"Briggs, Patricia - Sianim 2 - Steal the Dragon.text" - читать интересную книгу автора (Briggs Patricia)

Before he had a chance to protest, Rialla slipped through the door and into the
darkened hallway.

The slaves' quarters were in the basement, next to the wine cellar. Rialla
supposed that they had originally been put there so as not to use space in the
valuable ground floor, while allowing the slaves to attend their owners quickly.
Whatever the reason, the result was that the quarters were more comfortable than the
rest of the castle. Underground there were no chilly drafts in the winter, and in the
summer when the rest of the castle was baking, the quarters were cool enough to
need the single blanket that lay neatly at the foot of all the bunks.

In Darran, slaves were used for pleasure rather than work, so most were female.
The few male slaves primarily worked in pleasure houses where a wealthy Darranian
would be preserved from the social stigmatism of homosexuality. Women in Darran
did not own slaves. With little need to separate male and female, the slave quarters at
Westhold consisted of a single, large room.

Rialla didn't really expect to find out anything in the quarters, but she wasn't
ready to relax and sleep either. It might have been a touch from her talent or just
instinct, but something caused her to hesitate before she entered.

"Е sleep here. You will stay here until I come for you in the morning. Do you
understand?"

The man's voice was gentle and quiet. There was nothing in it to account for the
sudden cramping of Rialla's stomach or the shaking of her hands.

She turned frantically to the locked door of the wine cellar. Traders teach their
children how to pick locks and pockets as soon as the tots are tall enough to reach a
doorknob. The wine cellar lock had never been intended to keep out anyone but the
servants, and it gave her little trouble.

Rialla closed the door of the cellar quietly behind her. She huddled against the
wood in the darkness and heard the man's hard-soled boots click across the stone
floor. He paused briefly before the wine cellar door, as if he'd heard it open. But he
continued up the stairs without investigating further.

Rialla folded her arms around her knees and listened to the pounding of her heart
in her ears. What was her former owner doing in Lord Karsten's hold? As Laeth had
put it, Karsten would be as likely to invite a swineherd as a slave trainer to his
celebration.


She'd spent seven years as his slave, but most of that time was spent in the little
bar in Kentar, the capital city of Darran. The rest had been in a small estate in the
south. Uneasily, she remembered little hints that he might have been more than a
simple slave trainer: the servants who called him "lord," and the ambience of age and
respectability at the estate where she was trained.

If he was highly connected, it would be possible for him to take part in polite