[Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers (36 page)

BOOK: [Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers
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“Then you intend to sell me?”

“No.”

“Then what’s to become of me?”

“Didn’t you say your father was a peddler?”

“Yes.”

“I’m taking you to a friend who’s a merchant. He may be able to help you.”

“How?”

“That remains to be seen. Whatever happens, you’ll no longer be a slave.”

“You’re setting me free?”

“Yes.”

Yim’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Honus. I’ve yearned to be free again.”

“Then I’m glad,” replied Honus, not looking glad at all.

 

Honus led the way down into the city. The streets had grown crowded, but his grim face and aggressive carriage caused people to avoid him. The route he took soon confused Yim, though she had the impression they were returning to the riverfront. As she trailed behind Honus, her joy at her emancipation subsided when she realized that her fate still remained in Honus’s hands. She knew no one in the city and had no idea where she was headed.

At last, Honus stopped in front of an impressively large stone building. A deep colonnaded arcade ran across its front, sheltering tables that displayed cloth samples. Shoppers and vendors were busily bargaining there. When an agreement was struck, the vendors dispatched a stock boy to procure the order. Honus took the same route as the stock boy and led Yim through a doorway in the center of the arcade. Once inside, they found themselves in a large storeroom, crowded with shelves stacked high with cloth and bustling with activity. The room grew quiet as soon as Honus entered. Speaking to no one in particular, he asked, “Is Commodus in residence?”

A young man nervously approached and bowed. “He is, Karmamatus.”

“Tell him Honus is here.”

“I will at once.” The young man bowed again and sped away, clearly relieved to depart. The activity in the room slowly resumed. A short while later, the young man returned with an older one. By the deference shown to him, Yim guessed the second man was Commodus. He appeared to be in his fifties and his short, dark beard was streaked with gray. His large eyes and broad forehead gave him an intelligent look, while his red, fleshy nose and wide mouth befitted a common tradesman. Apparently aware of the latter impression, he was dressed in a manner to contradict it. He wore a colorful and elaborately pleated robe of gold-embroidered cloth.

Commodus appeared glad to see Honus, but uncertain how to act. He took on the reserved manner of someone greeting a friend at a funeral. Commodus seemed puzzled by Yim, but it was to her that he bowed. “Welcome to my house, Karmamatus. May I offer you and your Sarf some refreshment?”

Yim returned the bow, glad that she could fall back on formality. “Karm sees your generosity. We’d be grateful for some refreshment.”

“Then I’ll show you the way,” replied Commodus. He led them through a doorway in the rear of the storeroom. Beyond it was a corridor that ended with stairs. Commodus led his guests up them into the private apartments on the second floor. There, the utilitarian furnishings gave way to sumptuous ones. Evidently, Commodus was a successful merchant and an extremely wealthy one. He waved off everyone who approached and took Yim and Honus into a richly furnished room with a window overlooking the river. After closing the door, Commodus dropped his formality and embraced Honus. “I never thought I’d see you again, dear, dear friend. Such times! Such dreadful times!”

“It’s good to see you once more,” said Honus, returning the hug.

“Tell me of Theodus.”

“I’ve sad tidings,” said Honus. “He was slain in Lurwic.”

“Each day brings yet another blow! When I saw you had a new Bearer, I feared the worst.”

“This is Yim, and though she’s dressed as a Bearer, she’s not one.”

Commodus regarded Yim with undisguised curiosity.

“It suited my needs to garb her so,” continued Honus. “She has served me faithfully and borne my pack through many perils. She’s the reason I’m here. I’ve come to ask a favor.”

“Anything is yours,” replied Commodus.

“Take Yim under your protection and teach her your trade. I’m certain she’ll prove an asset to your household, for she’s resourceful and has a fine character. Sheltering her would also honor Theodus, whose burden she carried.”

As Commodus listened to Honus, he watched his eyes carefully, causing Yim to suspect that he had the skill to perceive much that was unsaid. When he regarded her again, it was with new appreciation. Then he smiled, and his shrewd eyes turned warm. “You must be worthy indeed, for Honus is never generous with praise. Have you no kin?”

“I’m alone.”

“Then, if it would please you, I’ll become your kin. It would honor me to be your guardian.”

“The honor would be all mine,” replied Yim.

“Then, it’s done,” said Commodus. “Honus, have you just arrived in Bremven? How did you get past the guards?”

