The Complete Krondor’s Sons 2-Book Collection. Raymond E. Feist

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СКАЧАТЬ depart. The Empress, blessings be upon her, has ordered it so.’

      James smiled and inclined his head. So, he’s our watchdog.

      Gamina smiled at those nearby and said, Among many, I’m sure, beloved.

      James turned his attention to the front of the company, where Erland followed the Imperial welcoming delegation. His wits and talents might be tested in the next two and a half months, he knew. And he had but two basic tasks: keep Erland alive and the Kingdom out of war.

      Erland was almost incapable of words. His ‘apartment’ was a six-room complex set off in the ‘wing’ of the palace set aside for them, which itself was nearly as large as his father’s palace in Krondor. The Imperial palace was indeed a city unto itself. And the guest apartments were opulent beyond imagining. The stone walls had all been faced with marble, polished to a brilliance that reflected back torchlight like the sparkle of a thousand jewels. Rather than the Kingdom fashion of many small rooms, all the rooms in the apartment were large, but able to be partitioned by hanging curtains of varying opacity. Right now, the only curtains were to his right and left, and both were transparent gauze, allowing him to see that divans and chairs were arrayed in anticipation of his need for holding conferences. And at his left, a large terrace permitted a stunning view of the Overn Deep, the gigantic freshwater lake that was the heart of this Empire. The sleeping chamber lay just beyond a pair of doors in this, the audience chamber, where he could meet with his advisors if needed.

      Erland signalled one of his two guards, detailed to act as servants, to open the large door. Before they could react, a young woman appeared at his side. ‘M’lord,’ she said, clapping her hands loudly, once.

      The doors swung open and Erland nodded absently as he stepped through to what was his sleeping chamber. The Prince halted at the sight which greeted him. Everywhere he glanced, he saw gold. It was used on the tables and divans, stools and chairs that were arrayed around the room, for whatever needs he might have while dressing, composing messages, or eating a solitary meal. High upon the wall, the marble ceased and was replaced by sandstone, upon which murals of bright colour had been painted against the muted ochre of the sandstone. In the stylized Keshian fashion, they showed warriors, kings, and gods, many depicted with animal heads, as the Keshians gave aspects to the gods that differed markedly from how they were perceived in the Kingdom.

      Erland stood silently taking in the splendour of the room. A giant bed dominated the chamber, surrounded on three sides by gauzy silk curtains, hanging from a ceiling twenty feet above his head. The bed was twice the size of his own large bed at home, which had seemed immense when he and Borric had returned from their service with Lord Highcastle, given what they had been used to sleeping on, the narrow cots of Highcastle’s barracks.

      Thinking about Borric made Erland wistful for a moment, as he wished he could share his astonishment with his brother. For a countless time again since the attack, Erland could not admit to his brother’s death. Somehow it just didn’t feel within as if Borric was dead. He was out there somewhere, Erland was certain. The young woman who had entered with them clapped again, and suddenly the room was filled with activity.

      The Prince’s guards stood in mute amazement at the seemingly endless parade of Keshian servants who paraded through the suite, first for their quick efficiency in unpacking the Prince’s baggage and laying out formal clothing upon an armoire nearby, but mostly for the fact they were women, all beautiful and all clad in the same scanty fashion as the welcoming committee. The only difference was the lack of jewellery. The plain kilt was bound about the waist with a linen belt. Other than that, the women were naked.

      Crossing to where the two guards stood, Erland said, ‘Go get something to eat. If I need you, I’ll send word.’

      The two saluted and turned, obviously uncertain of where to go, but as if reading the Prince’s mind, a young woman said, ‘This way,’ and led them off.

      Another young woman, with eyes mahogany brown, came to stand before Erland. ‘If it pleases m’lord, your bath is ready.’ Erland noticed her belt was red, with a gold clasp, instead of the common white one, and assumed her to be the one in charge of this host of young women.

      Feeling suddenly both overdressed in the motionless hot air in the palace, and dirty from two days’ ride, Erland nodded and followed the woman into the next chamber. There a pool at least thirty feet long awaited. At the far end a gold statue of some sort of water spirit held a vase pouring water into the pool. Erland glanced around, for at least five women waited for him in the pool, all without clothing.

      Two others stepped to his sides, while the one who led him turned and began unfastening his tunic. ‘Er …’ began Erland, reflexively stepping away.

      ‘Is there something amiss, m’lord?’ asked the young woman with the mahogany eyes. Erland was suddenly aware that her dark skin was several hues: a reddish warmth of suntan over the naturally dark olive-tinged duskiness. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and Erland noticed her very long neck.

      Erland started to speak, then stopped, uncertain of what to say. Had Borric been with him, he was sure the two of them would both be splashing about in the pool, testing the limits of their prerogatives with the lovely serving women. But alone … he felt awkward. ‘What is your name?’

      ‘Miya, m’lord.’

      ‘Ah, Miya …’ He glanced at all the lovely ladies waiting for him to make his requirements known. ‘In my land it is not the custom for so many servants to … so many are not needed.’

      The young woman’s eyes searched his for an instant. Softly she answered, ‘If m’lord would indicate which servants he finds pleasing, I will send the rest away.’ She hesitated a second, then added, ‘Or should you wish but one, I would be most honoured to … care for your needs, m’lord.’ The last was said with clear meaning.

      Erland shook his head. ‘No, I mean …’ He sighed in resignation. ‘Just get on with it.’

      Deft hands stripped him of his clothing, and when he was nude he stepped quickly into the pool, feeling awkward and self-conscious. The water was hot, he was surprised to discover, when he descended the steps into the shallow pool. Feeling foolish, he sat upon the bottom step, the water coming to his chest. Then Miya unclasped her own belt and her small kilt fell to the floor. Unselfconsciously she entered the water and sat upon the step just behind Erland. Clapping once, another bath attendant signalled those outside of the pool to begin bringing oils, soaps, and unguents.

      With gentle pressure on his shoulders, Miya drew him back until his head was resting upon her soft breasts. Then he felt her fingers working upon his scalp as she rubbed scented oils into his hair. Two other servants were now at his side, rubbing his chest with soaps that smelled faintly of flowers. Another two then began to clean and trim his fingernails, while two more were busy kneading the tired muscles in his legs.

      After the first moment of tension at being handled so intimately by seven strange women, Erland took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. This was not much different from having one of the serving men scrub his back at home, he told himself. Then he glanced around at the dozen beautiful women standing on the side of the pool, and the seven in the water with him, and chuckled. Sure it was just like back home.

      ‘M’lord?’ asked Miya.

      Erland let out a long breath. ‘This takes some getting used to.’

      The woman ceased washing his hair, rinsing his head with water from a golden bowl, then she began to knead the muscles of his neck and shoulders. Despite his self-consciousness at being in the pool СКАЧАТЬ