Following her afternoon with the young artist Tsudros, Svetlana was escorted back to her simple living quarters to gather what simple belongings were hers. She would be reporting to the home of Murka the following morning, as a gift from the king. Zaria was not back to her own room yet as it would be late in the night when she would return.
Branka greeted Svetlana at the entryway to her room.
"My tattoo is lovely," she said, pulling her top off her shoulder to show Svetlana, as they approached a torch lighting the hallway. It was a graceful rendition of a nightingale in flight. The flesh around it, however, was it still red and swollen. "It hurts much now, but Tsudros told me to bath it only after a day to let it heal.
"He told me the same," Svetlana said. "Look at my beautiful humming bird! She exposed her entire chest to her friend, allowing the little creature's position to be known--just above the swelling of her full right breat.
"It's lovely too . . .and very sweet," Branka added "Just like Tsudros. I could see we all liked him . . . though not so much as Zaria did. Could you tell?"
"We should not worry about her," Branka said. "She will never be allowed to be with a man. And in the end . . . that will be her curse."
"Or maybe a blessing. Tell me Branka. You know I will be in the bed of this hero Murka very soon. I fear greatly what he will be like. How he will treat me. Please tell me . . . does it hurt greatly?"
"I can only speak for what I felt the night before. The way Sharvur handled me and took me for his pleasure. Maybe I was unlucky because he is a rough man. He was not careful with me. He seemed to enjoy that I was afraid. And that I would feel discomfort with the things he did to me."
Svetlana was for a moment silent. "Yes. But was there much pain when he. . ."
"Yes! That came with great pain. And there was blood. I can not say I will ever enjoy those things he did. Maybe we as women are not to enjoy any of that act which we were told can come with love. They tell us that someday we will. But I don't believe what the women from our village told us. I know now it will never be a joy, Svetlana. I can see it only hurting each time. And I will always dread those nights when Sharvur calls me to his bed."
Svetlana leaned over and put her hand on Branka's healthy shoulder. "It was only your first time. They say it is always the worst."
"Yes. . .but he took such delight in teasing me and making me feel pain. He did it is so many ways. I am too ashamed to tell you how."
Branka put her hand over her eyes to hide her tears of regret and anguish. It was too much for her, binging thoses feelings back to the surface.
"His excitement only increased with the fear he caused me. . . and the pain that came with it. Svetlana, you say Zaria is cursed to never be with a man . . . but I say she has been spared. Spared what I went through and what you will soon have to endure."
"Branka, you have given me such fear now. I must hope and believe that Murka might not be the monster Sharvur was with you in his bed. We are both young and can not say if all men are the same with these things. It is only certain to say that they all enjoy us in those ways. And never care about our feelings. I just hope and pray to the spirits of my ancestors that I do not have the same bad night you had as a first time with a man."
"Yes, Svetlana." She patted the hand on her shoulder in a sisterly way. "I, too, do not wish that for you."
The two girls embraced for a long moment. They were not certain how often, or if ever they would be able to see each other beyond that night. They sadly entered their respective rooms and awaited their evening meal. It would be like each other night, brought to them by the women who attended them.
* * *
The next morning the women came to escort Svetlana to her new home under the control of a new master. Murka's dwelling was on the top of a hill amid the tent city of the Pazyryk people. It was a massive affair of connecting tents of varying heights--all leather, and with straight poles placed deep in the ground to support them. Three soldiers were there at the entrance of the sprawling structure to greet the small entourage from Sharvur's palace. Murka had always been an important general in the king's forces and after having been announced publicly by Sharvur as a hero-now to be venerated even after death, his protection by soldiers was justified.
After it was declared to these warriors by the women attendants that Svetlana was now to be presented to her new master, one of the men took charge and opened the entrance of the complex. Svetlana followed him through a labyrinthine series of tents, ever climbing higher on the hill. Passing in and out of the various leather dwellings which housed cooking areas, storage rooms, some sections open to the sky, and what seemed to be closed sleeping quarters, she finally arrived at a large decorative tent. It was closed by a heavy curtain, dyed red and blue.
Immediately a woman came to the entrance. She was perhaps in her late twenties and though of a fair face, she had a body which expressed that she had bore children in her young life. She looked critically for several moments at Svetlana, seemingly to decide upon her approval or not. The buxom and youthful Svetlana kept very still, careful to not look too long or too curiously into the woman's eyes. Finally, the woman motioned for the soldier to leave and spoke to Svetlana in the Scythian tongue which she had by now only partially acquired.
"I am Dressa. The mother of Murka's two children."
She brushed her dark hair back with her fingers self-consciously, and stood a little more in a posed position before Svetlana.
"I know that you are to be Murka's slave now in this house. But you will answer to me about many things. I will tell you what you are allowed to do and what you must not do. Do you understand that?
Svetlana slowly nodded in resignation
"What did they call you in Sharvur's palace?"
"My name is Svetlana," she replied, still looking down. Her voice was subdued, and evermore depressed.
"And how old are you?"
"I will be eighteen this year when the snows arrive."
Dressa seemed to be looking carefully at her body now.
"And have you been with a man yet?"
Svetlana felt the answer to this question was of no right for the woman to know. And yet she realized that under her new circumstance, she had little rights and even fewer chances of making her own decisions about what to say and what to do.
"No," she finally answered with a mixture of pride and humiliation. "I am still a virgin."
"Well, that will change very soon," Dressa responded coldly. "Murka is a powerful man. And he enjoys his pleasures. You will be . . . at least for now, the object of his desires. I don't suggest you try to fight that."
Svetlana looked into the woman's eyes for the first time. They seemed so intense. So combative.
