stores of energy it can use. A little trick Lady Hermestus showed me once while I recovered from a training injury.”

Rhysa opened the vial and sniffed cautiously. The scent relaxed her immediately. It reminded her of…something. She could almost see the wall Lord Hermestus had spoken of after he’d examined her. She followed Elise’s prescription as Elise went through drawers of the vanity and rummaged through the wardrobe. By the time Rhysa finished applying the oil, Elise had some small bowls and towels in hand.

Chapter 11, Installment 24

Rhysa handed her a bucket for rinse water, then turned to step into the tub. A sharp gasp and a clatter came from behind. She spun and saw Elise staring at her with shocked eyes and an open mouth, the dropped bucket rolling around her feet.

“What is it?”

“Turn around.” Elise’s voice was faint.

Rhysa gave her an odd look, and slowly turned her back to Elise.

“My god!” whispered Elise. Rhysa jumped at Elise’s light touch at the base of her neck.

“What?” Rhysa started to turn around.

“Hold still,” Elise said absently.

Rhysa did so, and felt Elise’s touch again at the base of her neck. Then again at the base of her spine. Then the point of her left shoulder and again on the right. It was as if Elise traced the lines of something. She felt Elise’s palm between her shoulder blades, as if Elise were providing support.

“I’ve never seen one so large before, except….”

Rhysa interrupted, a little irritated. “What are you talking about?”

Her tone seemed to snap Elise back to reality, and the response was brisk and matter of fact. “Your mark. The slave tattoo. It covers your entire back.”

Rhysa turned to face Elise and blinked. “I thought slave tattoos only appeared on arms or hands. I thought the Orb didn’t mark me because I passed out.”

Elise shook her head. “They can appear anywhere. Arms and hands are the most common, followed by legs and feet. I’ve seen cheeks, chests, stomachs, and even a buttock. But covering the entire back—I’ve never seen that in a slave’s tattoo before.”

Rhysa pondered this for a little while, then shook herself. “Whatever. I need to get clean, and you and Lady Kasteryn need to show me what to do when the prince gets here.” She stepped into the bath.

Sensing they were running out of time, Elise and Rhysa made quick work of Rhysa’s bath, then hurried to their separate rooms to finish getting ready. In her room, Rhysa pulled the tunic up a little and looked over her shoulder to view her reflection in the mirror. Sure enough. She saw the point of a sword and the bottom arc of a slave collar.

She’d just finished brushing her hair when Elise knocked on her door. Together they went up the stairs to meet with Lady Kasteryn and see what she wanted.

What Lady Kasteryn wanted, apparently, was for Rhysa to stand around looking pretty. And to serve drinks. There would be four people in this meeting aside from Rhysa and Elise: Lady Kasteryn, Lord Amonteus, Lord Hermestus, and the prince. Elise was to be the prince’s body servant for as long as he was in House Kasteryn.

The meeting would take place in the book-lined room Rhysa and Lady Kasteryn had breakfasted in the morning of Rhysa’s purchase. Rhysa saw a large sideboard had been added. On top were several decanters of various shapes and sizes. Lady Kasteryn had Elise run through the various beverages and their appropriate glasses with Rhysa. The glasses were stored inside the sideboard.

Rather than risk awkwardly rummaging around in the sideboard during the meeting, Rhysa put two or three glasses by the appropriate decanters. She fiddled with the decanters and glasses to create a nice display. Then she stood at one end of the sideboard and waited to see if anything else needed to be done.

A child of nine or ten burst through the door. “Lady Kasteryn,” he called breathlessly. He caught sight of the Lady and scurried over to where she sat giving Elise some last minute instructions. “Lady Kasteryn, the prince’s carriage was just seen turning onto the street.”

Lady Kasteryn stood. “Thank you, Samme. Go back to your mother, now. Tell her I said you performed your task well.”

Her semi-formal tone helped him pull himself together. He bowed with all the gravity a child that age could muster, and left the room quickly—but not running.

She turned to Elise. “Now, child, let’s go down and meet the prince. Jayse and Bryn should meet us in the entrance hall.” She turned her gaze on Rhysa. “You stay here. We won’t be long.” Rhysa nodded and the two others left.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Rhysa heard familiar voices in the corridor. She glanced around the room one last time, smoothed her tunic, and stood straight just as the door opened. In walked her three owners followed by the prince attended by Elise. When everyone was inside, Rhysa saw the door swing shut without anyone touching it. She also thought she saw a glow come from the doorframe.

