and moved to the window of Haru'Luk's private box, overlooking the arena. The crowd below had already forgotten her personal shame, now enjoying the spectacle of Jorva's fight. The tattooed dwarf whom she had met in the slave pits of the northern trolls stood alone against a hulking Zhadeen warrior. The little man ran circles around the heavily muscled giant, darting in and out, teasing fresh blood each time his teeth found their mark in the big man's flesh. Jorva preferred to fight unarmed. His teeth, filed to daggerlike points proved a formidable and terrible weapon.
Tanys watched her friend work without really seeing it. In her mind, she relived her battle with Baran, if one could dignify that shame by calling it a battle. What had been so different about him that he could scatter her thoughts and overwhelm her defenses? The memory of him leaning over her, between her legs... Tanys shook the image from her head. Danella's warm hands moved over her shoulders, rubbing the tension from her muscles.
"Let it go," Danella said, "You had to lose eventually. Just be happy you didn't lose anything I couldn't put back on you."
Tanys grunted, watching as Jorva danced free of a spurting artery. The roaring zhadite would soon be dead.
Danella's hands slipped under Tanys' arms and came up under the raven girl's breasts, weighing them in her palms. "Would be a terrible shame if anything happened to these beauties."
Tanys shrugged free, giving Danella a rueful look. She crossed the room, putting a sturdy table between herself and the lascivious nurse. Danella leaned against the railing, licking her lips as her dark eyes followed Tanys.
Tanys opened a large wooden chest and retrieved her twin daggers. Formed of Ghast-wrought steel, they could shear through bone and armor with ease. The gifts of a sorcerer she once loved, and perhaps still did, they were never far from her. In her hands the icy chill of the northern wastes seemed to linger in the black steel. What was she doing here? Where else would she go?
The sound of Haru's hooves, stomping up the stairs, foretold the faun's return. At least he would have the money that Jorva's victory had earned as well as his profit from Tanys' humiliation. Yet his steps came too fast. Something was wrong.
"Quickly!" Haru said, tossing a bag of coin to Tanys, "Get everything put away. We're having a guest!"
Tanys stuffed the daggers and the coins into the chest, swinging the heavy lid shut. "Who is it?"
"The Malchesse!" Haru said, straightening his doublet and arranging the curly hair around his horns in a mirror. He spared another glance toward Tanys. "Get those silly clothes off! And try to look... humble."
Tanys glowered at him, but she knew he was right. She slipped free of her robe and tossed it out of sight, taking her place on her knees beside Danella on the floor. Once again, hooves sounded on the steps, more than one set this time. Presently two large, satyrs in red armor swept into the room their hands on sword hilts at their belts. Haru flinched back, giving way to them as they cleared the landing at the top of the stairs. Their master followed close behind.
Tanys knew that she should not look directly at a satyr, but she hazarded a glance up through her dark lashes, keeping her head down and hands clasped behind her back. The Malchesse slave master entered the room with deliberate slowness. The satyr's black fur gleamed darkly, well groomed and brushed with scented oils. His small curving horns crowned his shaggy head above cruel, golden eyes. His scarlet doublet, woven of fine silk, bore a crest of silver filigree, stylized thorn vines wrapped around a cringing female faun. He rolled the shaft of a short slaver's crop between his fingers as he surveyed the room.
"Vella no-durain, Haru'Luk," the Malchesse said, his voice a disaffected drone. The black satyr's head tilted back, even as Haru's dipped in the subtle establishment of dominance common to the satyr race.
"Vella
Tanys watched her friend work without really seeing it. In her mind, she relived her battle with Baran, if one could dignify that shame by calling it a battle. What had been so different about him that he could scatter her thoughts and overwhelm her defenses? The memory of him leaning over her, between her legs... Tanys shook the image from her head. Danella's warm hands moved over her shoulders, rubbing the tension from her muscles.
"Let it go," Danella said, "You had to lose eventually. Just be happy you didn't lose anything I couldn't put back on you."
Tanys grunted, watching as Jorva danced free of a spurting artery. The roaring zhadite would soon be dead.
Danella's hands slipped under Tanys' arms and came up under the raven girl's breasts, weighing them in her palms. "Would be a terrible shame if anything happened to these beauties."
Tanys shrugged free, giving Danella a rueful look. She crossed the room, putting a sturdy table between herself and the lascivious nurse. Danella leaned against the railing, licking her lips as her dark eyes followed Tanys.
Tanys opened a large wooden chest and retrieved her twin daggers. Formed of Ghast-wrought steel, they could shear through bone and armor with ease. The gifts of a sorcerer she once loved, and perhaps still did, they were never far from her. In her hands the icy chill of the northern wastes seemed to linger in the black steel. What was she doing here? Where else would she go?
The sound of Haru's hooves, stomping up the stairs, foretold the faun's return. At least he would have the money that Jorva's victory had earned as well as his profit from Tanys' humiliation. Yet his steps came too fast. Something was wrong.
"Quickly!" Haru said, tossing a bag of coin to Tanys, "Get everything put away. We're having a guest!"
Tanys stuffed the daggers and the coins into the chest, swinging the heavy lid shut. "Who is it?"
"The Malchesse!" Haru said, straightening his doublet and arranging the curly hair around his horns in a mirror. He spared another glance toward Tanys. "Get those silly clothes off! And try to look... humble."
Tanys glowered at him, but she knew he was right. She slipped free of her robe and tossed it out of sight, taking her place on her knees beside Danella on the floor. Once again, hooves sounded on the steps, more than one set this time. Presently two large, satyrs in red armor swept into the room their hands on sword hilts at their belts. Haru flinched back, giving way to them as they cleared the landing at the top of the stairs. Their master followed close behind.
Tanys knew that she should not look directly at a satyr, but she hazarded a glance up through her dark lashes, keeping her head down and hands clasped behind her back. The Malchesse slave master entered the room with deliberate slowness. The satyr's black fur gleamed darkly, well groomed and brushed with scented oils. His small curving horns crowned his shaggy head above cruel, golden eyes. His scarlet doublet, woven of fine silk, bore a crest of silver filigree, stylized thorn vines wrapped around a cringing female faun. He rolled the shaft of a short slaver's crop between his fingers as he surveyed the room.
"Vella no-durain, Haru'Luk," the Malchesse said, his voice a disaffected drone. The black satyr's head tilted back, even as Haru's dipped in the subtle establishment of dominance common to the satyr race.
"Vella
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