Fall of a Kingdom (The Farsala Trilogy) by Bell Hilari

Author:Bell, Hilari [Bell, Hilari]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: SIMON & SCHUSTER BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
Published: 2005-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Soraya

SORAYA LEANED HER HEAD back in the tub and felt the ripples lapping around her shoulders. It was smaller than a proper bath—indeed, her knees were tucked up so high, they poked out of the water—but it was warm, and relaxing, and she was alone, which made her morning bath one of the best moments of the day.

She was in the tub earlier than usual this morning, for she’d awakened, as she almost always did, to the noise of Golnar stoking up the fire, pushing the bath kettle nearer to the flames, and beginning the day’s baking. Eblis, the djinn of sloth, had no hold on Golnar. Soraya had finally become so accustomed to these sounds that she could usually go back to sleep, but not this morning. She knew the woman was already being as quiet as she could, but since the hearth was open to both her room and the big room that served for kitchen, dining, and all household work space, sounds carried through.

At least rising early meant she got the first bath. Soraya disliked soaking in water the others had used, even if they did wash themselves in the basin and rinse with tepid water, just as she had, before stepping into the steaming tub. But she also disliked waiting for over a mark while Golnar heated sufficient water to fill the tub afresh, so rising shortly after Golnar started work wasn’t a bad…

Light bloomed on her eyelids, and they snapped up as the bathhouse door opened. She and Behram, the older of the two boys, stared at each other. The young lout hadn’t even tapped! And it wasn’t as if this was a public room, where anyone might enter unannounced.

Soraya grabbed the sides of the tub and rose, ignoring Behram’s widening eyes. He was only thirteen. Who cared what a servant thought? She reached down, seized the basin of dirty, cooling rinse water, and hurled the contents at his face.

Her aim, she was pleased to observe, was as accurate as a deghass’ should be. Behram yelled and stumbled back into the snowy yard. His hair dripped, and water ran down the front of his brightly embroidered shirt. Soraya stepped out of the tub, careful of her bare feet on the roughly sanded planks, and closed the door.

She climbed back into the tub gratefully, for the midwinter chill had raised goose bumps on her damp skin, despite the brazier in the corner. Sometimes Soraya thought the cold that came with the strange, frozen snow of the mountains wasn’t as deeply chilling as the cold that came with the damp, winter drizzle of the lowlands. She actually liked the blizzard winds that screamed around the eaves, though she missed lightning and thunder. Of course, winter’s slow drizzle seldom carried thunder with it either, and there were enough human storm sounds to make up the lack.

In many ways, Behram was like his father. He was growing into the same stocky, muscular build, with the same dour temperament. But where Behras was dour and silent, Behram bellowed like a bull ox.

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