The four stood in a curved line in the center of the room facing Rhysa. Elise stood behind and to the right of the Prince, looking as prim and competent as ever.

Lady Kasteryn beckoned. “Come here, child.”

Rhysa sighed with relief: Lady Kasteryn was using her normal voice, not the one she used to impress or intimidate. Rhysa paced her way towards Lady Kasteryn, looking at no one else as she had been instructed. She stopped five feet from Lady Kasteryn and curtsied, bowing her head slightly.

“Rhysa, I’d like you to meet the prince.”

Rhysa immediately turned towards the prince and curtsied deeply, holding it at the bottom, her head bent.

“Very pretty,” he murmured dryly. “Rise, child.”

Rhysa straightened and looked the prince in the eyes—also as instructed.

Lady Kasteryn went on. “Your Highness, this is Rhysa, whom you also bid on. Rhysa, this is Prince….”

“Call me Hallyk.” The prince cut Lady Kasteryn short with a small gesture. From the corner of her eye, Rhysa saw the three nobles give a start, but they quickly recovered their aplomb. In the prince’s eyes, however, she saw the gleam of amusement.

“Yes, your….” Rhysa stopped and swallowed. “Hallyk.”

The prince’s mouth twitched and he nodded his approval, never breaking eye contact. Although she didn’t feel trapped, Rhysa couldn’t look away. He seemed to look into her soul, measuring and weighing her. She would have said the tension in the room was thick enough to cut, but there was no nervousness. Rather, it was the relaxed anticipation one might feel while waiting for a friend to walk on stage for the first time.

He must have finally found what he was looking for; he took a deep breath and smiled warmly at her. She smiled back—hesitantly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the three nobles exchange fleeting glances, but she ignored them. Over his shoulder, Elise’s eyes bulged and her mouth hung open—but Rhysa ignored her friend, too.

He turned to the others. “Very well. I have met her. Shall we get started?” With that abrupt transition, he walked to the nearest chair and relaxed into it. The others broke their paralysis and chose chairs for themselves.

“Would you like anything to drink, Highness?” Lady Kasteryn asked.

Chapter 11, Installment 23

When Lady Kasteryn saw them, she smiled. “Ah, good. Tathan, please make sure there are clean stables and paddock for the prince’s horses to rest in. I know you keep everything clean, but make extra sure of those that will house the Prince’s animals.” Tathan bowed and started to walk away. Lady Kasteryn looked at Rhysa. “And you, my child, are going to help Elise with serving the prince.” Tathan whirled, his mouth open and eyes bugged out. It would have been funny if Rhysa hadn’t felt a heavy, sinking feeling in her gut.

The tableau held for a moment, then Tathan turned back to the stables. Lady Kasteryn seemed to ignore him and gestured for Rhysa to join her as she headed back to the house.

“I wonder what that was about,” she mused when they’d turned a corner.

“Was what about?”

“Tathan’s reaction.”

“Oh. He’d been joking about how maybe the prince had come to see the ‘Incredible Fainting Slave,’ and how I would be summoned for a command appearance.”

Lady Kasteryn gave Rhysa a sharp glance; Rhysa read a hint of concern in that look. Then the expression disappeared and Lady Kasteryn laughed. “He likes teasing people. No wonder he was shocked.”

Rhysa giggled. “His face was certainly interesting to look at.”

Lady Kasteryn nodded and resumed her pleasant neutral expression. “The prince will be here in a little over two hours. I want you ready and presentable in an hour and a half. We need to go over what you’ll be doing.”

“Will Elise actually be there during the meeting?”

Lady Kasteryn nodded calmly. “She knows everything. I told her that first day.”

Rhysa felt a chill. “But the prince said…”

“The prince knows very well that in order to have a successful conspiracy, you need someone among the slaves you trust. There are things a slave can do that would look odd, even for a hired servant to do.”

Rhysa thought about that, then said with as much dryness as she dared, “Anyone else I should know about?”

Lady Kasteryn looked at Rhysa out of the corner of her eye, then smiled briefly. “I think no more will be needed. All the meetings with the prince will be held here. Elise is known to be highly competent, so no one will question that I always choose her to serve the Prince. It is also known she is not too far from manumission, so we will spread the idea you are being trained as her replacement. It is a good thing your weakness seems to have passed. Now go. Prepare yourself.”

