"Sharon Green - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Sharon)
This time the servant led the way to the very end of the narrow hall, and the door there gave access to an
even smaller and narrower backstairs area that was rather dim. As soon as they had entered the dimness,
however, the sound of voices that Timper had noticed earlier became a good deal more imposing on the
former quiet. He followed the servant through the dimness to the left, wondering what could possibly be
causing such a row, and then another door was opened that answered his question as soon as he had
stepped through it into the room beyond.
"Holy Emissaries intercede for my soul!" Timper prayed silently but fervently as he fought to keep the
shock off his face, his eyes seeking something innocuous to rest on. The only trouble was, there was
nothing innocuous to look at, at least not in that well-lit room. Men dressed in the off-duty leathers of
Blades lolled everywhere on the thick carpeting, many of them leaning elbows on cushions as they drank
from goblets or shouted in encouragement and high amusement. The manyтАФfemalesтАФwith them either
had hands on them or were being themselves explored, their scantily clad bodies proving easily
accessible, and in the midst of all that there was aтАФaтАФdance of sorts being performed. The pretty young
thing standing alone in the middle of the floor was still clad in a proper gown, but even as Timper
watched she acceded to the shouting around her with a sob, and began slowly removing the gown. Tears
ran down her blushing cheeks as sight of
LADY BLADE, LORD FIGHTER
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her delicate underclothing was brutally forced from proper privacy into the public domain, but all she
received in the way of compassion from those who watched was an increase in their laughter. Had Timper
not been certain the girl was a slave he would have interfered no matter the consequences, but a man
would be foolish to concern himself with the distress of a newly-made chain child, mostly especially in
what he now knew that place to be. He had never before visited one himself, but he had heard stories of
such places; oh, my, he certainly had.
"This way, sir," the servant Rinson said to a hopefully unobtrusively appalled Timper, and the courier was
quick to follow across the floor behind the stiffly moving, softly sobbing girl. He made every effort to
keep his eyes on the servant rather than looking again at the slave, and strove to move as rapidly as
possible without giving the appearance of hurrying. A true gentleman never looked at the unclad body of
any female, not even his wife, unless he received special dispensation from the Holy Emissaries in
acknowledgment of his proven piety. He was then permitted to look upon the woman he took to wife, but
certainly not any other. When he admitted to his Holy Council in Strict Truth that he had abrogated a
privilege which wasn't his, there would, without the least doubt, be absolute hell to pay.
An arch gave access to another room like the first, only this one had a small, dark beauty in transparent
veils moving sensuously to the sound of a pipe. Her wide, beautiful eyes moved from one watching,
grinning Blade to the next, the smile visible on her full, pouting lips beneath her face-veil an almost-
shouted invitation, and Timper found it best to remove his cloak as he passed her, something that helped
to keep her from his sight. Everyone knew that Blades of a Sword Company were eternally damned
anyway and therefore often indulged in things that made a sensible man tremble and turn away, but
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