Chapter 7 The Steward’s Trap
The victory feast ran four days and four nights.
There were many beautiful women at the banquet. All the men of the city had fled, leaving only the women.
Sister Mudan wore a fine flowered skirt. She lowered her brows and poured wine at The General's side. The women around all tried to lean against The General, but he glared them away with cold eyes.
He drew Sister Mudan close and said to those below: "The General wants only Mudan."
Sister Mudan's face looked shy.
I was fifteen this year. My figure had begun to fill out. Today everyone had washed clean. I could no longer smear boiler ash on my face.
The kitchen steward saw me and forgot the orders he had prepared.
"You are Ahua?"
He stared at my face. Amazement showed in his eyes. Gradually his gaze turned unclean.
I took the tray from his hands: "Sir, I'll serve the dishes for you."
The tray did not move. The steward's rough large hand clamped my wrist and grinned: "No rush. Come with me to the rear courtyard to fetch something."
In the camp I had seen looks like this many times. Everyone was in the front hall. The rear courtyard was empty now. The steward's purpose was plain to see.
I let him pull me along. My other hand reached for the Short Blade in my sleeve.