Rhysa curtsied, she was getting better at that, and went down to her room. She grabbed a couple of towels, soap, and shampoo, then headed to the bathing area. On the way, she met Elise coming out of her room with her own set of bathing supplies.

“What have you been up to?” Elise was a mess. It looked as if she had rolled around in the dirt, then sweated enough to make the dirt that stayed into mud. It turned out that was more or less what had happened.

“I’d been asked to bring the large brass bowl from the greenhouse. I knocked over a barrel of loam on my way out. I had to take care of that before Sarna arrived. Have you met Sarna?” Rhysa shook her head. “You will eventually. Try to stay on her good side. She has a tongue that would blister paint and a voice that would shatter glass.” Elise shuddered. “She has a terrible temper, but she’s also the best gardener in the city outside the palace. Anyway, that’s how I got all dirty. Since I was already dirty, I offered to do all the heavy lifting in getting the meeting room ready—hence the sweat. And now I need to wash it all off.”

By the time Elise finished her story, they’d each filled a tub with water and Elise had already stripped out of her soiled clothing. Rhysa had only kicked off her sandals and removed her belt when Elise called out. “Can you help me? I’m so dirty, I’ll need help with my hair and back.”

“Sure, if you’ll help me with mine.”

“Bless you.”

Rhysa walked around the privacy screen and saw Elise step into the tub. As Elise sat, Rhysa saw the amount of dirt floating off before actually washing. She sighed. “It’s a good thing we filled two tubs. You’ll need both.” Elise nodded ruefully.

They managed to get the worst off before deciding to switch tubs. Elise stood and pulled the drain plug. As the tub drained, she stepped out and took a bucket, filled it with water, and poured it along the sides of the tub to wash away any dirt that hadn’t gone down the drain. Then she and Rhysa went around the screen to the tub Rhysa had filled; Elise moved carefully to avoid slipping. Using Rhysa’s shoulder to balance, she stepped into the second tub and sat. Now the real cleaning could begin.
Rhysa took a cleaning cloth, soaped it up, and attacked Elise’s back.

“Mmmm. You could do very well as a masseuse.”

“Me?” Rhysa was surprised. “I don’t know a thing about it.”

Elise chuckled. “You’ve already got the basic technique. I’ll tell you what. After we’re dismissed this evening, you give me what you think is a massage and I’ll tell you how you did.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“I’ll take that chance.” Elise very nearly purred.

Rhysa snorted. “Fine. I suppose we could always call Lord Hermestus to come fix you.”

Elise turned her head slightly and looked over her shoulder at Rhysa with an odd look. Rhysa didn’t pay attention to it. “All right. Lean back and get your hair wet.”

Rhysa worked the shampoo into Elise’s hair, and Elise sighed happily. “I’m telling you, Rhysa, I don’t think you need to worry.” After rinsing Elise’s hair, Rhysa went back to the other tub to make sure it was clean and began filling it while Elise quickly finished washing herself.

Elise, wrapped in a towel, walked around the screen just as Rhysa finished filling the tub.

“All right, wench.” Elise grinned at her friend. “Let’s see what you’ve been hiding.”

Rhysa glanced sharply at Elise, saw the humor in her eyes, and snorted. “Hardly hiding. For the past week or two, scarcely a day hasn’t gone past without me being told to strip. Or just having it done for me. After the slave wagon, it’s not like being naked bothers me.”

Elise looked at Rhysa closely to see if she was really as blasé about stripping as she sounded, or if it was a mask. Unable to tell, she went back to joking, keeping a wary eye out for any clues. “Oh-ho! A budding exhibitionist, then.”

“Hardly.” Rhysa’s voice was muffled as she pulled the tunic over her head. “I’m just not embarrassed by being naked. I hardly seek out the opportunity to be so.” She quickly shed her undergarments.

“No reason to be embarrassed at all.” Elise’s voice was soft and impressed, her eyes appreciative. “Honey, you could make a nymph jealous.” She shook her head in admiration. “I’m surprised you don’t have a trail of suitors breaking in your door.” For the first time, Elise saw a darkness pass through her friend—like a shadow on the soul. “Something did happen.”

“No, not at all,” said Rhysa with shallow brightness. “Or at least, yes, something did happen, but it’s not a problem.”

“Uh-huh,” Elise was doubtful, but she didn’t pursue it. “Let’s get you clean.”

Rhysa handed her a bucket for rinse water, then turned to step into the tub. A sharp gasp and a clatter came from behind. She spun and saw Elise staring at her with shocked eyes and an open mouth, the dropped bucket rolling around her feet.

