The Complete Krondor’s Sons 2-Book Collection: Prince of the Blood, The King’s Buccaneer. Raymond E. Feist
stood in mute amazement at the seemingly endless parade of Keshian servants who paraded through the suite, first for their quick efficiency in unpacking the Prince’s baggage and laying out formal clothing upon an armoire nearby, but mostly for the fact they were women, all beautiful and all clad in the same scanty fashion as the welcoming committee. The only difference was the lack of jewellery. The plain kilt was bound about the waist with a linen belt. Other than that, the women were naked.
Crossing to where the two guards stood, Erland said, ‘Go get something to eat. If I need you, I’ll send word.’
The two saluted and turned, obviously uncertain of where to go, but as if reading the Prince’s mind, a young woman said, ‘This way,’ and led them off.
Another young woman, with eyes mahogany brown, came to stand before Erland. ‘If it pleases m’lord, your bath is ready.’ Erland noticed her belt was red, with a gold clasp, instead of the common white one, and assumed her to be the one in charge of this host of young women.
Feeling suddenly both overdressed in the motionless hot air in the palace, and dirty from two days’ ride, Erland nodded and followed the woman into the next chamber. There a pool at least thirty feet long awaited. At the far end a gold statue of some sort of water spirit held a vase pouring water into the pool. Erland glanced around, for at least five women waited for him in the pool, all without clothing.
Two others stepped to his sides, while the one who led him turned and began unfastening his tunic. ‘Er …’ began Erland, reflexively stepping away.
‘Is there something amiss, m’lord?’ asked the young woman with the mahogany eyes. Erland was suddenly aware that her dark skin was several hues: a reddish warmth of suntan over the naturally dark olive-tinged duskiness. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight braid, and Erland noticed her very long neck.
Erland started to speak, then stopped, uncertain of what to say. Had Borric been with him, he was sure the two of them would both be splashing about in the pool, testing the limits of their prerogatives with the lovely serving women. But alone … he felt awkward. ‘What is your name?’
‘Miya, m’lord.’
‘Ah, Miya …’ He glanced at all the lovely ladies waiting for him to make his requirements known. ‘In my land it is not the custom for so many servants to … so many are not needed.’
The young woman’s eyes searched his for an instant. Softly she answered, ‘If m’lord would indicate which servants he finds pleasing, I will send the rest away.’ She hesitated a second, then added, ‘Or should you wish but one, I would be most honoured to … care for your needs, m’lord.’ The last was said with clear meaning.
Erland shook his head. ‘No, I mean …’ He sighed in resignation. ‘Just get on with it.’
Deft hands stripped him of his clothing, and when he was nude he stepped quickly into the pool, feeling awkward and self-conscious. The water was hot, he was surprised to discover, when he descended the steps into the shallow pool. Feeling foolish, he sat upon the bottom step, the water coming to his chest. Then Miya unclasped her own belt and her small kilt fell to the floor. Unselfconsciously she entered the water and sat upon the step just behind Erland. Clapping once, another bath attendant signalled those outside of the pool to begin bringing oils, soaps, and unguents.
With gentle pressure on his shoulders, Miya drew him back until his head was resting upon her soft breasts. Then he felt her fingers working upon his scalp as she rubbed scented oils into his hair. Two other servants were now at his side, rubbing his chest with soaps that smelled faintly of flowers. Another two then began to clean and trim his fingernails, while two more were busy kneading the tired muscles in his legs.
After the first moment of tension at being handled so intimately by seven strange women, Erland took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. This was not much different from having one of the serving men scrub his back at home, he told himself. Then he glanced around at the dozen beautiful women standing on the side of the pool, and the seven in the water with him, and chuckled. Sure it was just like back home.
‘M’lord?’ asked Miya.
Erland let out a long breath. ‘This takes some getting used to.’
The woman ceased washing his hair, rinsing his head with water from a golden bowl, then she began to knead the muscles of his neck and shoulders. Despite his self-consciousness at being in the pool with the nude servants, he found that the persistent massage was causing his eyelids to feel heavy. Smelling the lovely sun-touched fragrance of Miya’s damp skin along with the soft aromas of the oils, he closed his eyes and felt fatigue and worry begin to slip away from him.
He sighed deeply, and Miya spoke softly. ‘Does m’lord desire anything?’
Erland smiled for the first time since the bandits’ attack and said, ‘No, I think I could get used to this.’
‘Then rest, my handsome young lord with the fire hair,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘Rest and refresh yourself, for tonight She Who Is Kesh will receive you.’
Erland settled back against the soft body of the servant and let the warmth of the pool and the kneading fingers of the women, as they probed tense and tired muscles, overtake him. Soon he felt himself drifting off into a hazy, sensuous doze, and as he relaxed, he felt himself responding to the gentle caresses of the women. Through lowered lashes he saw smiling faces looking at him with expectation, as two of the servants exchanged whispers and stifled a giggle. Yes, he thought, I could get used to this.
One of the servants shook his foot, as she whispered, ‘M’lord!’
Erland elbowed himself up to see what was occurring and blinked through sleepy eyes. Rousing himself fully awake, Erland said, ‘What?’
‘The Lord James sends word he will be here within half an hour, m’lord. He advises you to be ready for your presentation to the Empress. You must get dressed.’
Erland looked first right, then left, and found himself hemmed in on both sides by two motionless bodies; on his right, the sleeping Miya made soft breathing sounds, while on the left, another servant – the one with the startling green eyes, he remembered, but he couldn’t recall her name – watched him through half-closed eyelids. Slapping Miya playfully on her bare buttocks, he said, ‘Time to get ready, my darlings!’
Miya responded by coming fully awake and out of the huge bed in one fluid motion. She signalled by clapping her hands once and instantly half a dozen more slaves appeared with Erland’s wardrobe, cleaned and ready to wear. Erland jumped out of bed and motioned for them to wait and hurried into the room with the pool. Motioning the servants to stay out of his way, he walked down the three steps, dunked himself under, and rinsed off. To Miya, who had followed him, he remarked, ‘I was drenched. And I needed this.’
The woman smiled slightly. ‘You were … very active for a time, m’lord.’
Erland returned the slight smile. ‘Is it always so hot?’
The girl said, ‘This is the summer season, so it is like this. Fans are used to cool those who wish them. In the winter, it is really very cold at night and many furs are needed upon the beds to keep warm.’
Erland found that hard to imagine as he left the pool. Three women dried him quickly, and he returned to the bed chamber.
Being helped to get dressed turned out to be more difficult than he had imagined. He kept trying to do things for himself and that interfered with the women attempting to fasten laces or buckle clasps. But he was fully dressed when Earl James was announced. Erland nodded permission for him to enter.
James appeared and said, ‘Well, you look better. Have a nice nap?’
Erland glanced about at the abundant female flesh on display and said, ‘Quite nice, actually.’
James laughed. ‘Gamina was not pleased to see so many beautiful young women in our suite, so they sent some handsome young men. She became very distressed when they offered to help her bathe.’ He glanced about.