Golden Age (The Shifting Tides, #1)(55)

She now stood outside another curtained entrance while her guard cleared his throat. ‘Eunuch!’ he called.

A wild-looking man with shoulder-length hair and pockmarked skin pulled aside the curtain.

‘What is it?’

‘A newcomer. See she is washed and made ready to present to the sun king, should he call for her.’

The tall man rumbled an assent and took hold of Chloe’s hand. He was as big as Kargan. Attempting to free her hand would serve no purpose other than to anger him.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘You stink, girl.’

He led her down the hall, past open doorways at both sides, to the very end, pulling another curtain aside to reveal bright sunlight. Chloe exited into a sunny courtyard, where ewers of water stood beside wide basins. Piles of cloth sat on stone benches. Small jugs lined the wall.

‘Strip,’ the man said.

Chloe swallowed. She scanned the courtyard, seeing a high wall on all sides, with the only doorway the one through which she’d just emerged.

‘Hurry up. We’re alone here. The curtains mark out the women’s quarters. You’re safe from prying eyes.’

Still she stood frozen.

‘Look, girl,’ he said in exasperation. Pulling down his loose trousers, he revealed an abdomen coated with hair that grew thicker as her eyes inadvertently traveled down. He thrust his hips out obscenely and parted the bush of black hair.

Chloe flinched as she saw a gash where his manhood should have been.

He pulled his trousers back up. ‘They took it all. You have nothing to fear from me. Now take your filthy garment off.’

She removed first one copper pin and then another, shrugging out of the diaphanous chiton and letting it fall to the floor. The eunuch – she understood the word now – looked on impassively. She felt strange to be naked and standing out in the open in a foreign place. The constant sun of the voyage had tanned her limbs golden, leaving the rest of her body pale as milk.

‘Come over here.’ The eunuch led her to the nearest basin and without further ado splashed water onto her hair and body. ‘The water has been in the sun all day. See? It is warm.’

Chloe nodded as she began to wash away the stains of the journey. The eunuch walked to the wall, bending down and grabbing a ceramic jug before reaching for a horsehair brush. He tipped oil from the jug over the hairs on the brush.

‘Lift your arms,’ he said.

As she complied, the eunuch started to scrub. His strokes were practiced and neither harsh nor soft, the oil lubricating the brush and foaming as he worked. Chloe turned when he asked and when she inhaled she realized the oil was scented; she recognized rosemary and lavender.

He finished by scrubbing her hair and then completed the ritual by upending a ewer over her head.

‘Dry yourself,’ he said, taking one of the piled cloths and handing it to her. ‘Now come with me.’

‘My clothes—’

‘—Will be burned,’ he said matter-of-factly.

Reaching the doorway and pulling the curtain to the side, he frowned when he saw she wasn’t following.

‘Did you not hear me, girl? You are in the women’s quarters. Your lack of clothing will cause no comment.’

With a sigh, Chloe followed the eunuch back into the interior, dark and cool compared to the courtyard. He led her to one of the side doors and, entering, she saw a large room so expansive that if she threw a stone she wouldn’t strike the far end. Frescos of flowers and naked children decorated the surface of every wall. Woven mats covered the floors. Latticed screens divided the area into a multitude of corner spaces, each having a bed pallet and chest. Young female slaves scurried past carrying jugs and baskets. Despite the eunuch’s earlier words, they all looked at her curiously. She fought not to cover herself with her arms.

Then a slim boy with short dark hair entered from a hidden doorway at the room’s far end, obscured by the screens. He was young, barely out of his teens, and held the handle of a jug in one hand.

Chloe stopped in her tracks. Her eyes shifted to the left and right, but there was nowhere she could hide.

‘Master,’ the young man bowed to the tall eunuch. ‘Her place is ready.’ He spoke with a soft, lisping voice. ‘By the tulips, in the far corner.’ He pointed to a place across the room.

‘Good,’ the eunuch said. ‘Come and see me when your work is done.’

‘Of course, master.’ He bowed again.

Chloe felt better when he’d gone, though she wondered if he was also a eunuch. She supposed he must be, to be allowed in the women’s quarters. He was obviously a slave. It disturbed her that anyone could maim a slave, and one so young.

She was led to a bed pallet no different from any others. The other pallets around her were empty; she had the place to herself. The eunuch pointed to the chest. ‘Clothing inside. Dress yourself.’

He turned to depart, and even as she opened the chest and pulled out the first chiton she found, throwing it over her nakedness, Chloe reached out to touch his arm.

‘What is to become of me?’

Behind the question, she was wondering how she might escape.

‘You are a woman,’ he said. ‘Your place is here. Women are to be kept hidden.’

‘Hidden?’

‘Your attributes are beauty and the ability to bear children. You need to be secluded. Unlike men, you have no skills.’