Chapter 11, Installment 22

The next day, Rhysa found she could move slowly but without difficulty. At Lord Hermestus’ urging, she wandered around the house, taking the stairs as often as possible. She made her way to the slaves’ eating hall and had her midday meal with Elise. Rhysa found herself in the center of a circle of empathic concern and curiosity.

“So what happened then?” Elise’s concerned voice was just loud enough to be heard above the general background of cheerful chatter.

“I put my hands on the orb, and suddenly it felt like somebody had put my back on a cooking grill. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before I passed out.” Rhysa shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I’m told it was magical in nature. Anyway, I woke up in one of the gallery guest rooms at the top of the stairs—too weak to move. I spent yesterday and last night in bed.”

“But you’re all right now.” Elise’s voice made it half statement, half question.

Rhysa nodded. “Just a little weak. Lord Hermestus says it is a lack of energy rather than anything muscular. He wants me to walk around today. If I recover enough, I will probably be sleeping in my room tonight.”

“Well, you be careful.”

“I will.” Rhysa looked up as a shadow fell across Elise. It was “young Tathan”. He patted Elise’s shoulder and grinned down at Rhysa. “You’ve caused quite a stir.”

Rhysa cautiously looked into his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Her voice was timid.

His grin slipped a little. “Hey. Don’t worry about it.” He’d toned down his voice, as if speaking to a skittish animal. “It’s quite a change from the ordinary gossip. Lady Kasteryn runs her House well. There’s not usually much to talk about except speculating why someone was a couple minutes late for duty.” His grin returned. “I promise you, you’re a mystery¬—and so you’re very popular right now.”

She finally smiled back, hesitantly at first, but then with more heart when she didn’t see the flash of burning desire she had come to dread—frank and open admiration, but no desire to possess. “I’m glad I appear to be good for something besides being lost or lazing around.”

He chuckled, two short, amused grunts; he looked down at Elise. “Lady Kasteryn sent me to ask you to attend her.”
Elise’s brows knotted. “I’m not on duty for another couple of hours.”

He nodded. “She knows. But she said something about the prince coming.”

Elise’s eyes went wide, then she lunged to her feet. “And you stand there failing to flirt with the new wench?!” Her voice was unstrung and harsh with anxiety. She scrambled over the bench and took a couple hurried steps towards the door before visibly forcing herself to calm down. She turned back to Rhysa. “Sorry to leave you like this,” she said in an abrupt apology and started to turn away. Then she turned back to Rhysa and grinned. “And don’t worry about Tathan here.” She winked. “He’s got a crush on Lord Amonteus.” With that parting shot, Elise bustled off.

Rhysa glanced at Tathan out of the corner of her eye. By his flaming face, she guessed Elise had hit the mark.
“She never said she knew that,” he muttered plaintively to himself.

“Maybe she was saving it up?”

He snorted. “She would.” He paused a few moments. “I wonder why the prince is coming here?”

Rhysa opened her mouth to explain about her three-way purchase and subsequent conditions, then remembered no one was to know of it except those present at the auction. “I don’t know,” she said instead. She gave Tathan a sly look. “Maybe he wants to catch Lord Amonteus when he’s here this afternoon.”

His face turned red again, but he retorted, “And maybe he just wants to see the Incredible Fainting Slave.”

Rhysa thought that probably wasn’t too far from the truth, but kept her response sarcastic. “Oh yes. I’m sure he’s taking time from his schedule just to see a newly purchased slave.”

Tathan grinned and spoke over his shoulder as he walked away. “Sure he is. I expect you’ll be summoned to make a command appearance.”

Rhysa wiped a scowl off her face and hurried after Tathan. She had to get him thinking on another topic. Suddenly, she realized she was keeping up with him—and he wasn’t walking slowly. “Hey! I’m not weak anymore.”

He glanced at her. “Well. That’s one more for Lord Hermestus. Nothing muscular can heal that fast. At least not without a lot of magic.”

“Where are you headed, anyway?”

“I’m returning to the stables. Lady Kasteryn had just returned from a morning ride when she took me off of tack cleaning in order to fetch Elise.”

They exited through a side door and walked towards the back of the house. They turned the corner towards the stables, and saw Lady Kasteryn walking towards them.