"I am the mother of Tourna and Zetur," she continued. "Murka's young children. And I am also deeply in love with him. If you do not please him in bed, as he wishes, you will have to deal with me."
Svetlana was shocked by this mandate and the woman's level of devotion and protection of Murka. There seemed no camaraderie to her as another female, only a seriously implied threat.
Svetlana looked away from her eyes. "I will do what ever is demanded of me," she told Dressa, humbly.
"And you will be wise to do so. . . for the sake of your own life."
At this curt and sobering introduction, Dressa opened the colourful tent flaps and led the way into the inner level of Murka's quarters. They passed by a room where an older couple sat contently on the floor, being fanned by on older woman who seemed herself a slave. It was perhaps the parents of Dressa or Murka, Svetlana surmised. In the next room she heard the laughter of children.
Stepping into this room with Dressa, Svetlana saw two beautiful children of ages three or four. They were a boy and a girl with angelic faces, well dressed. They each had long, well-groomed hair, and large innocent eyes. It had been almost a year since she had seen a child up so closely, and it made her smile as they both looked into her eyes and grinned openly.
"These are the Murka's little treasures," Dressa offered, tousling the hair of the boy. "A son and daughter. . . Zetur and Tourna."
Svetlana smiled back at the children and held out her arms for them to come to her. Dressa quickly stepped between them and motioned for her to move back towards the doorway.
She was then led down a long hall of covered space into what appeared to be the back room of the home. When Dressa pulled back the coverings of the entryway to this section, they encountered the robust Murka sitting on his colourful bed, surrounded by chest-high ceramic vases. His chest was bare to the waist and Svetlana could see what a perfect specimen of manhood he was at perhaps the age of twenty-five or thirty. The room was heady with the aroma of incense and he motioned for his mate and the new young slave to enter his bedchamber.
"This is your gift from Sharvur," Dressa said. Her voice was of a different and more suppliant tone.
"Yes, I can see," he said appearing lost in observing Svetlana, now framed in the doorway. "It is obvious our king is most generous," he added in his candid assessment of her.
"They call her Svetlana," Dressa offered. "She is of the Western people."
"And one of the most beautiful. Do you speak our language, Svetlana?
"Yes. But I am still learning it. From Mostok, my teacher"
"Ah, yes. Mostok. The king's cousin. An excellent young man."
Murka tried now not to stare at his new ravishng gift.
"So. You are to feel very welcome here in this home, Svetlana. My mate Dressa will be certain to see that you have your own quarters and that you learn the rules of my house."
"Yes," Svetlana, said, looking down. "She has already spoken of them to me."
"Very fine, then," Murka said.
Dressa interjected quite unexpectedly. "I will leave you now Svetlana. To discuss certain things with Murka. I trust you will come back to the children's room in good time so that I may show you your room and the bathing area."
The prospect of being left alone with Murka as he sat half naked on his bed was suddenly terrifying to her. She watched as Dressa stepped back and give a little bow of respect before leaving the room.
"Here now. Come closer . . ." Murka said to her. The command raised her heartbeat to what seemed a dizzying level, and Svetlana felt now as if she would faint from anxiety. She walked up closer to Murk's bed and stood, her legs beginning to tremble. She anxiously awaited what he would say or command her to do next.
"Well I can see that you are very innocent and lovely, Svetlana." He told her this in a soft, inviting voice. "And I am certain you have not yet been with any man in your life yet. Correct?"
She held her head down as in resigned affirmation.
"I know you will have fear of me. That is understandable . . . especially when I call for you to be here . . . with me alone at night."
Svetlana remained motionless. She then then slowly nodded.
"But you must understand that I have been with many women in my life. And I believe I understand your lot . . . maybe not completely. For no man does entirely." From those honest words she looked directl into her master's eyes. They suddenly seemed much kinder than she had imagined.
"When we begin our nights of pleasure, Svetlana, I will try to make your fears hide in the shadows of the mountain. I will seek my own pleasure only if I am sure it pleases you too. So you must not fear. Do you understand me?"
Svetlana was perplexed at these words. She did not believe a man was capable of such sensitivity.Aware of how she must have felt.
"Yes . . . I understand," she answered quietly.
"I will get no pleasure from our nights together . . . unless I know you are enjoying what we do as well. This will take time. But I am in no rush for you to learn everything. The joy will be in the learning. And you will find I am a great teacher of these pleasures."
Svetlana was moved and releived almost to tears. She could not have believed such benevolent words would come from this new master. It was all very different than what she feared and imagined-the trauma Branka had undergone with Sharvur. How could men be so different, she wondered?
Murka slowly got out of his bed and walked to the doorway. He turned and held out a hand to guide her out comfortably
"You are a lovely girl, Svetlana," he said in their parting. "Not yet a woman and no longer a child. I will teach you the joys there are to have between a man and a woman. Here in this room. And I would like you to think there is no better teacher." He smiled to himself with an expected male's pride.
"We will begin tomorrow evening," he added. "Now go to learn of your sleeping quarters and the rules of the house from Dressa."
Svetlana turned toward him and slightly bowed as she had seen Dressa do. As she passed through the doorway and moved into the tented hall she heard Murka's voice once more behind her.
"I am a man who believes in respect for all, and returns for good deeds, Svetlana. Our king Sharvur lives by this creed as well. It can exist between a king and his subjects . . . and between a master and his slave. I have witnessed it even on the battlefield. I expect the same from you as we become lovers. For I will treat you fairly and gently. I ask only that you return to me those pleasures I bring to you. Can you do this?"
"I will try . . ," she told him in a whisper, closing the tent behind her.
* * *