“We rode in a wagon and weren’t troubled. Why do you ask? Are Karm’s devotees now unwelcome here?”

“Sarfs make Morvus nervous after…You
do
know what has happened?”

“I’ve visited the temple and tranced there,” said Honus.

“Tranced?
There?

“Yes,” replied Honus in a cold, hard voice. “I know all.” For just an instant, his face betrayed the wrath that Yim had witnessed at the temple.

Commodus caught the look and grew pale. “What will you do?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Honus glanced toward Yim. “Yim carried my pack up Temple Mount this morning despite an injury. I’m sure she’s tired. We shouldn’t neglect her needs while we talk.”

Commodus caught the hint. “Where are my manners?” he said to Yim. “You’re weary and I’m gabbing. You must think poorly of my hospitality.”

“Of course not, sire.”

“Oh, no ‘sire’ for me. ‘Commodus’ will do just fine. You’re family now.” He rang a bell, and a servant entered from a side door. “Jev, this is Yim. She’s my new ward. Treat her as my daughter. She’s tired from her journey and in need of rest. Give her the garden bedroom and have Gurdy tend her.”

Yim knew she was being sent away, however graciously. “Honus…”

He turned to gaze at her. Though he fought to keep his expression neutral, Yim could see turmoil in his eyes. Sensing his inner struggle, she was tempted to probe him and discover its nature. However, she decided not to try in front of Commodus.

Honus approached Yim and delicately stroked her cheek, which was still gritty with ash. “After all you’ve been through, you deserve some peace.” He bent toward her, and for a moment, Yim thought he would kiss her. Instead, he abruptly turned away.

“Are you ready, Mistress?” asked Jev.

“I guess so.”

Still, Yim hesitated, feeling she should say something to Honus. He had walked over to the window and was staring out of it, his back to her. She had the impression that he had just said farewell, yet she was at a loss as to how to reply. The presence of strangers made it all the more difficult. In the end, she simply followed Jev from the room.

 

As Jev led the way down a long corridor, Yim was conscious of the curiosity behind his formality. She knew she was being judged, though she had little idea by what standards. The corridor turned and led to a row of beautifully carved doors. Jev opened one to reveal a large room with a window that overlooked a walled garden. It reminded Yim of her room at Yorn’s manor, though it was far more opulent.

“Perhaps Mistress would care for refreshments and a bath.”

Yim looked down at her legs and sandaled feet. They were blackened from sitting near the pyre. “Just a bath,” she said, somewhat embarrassed. “I’ve already eaten.”

“I’ll see that Gurdy attends to it.”

“Thank you.”

Jev bowed and departed. Left alone, Yim explored the room with wonder. By the window were several walnut chairs featuring delicately carved birds and flowers. A huge bed with a soft feather mattress was carved in the same manner. Upon the bed was a fluffy comforter beneath an embroidered coverlet. Yim walked over to the window to admire its view of the garden, still lovely despite the spring bloom having peaked. The walls of the room were covered with tapestries that depicted the same garden in different seasons. Yim was examining a huge bureau inlaid with mother-of-pearl when someone knocked on the door.

“Mistress,” said a woman’s voice, “your bath is ready. Shall I bring it in?”

“Please.”

The door opened and a young woman entered lugging a big copper tub. She was followed by five men bearing large ewers filled with steaming water. The woman set the tub down and removed some articles from it before the men filled it with water. The men departed, but the woman remained. She bowed toward Yim. “I’m Gurdy, Mistress. I’ll attend you.” She was neatly dressed in a tan tunic that ended just above her knees. Gurdy appeared about Yim’s age and her plain, but pleasant face featured the light complexion, blue eyes, and sandy hair more common among folk from Averen than Bremven.

Gurdy dropped flower petals into the bathwater and stirred them with her hand. The rising steam carried their fragrance throughout the room. After drying her hand on her tunic, she knelt before Yim and began to unfasten her sandals.

“What are you doing?” asked Yim.

“Undressing you for your bath, Mistress.”

“I can do that myself.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Gurdy rose and stepped back, but didn’t leave the room.

“Why are you still here?”

“To bathe you, Mistress.”

“Bathe me? I’ll bathe myself. You can go.”

Gurdy started to leave, then stopped, obviously distressed. When she spoke, she stared nervously at the floor. “Have I done something wrong? Are you displeased with me?”

