"John Maddox Roberts - Stormlands 02- The Black Shield" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts John Maddox)

"You will obey any order from a warrior of the lesser peoples, unless it conflicts with an order from a
Shasinn. You have no rights that a free man or woman is bound to respect. Forget pride, forget the status
you used to have, forget the past. From now on, you have only one virtue: obedience. See that you do
not neglect that virtue. Now, I am going to choose my personal attendants from among you. Stand up
and stop sniveling. You have already escaped death, and that is what you feared most."

She had specific aims when she wandered among her human property. She ignored the males. Raised
among a proud warrior people, she could not abide the presence of able-bodied men who would not
fight. She passed up women with children, as she did not want her servants to be distracted by lesser
obligations. It was too soon to take on the demoralized women who had, just days before, been free,
well-born, even slave owners themselves. Training them would be too much bother. She stopped before
a tall, beautiful woman with black hair and very white skin. The woman stood serenely, embarrassed by
neither her condition nor her nakedness.

"You are a born slave?" Larissa demanded.

"Captured as a child, Mistress." The woman kept her head and eyes lowered, but her voice was clear
and steady.

"Where was your home?"

"The far south. Mistress. Near the border with Chiwa."

"Where did you serve before we came?"

"The house of Hanas, the high priest of Aq, Mistress."

"Good. You are familiar with the work of a great house, then."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Go stand by that young warrior." She indicated one of her personal guard, a smooth-muscled youth who
wore his long hair in hundreds of tiny plaits, the mark of a Shasinn junior warrior.

Quickly the queen chose another score of slaves. She chose mainly for beauty and the habit of
obedience. She chose a few free-born girls who were young enough to adjust quickly to their new status.
Accustomed to the austere life of her native island, she had little use for the specialized skills boasted by
some of the great-house slaves. She needed no seamstresses, since she rarely wore more than a
loincloth. Hairdressers and cosmeticians were an utter frivolity. She had no taste for the mainland music
and her preferences in food and drink were simple so she ignored the musicians and cooks. She was
about to go when a quietly bold voice stopped her.

"Mistress."

Larissa saw that it was a small woman who spoke, one she had passed by because she held herself a
little aloof from the others, indicating a spirit that would take much beating to subdue. At another time she
might have found that a fascinating project, but with her new palace to build and her new city to put in
order, she would be too busy. She could ignore the woman, or, better, have her beaten for the
impertinence of addressing the queen without permission.