Kushiel's Chosen (71 page)

She flushed unbecomingly, ducking her chin toward her breastbone and replying almost inaudibly. "I am not free to seek employment."

"Freeborn or captive?" I asked sympathetically.

There was a world of sorrow and loss in that single word, and although I never learned more of her story, I grieved for her. I have known servitude, and I have known slavery, too, and there is a difference betwixt the two.
It is one thing to observe the courtesies of rank,
Anafiel Delaunay said to me, the day he bought my marque and took me into his household,
and quite another to treat humans as chattel.
I was sold into servitude as a child; I never fully appreciated the difference until I was a slave in Gunter Arnlaugson's steading. "I am sorry," I said to Chloris, knowing the words to be inadequate.

Well, I thought; I am D'Angeline, I will learn to carry it with grace. And shortly the Archon's servants came bowing to escort me to his side, and thence to the dinner party of the Lady Althaia.

Demetrios Asterius looked long and hard at me when I was ushered into his presence, breaking off at last with a shake of his head. "The Kritian style suits you, my dear Phèdre," he said mildly. "Would you had come here under more auspicious circumstances. Come, then, and let us enjoy ourselves while we may."

It was at once pleasant and strange to be thus entertained. The conversation was witty and lively; so lively I was hard- put to follow it at times, for my Hellene was slower than theirs, and the Kritian accent a trifle strange to my ear. They spoke of light matters; love affairs, theatre, fashion. So it is at such gatherings, and more solemn conversation saved for later. Even so, it was not in my heart to banter thusly, though I concealed it well enough.

"As a
hetaera,
you must surely fall into the former cat egory, my dear," Althaia said sweetly, reclining on the couch she shared with her brother; Timanthes bit his lip, hiding a smile. "How many lovers do you claim?"

"None." I met her disbelieving gaze and shook my head. " 'Tis not the same thing, to take a patron as a lover. For a Servant of Naamah to bestow a lover's token and privileges upon a patron is a great honor, and I have never done it."

"Never?" Demetrios raised his eyebrows. "No husband, no consort, no lover... that is very nearly a crime, I think!" Two lords and one lady near him added laughing agreement.

I inclined my head to him. "Ah, but my lord Archon, you never asked if I had a consort."

"I... ah. Yes." He reflected. "I did. It seemed likely enough, the way he stands at your side and glares at me. So." He sighed. "Not the pirate, then."

"No, my lord." I pictured Joscelin' s face, outraged at the comparison, and smiled to myself. "Not the pirate."

There were six of them, young men and women, and very skilled, executing a complex series of dances in the center of the ring of couches, with tiny bells at their wrists and ankles that marked out an intricate rhythm. I watched them with my mind elsewhere, thinking of Joscelin. I had no right to make any claim on him, no right to name him my consort. Once, he had held that role, but he had abjured it. I remembered his long vigil in the rain-soaked garden, the day I told him I was returning to Naamah's Service. It was true, what I had seen in the
thetalos;
I had wronged and injured him deeply.

After the dancing, the wine went around again, and then dinner was served, course upon course of Kritian delicacies. There was a good deal of seafood, which is excellent there, especially the tender squid served in a sauce of its own inky effluence, although it is unnerving to behold. After the main dishes came a mixed platter of sweet melons and sharp cheeses, which some couch-mates served to each other with their own fingers, and then a delicate ice flavored with almond milk for dessert. I could not imagine how they came by ice in that clime, but the Archon assured me that there is snow on the highest peaks of Kriti in winter, and they freeze great blocks of ice which they hoard throughout the summer in deep, cool cisterns.

When the dinner things were cleared, the slaves came around with the wine once more, and I thanked the young man who poured for me without thinking.

It was the same form of address the masseuse Chloris had used, and one that was strange to me; I sensed Demetrios Asterius' head come up sharply, and felt his measured gaze. "They call you that, do they?"
he
asked me.

I think I knew, then, what his answer would be.

"My lord Archon," I said softly. "If the Kore could have answered me, she would have. I did not come seeking what I have found on Kriti, whether it was destined or no. I ask only for your aid, for ships and men. It is a question for a ruler, and you must answer it thusly."

"So I must." He sighed, then summoned a grin. "On the morrow. For tonight, you are still my guest, and there is entertainment to be had!"

Delaunay told me my asking-price would only rise with time. He was right about that too, and I would willingly trade it all, to have them both alive once more.

And thus did the evening pass, until it was time to leave.

"You have a courtier's skills, my lady," Demetrios Asterius said to me, cupping his hands about my face as we lingered outside Althaia's quarters, his servants and Timan thes waiting patiently. I stood quiet under his touch. "It is as well, I suppose." He raised his dark eyes to Timanthes'. "Will you see her back to her apartment?"

"Don't be. I'll remember it with pleasure." Gathering himself, the Archon grinned. "Timanthes, escort our guest to her quarters, but do not think on dalliance. There are things our friendship cannot endure, and this may be one of them."

"If it can survive my sister, it can survive anything," Ti manthes replied, unperturbed.

We did not have long to wait before we were summoned, and the atmosphere in the throne room was somber.