“No, why?”

“If you’re not displeased with me, why don’t you want me?”

Yim looked at the distraught woman and had an unsettling realization. “You’re a slave, aren’t you?”

“I’m
your
slave, Mistress.”

“I don’t want a slave. I was a…a…I’m unaccustomed to being served.”

“But all fine ladies have slaves,” said Gurdy. “
Please
, give me a chance.”

“You
want
to be my slave?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a lady’s slave. Even though I’m a house slave, I know about serving a mistress. I’ve helped attend ladies before. Just try me, Mistress. Please.”

Gurdy’s plea left Yim perplexed and uncomfortable.
If I don’t accept her, she’ll still be a slave. I’ll be doing her no favor by sending her away.
Yet the thought of having a slave went against Yim’s grain. Meanwhile, the cause of her quandary had assumed an expression of abject humility as she silently awaited her answer. “I’m not a lady,” Yim said at last.

“But you are! Jev said you’re Master’s ward and we’re to treat you like Lady Jobella, Master’s own daughter.”

Yim looked Gurdy in the eye and quickly read her earnestness. She sighed. “So serving me would make you happy?”

Gurdy’s face brightened. “Oh yes, Mistress.”

“Then you may, but you must call me Yim.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do
that
! People would think me rude. They’d be angry with me and think less of you.”

Yim sighed again. “There seems to be a lot of rules about being a lady.”

“You’re new to Bremven, but I can help you, Mistress.”

“I’d be grateful if you did,” said Yim. She undressed and stepped into the warm, scented water.

“Would you like me to wash your back?” asked Gurdy.

“Sure, that would be fine.”

Gurdy grabbed some soap and a washing cloth as Yim leaned forward. Gurdy gasped when she saw Yim’s back. “Mistress! You’re injured!”

“Didn’t you know I traveled with a Sarf? Our journey was hard and dangerous. An arrow did that.”

Gurdy gently washed around the stitched-up wound. “Then, surely the goddess has rewarded your suffering by making you a fine lady.”

Yim didn’t respond, for she was struggling not to cry. The day’s traumatic events had finally overwhelmed her. She was distraught without fully understanding why. In her heart, Yim didn’t believe the goddess had rewarded her. Instead, she feared that she was about to face another trial.

Gurdy sensed Yim’s distress and began to massage her soapy back. “You’ll be happy here, Mistress, I know it. Master Commodus is a good man. Everyone is kind, and you’ll lack for nothing. Don’t worry about your wound. I’ll fetch a healer. You needn’t worry at all. I’ll take care of everything.”

“And what do you get in return? How can serving me make you happy?”

“I’ll get to live your life. I’ll attend you at feasts and eat fine foods. I’ll accompany you on travels and see the sights. I’ll sleep in the comfort of your room. Don’t worry about me, Mistress. I’m happier washing your back than scrubbing floors.”

“Don’t be so certain that living my life will be pleasant. I haven’t found it so.”

“But your life has changed.”

“I hope you’re right.”

In her despondency, Yim became passive. She submitted to Gurdy’s ministrations and allowed the girl to wash her and to dry her also. Afterward, Gurdy tucked her into bed while she went to get clean clothes. Yim lay upon the soft mattress, convinced that she couldn’t possibly rest, and quickly fell asleep.

 

THIRTY-NINE

Y
IM WOKE
in the early afternoon, and for a moment she was unsure where she was. Then she remembered that her journey was over. The luxurious bed she lay upon was her bed, and the young woman sitting by the window was happy to serve her. Sleep had revived her spirits, and the future no longer seemed so bleak. Her vision at Karvakken Pass had steeled her against sights of slaughter, so while the events at the ravaged temple saddened her, she wasn’t shaken to the core. Already, their terror had faded, making Gurdy’s comforting words seem more probable.
Perhaps the goddess has rewarded me, and in this peaceful place I’ll fulfill my destiny.

Yim envisioned what that destiny might be, imagining the child that she would bear restoring the temple and guiding people back to harmony. The more Yim thought upon this version of the future, the more she believed it. Everything fit neatly.
That’s why I was Honus’s slave, so he could bring me here to safety.
Having fulfilled his function, Honus had freed her. Soon he would depart. Yim regretted not having said something when she left him with Commodus. She planned to make amends at dinner.

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