When Lady Kasteryn saw them, she smiled. “Ah, good. Tathan, please make sure there are clean stables and paddock for the prince’s horses to rest in. I know you keep everything clean, but make extra sure of those that will house the Prince’s animals.” Tathan bowed and started to walk away. Lady Kasteryn looked at Rhysa. “And you, my child, are going to help Elise with serving the prince.” Tathan whirled, his mouth open and eyes bugged out. It would have been funny if Rhysa hadn’t felt a heavy, sinking feeling in her gut.

Chapter 10, Installment 20

The next day, to her dismay, Rhysa discovered her body had gotten used to no undergarments, even if her mind had not. Just as she finished dressing, she heard a knock on her door. She took an absurd pleasure in unlocking her door before opening it.

Elise stood in the hall, and when she saw Rhysa, she smiled warmly. “I thought I might show you where to get breakfast.”

Rhysa grinned back and placed a hand on her stomach. “I thank you from the bottom of my belly.”

Elise giggled, took one of Rhysa’s arms, and led her up the stairs and through the halls to a room with two long tables. On either side of each table were long benches crowded with people eating. Each table contained fruits and eggs and juice and milk. Elise guided Rhysa to a space large enough to seat two.

Rhysa sat and, following the examples of Elise and the others around her, helped herself to eggs and fruit. She decided she only wanted juice and shook her head when Elise offered her the milk pitcher. Even as Rhysa ate and talked and joked, a small part of her wondered at the change in Elise. Last time she’d seen her, Elise had been cool and prim—professionally kind. Not at all like this young woman who joked and laughed.

Finally, Elise looked at a clock Rhysa had missed when she came in. Elise stood. “It’s about time for me to go on.” She patted Rhysa’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” As Rhysa watched her leave, she saw Elise assume the mantle of grave competence Rhysa had seen the day before. She shook her head at these people who put on and took off various personalities like a cloak. First Lady Kasteryn, now Elise.

A short time later, Rhysa stood at a second story window looking down at the courtyard. Something about the dark and light cobblestones still bothered her, and she was trying to work it out. A soft whisper of fabric made her turn around. Lady Kasteryn stood a couple feet away looking her over.

“Good. Lord Hermestus and Lord Amonteus will be here soon. I want you to wait near the House Orb after you see Lord Amonteus’ sigil. I need to be at the front door to greet them.” Rhysa nodded, and Lady Kasteryn walked away.

Rhysa turned back to the window in time to see the iron gates open to admit a carriage. As it made its way to the front door, Rhysa saw a sword, point downward, entwined by snakes. Lord Hermestus. Before Lord Hermestus had stepped down, another carriage rattled in. Rhysa focused her attention.

The sigil on the carriage door had an odd bird on it. Its head was turned to one side and slightly upward. Its wings were flared so they curved above its head. The plumage on the bird was painted to look like it was made of flames rather than feathers. Clutched horizontally in its talons was a sword. Rhysa noted the talons grasped the blade, not the hilt. There were no chains, so of the three of them, Lady Kasteryn was the only one who had been a slave.

She turned away from the window before Lord Amonteus’ carriage came to a stop, and made her way to the reception hall to stand by the House Orb. As she waited, she pondered what the sigil could mean. He’d done something for the Royals—something dramatic by the character of the bird. The wings bore a certain resemblance to the wings on Lady Kasteryn’s sigil, so he was proclaiming himself a mage.

It wasn’t long before the three mages came through the double doors and made their way to the plinth holding the House Orb. As they approached, Rhysa saw their faces were focused. When they stood next to the Orb, Lady Kasteryn cleared her throat. “We’re sure we want to do it this way? Once it’s done, it can’t be undone.”

Lord Amonteus nodded quickly, and Lord Hermestus wasn’t far behind.

“Very well.” She turned to the House Orb and placed both hands on it. Rhysa couldn’t see any visible changes, though something told her vast amounts of energy flowed through Lady Kasteryn.

“Rhysa, put both hands on the Orb. You’ll feel a burning sensation as the Orb puts the tattoo into your skin. It’ll hurt, but it will pass.”

Rhysa took a deep breath and nodded. She stepped to the House Orb; and placed one hand on the Orb; it felt cool and hard. The surface had the texture of the finest silk. She reached up with the other hand and placed it on the Orb.

Pain seared her back. It seemed to cover everything from the nape of her neck down to the base of her spine, and from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. Her body arched in response. She tried to scream, but pain locked her voice and nothing came out. On and on the pain went. It felt as though someone was etching her bones with molten gold.