months ago.”
“The first few are the worst, Manthe-mother.”
Niyes nodded to two servants, who pulled open a pair of handsome wooden doors. Beyond was the dining chamber, whose sole furnishing—a huge table, surrounded by sitting-pillows—was heavily laden with more dishes than Sunandi could count.
A servant crouched beside one of the pillows. Taking the hint, Sunandi sat at that place, inclining her head to the girl. To her surprise the girl visibly started, darting a look around with wide eyes as if she couldn’t believe Sunandi had done such a thing.
Sunandi turned back to the table, concealing her distaste. Niyes had shown such careful adherence to Kisuati tradition; she had not expected this. The girl was almost certainly a free citizen of their servant caste, since in Gujaareh criminals were killed or imprisoned, not enslaved. Thus it was only proper to treat her with basic courtesy—but clearly the girl was not used to that.
Kisuati on the surface, Gujaareen underneath.
An importantdistinction to keep in mind if she were ever so foolish as to consider trusting Niyes.
In the meantime the feast demanded her attention—for however diluted they might be in other ways, the family had clearly kept tradition intact in the kitchen. There was not a single fish or river-vegetable on the table, for which alone Sunandi thanked the fifty hearth gods. The servant girl presented her with slivers of spicy fowl roasted in cumin and jife nuts; fluffy barley cakes stuffed with yam, currants, and hekeh seeds; gingered lamb and tamban patties in rich gravy; and more. Over a dozen other dishes, all of them exquisite. She sampled as many as she could, aware that Lumanthe would be watching anxiously for her approval, but it took no great effort to display appreciation under the circumstances. The children grinned when she leaned back to belch.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the servants took away the dishes and replaced them with decanters of mintmelon wine. Another pair of servants sat at the far end of the chamber and began to play soft music on a flute and twelve-note drum. Niyes lifted his cup and poured a small amount on the table as an offering to the gods; Sunandi and the rest of the family did the same, formally ending the meal.
She’d sensed Niyes’s tension earlier and had guessed that he would wait to say whatever was on his mind, at least until guest-custom was satisfied. Sure enough, he nodded to Lumanthe a few moments after the wine was poured. Lumanthe stood, gesturing curtly to the children; Sunandi affected surprise.
“Is there some pressing matter? I’d hoped to spend the evening sharing gossip, Manthe-mother.”
“Nothing important, Nandi-daughter, but we will have to gossip another time. Niyes wants to talk business—men’s gossip.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You may have been trained to endure it, but I’ve no taste for such matters. We shall leave you to it.” Then she herded the children out, pausing to bow farewell from the doorway. “Not too much business, Niyes. She’s had a good meal tonight; don’t curdle it for her.”
Niyes favored Lumanthe with a thin smile—and said nothing in reply, Sunandi noted while the family left. She watched Niyes over the rim of her winecup, noting that his tension seemed to increase as soon as the doors closed. He poured another cup for himself, spilling a few drops in the process.
“Will you walk with me, Speaker?” he asked at last. “I would give you a tour of my household.”
She noted the darting glance of his eyes; the servants. She smiled and got to her feet. “A walk would settle my meal, thank you.”
They left the dining chamber and strolled the halls of the sprawling house, exchanging small talk occasionally. She let Niyes control the conversation, knowing it would set him at ease and trusting him to know when it was safe to talk. To her surprise, he took a lantern and led her into the house’s atrium, where a
“The first few are the worst, Manthe-mother.”
Niyes nodded to two servants, who pulled open a pair of handsome wooden doors. Beyond was the dining chamber, whose sole furnishing—a huge table, surrounded by sitting-pillows—was heavily laden with more dishes than Sunandi could count.
A servant crouched beside one of the pillows. Taking the hint, Sunandi sat at that place, inclining her head to the girl. To her surprise the girl visibly started, darting a look around with wide eyes as if she couldn’t believe Sunandi had done such a thing.
Sunandi turned back to the table, concealing her distaste. Niyes had shown such careful adherence to Kisuati tradition; she had not expected this. The girl was almost certainly a free citizen of their servant caste, since in Gujaareh criminals were killed or imprisoned, not enslaved. Thus it was only proper to treat her with basic courtesy—but clearly the girl was not used to that.
Kisuati on the surface, Gujaareen underneath.
An importantdistinction to keep in mind if she were ever so foolish as to consider trusting Niyes.
In the meantime the feast demanded her attention—for however diluted they might be in other ways, the family had clearly kept tradition intact in the kitchen. There was not a single fish or river-vegetable on the table, for which alone Sunandi thanked the fifty hearth gods. The servant girl presented her with slivers of spicy fowl roasted in cumin and jife nuts; fluffy barley cakes stuffed with yam, currants, and hekeh seeds; gingered lamb and tamban patties in rich gravy; and more. Over a dozen other dishes, all of them exquisite. She sampled as many as she could, aware that Lumanthe would be watching anxiously for her approval, but it took no great effort to display appreciation under the circumstances. The children grinned when she leaned back to belch.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, the servants took away the dishes and replaced them with decanters of mintmelon wine. Another pair of servants sat at the far end of the chamber and began to play soft music on a flute and twelve-note drum. Niyes lifted his cup and poured a small amount on the table as an offering to the gods; Sunandi and the rest of the family did the same, formally ending the meal.
She’d sensed Niyes’s tension earlier and had guessed that he would wait to say whatever was on his mind, at least until guest-custom was satisfied. Sure enough, he nodded to Lumanthe a few moments after the wine was poured. Lumanthe stood, gesturing curtly to the children; Sunandi affected surprise.
“Is there some pressing matter? I’d hoped to spend the evening sharing gossip, Manthe-mother.”
“Nothing important, Nandi-daughter, but we will have to gossip another time. Niyes wants to talk business—men’s gossip.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “You may have been trained to endure it, but I’ve no taste for such matters. We shall leave you to it.” Then she herded the children out, pausing to bow farewell from the doorway. “Not too much business, Niyes. She’s had a good meal tonight; don’t curdle it for her.”
Niyes favored Lumanthe with a thin smile—and said nothing in reply, Sunandi noted while the family left. She watched Niyes over the rim of her winecup, noting that his tension seemed to increase as soon as the doors closed. He poured another cup for himself, spilling a few drops in the process.
“Will you walk with me, Speaker?” he asked at last. “I would give you a tour of my household.”
She noted the darting glance of his eyes; the servants. She smiled and got to her feet. “A walk would settle my meal, thank you.”
They left the dining chamber and strolled the halls of the sprawling house, exchanging small talk occasionally. She let Niyes control the conversation, knowing it would set him at ease and trusting him to know when it was safe to talk. To her surprise, he took a lantern and led her into the house’s atrium, where a
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