Shadowdance 01 - A Dance of Cloaks

“You need it.”
    At their approach a couple of mercenaries drew their swords and beckoned them closer.
    “Your name?” one of them asked.
    “Yoren Kull,” he answered. “Take me to my father.”
    The mercenary spat.
    “Follow me.”
    He led them through the camp. Alyssa took in what she could. From the way the men lazed about, it didn’t appear that they’d be marching anywhere soon. Most of the armed men were busy eating, telling stories, or gambling with wooden dice. A couple sneered at her, and given the state of her clothing and hair, she didn’t blame them. She hated them for it, but she didn’t blame them.
    Theo sat in an ornate chair in the center of the pavilion. He didn’t stand when they entered through the flap. Alyssa had met him only once, what felt like a lifetime ago. He was a big man, with big hands and an even bigger beard. He had a hungry smile, and beady brown eyes that seemed to covet everything he saw. He gestured to two chairs at the table before him. A snap of his fingers, and two servants hurried over with cups, plates, and dinnerware. A third servant filled the cups with wine while a fourth plopped servings of meat and bread atop the plates.
    “Welcome back, my son,” Theo said. “And I see you’ve brought your lover back from the Abyss. She looks it too!”
    He guffawed. Yoren laughed along. Alyssa only stared.
    “Come now, I only jest in good nature,” Theo said. “I would never be amused at seeing a woman in such a state. Would you like some of my girls to bathe and dress you before joining us? Nothing would trouble me more than an uncomfortable look crossing your face.”
    “She’s only uncomfortable with me in the bedchambers,” Yoren said as he took his seat at the right hand of his father. “Though I fear I inherited that wonderful fault from you.”
    Theo burst once more into laughter. Alyssa felt her heart cool. He might have a silver tongue, but Theo was a piggish brute. If Yoren flung her to the ground right then and there with the aim of raping her, he wouldn’t bat an eye. If anything, he might try to join in.
    Alyssa shuddered, and it did not go unnoticed.
    “Forgive my son,” Theo said. “He offends when he means only humor. Let’s see, Mary? Mary! There you are, girl. Clean her up, will you? I remember her a lovely one, so let’s make her match my memory.”
    Mary was an older woman with gray hair tied behind her head in a bun. She had been the one directing the other servants who had laid out the food and dinnerware.
    “Come with me,” Mary said, grabbing Alyssa’s hand. Her voice was firm but comforting. The look in her eye was one of guarded sympathy.
    Next to the pavilion was a smaller tent for the servants. They slept on blankets on the ground, fifty of them crammed together in a tent meant for twenty. Beside the servants’ tent was a giant wooden tub. After a word from Mary, several younger girls rushed off carrying buckets to fetch hot water from the fires.
    “It’ll be cold for a bit,” Mary said as she began stripping off Alyssa’s clothes. “Once we get some heat, maybe a few hot coals, you’ll be better.”
    Alyssa glanced inside the tub. The water was hazy, but she’d bathed in worse when staying with her foster families. She let Mary strip her naked, glad that the two tents offered protection from the mercenaries who wandered about the rest of the camp.
    “We’ll get these washed while you bathe,” Mary said. “Though heaven knows you deserve better. I’ll see what we have stashed in the…”
    She stopped as Yoren’s dagger tumbled out of the clothes bundled in her hands. Alyssa’s entire body froze. She’d forgotten it amid the frenzy of servants preparing the bath and tugging at her dress. Mouth locked open, she met Mary’s eyes. In them she saw a hard, worldly understanding.
    “A dangerous toy for the bedchambers,” Mary said.
    “Not when you want the bedchambers quiet,” Alyssa replied.
    Mary guided the naked Alyssa into the bath. True to her word, it was cold. When the first of the servants arrived with a bucket of boiling water, Mary took the bucket from her and poured it in herself. As the steam rose, the older woman leaned closer so that none might hear her.
    “You kill him, the monsters here will ravage you,” Mary said. “Keep it hidden. Keep it safe. Wait until you’re truly alone.”
    Then she was gone in search of finer clothing. More buckets of hot water were poured into the tub, banishing