circlet off. You said itâs a sin â¦â
Rumata laughed happily, pulled the circlet off, put it on the table, and covered it with a book. âItâs the eye of God,â he said. âLet it be closed.â He lifted her up in his arms. âItâs very sinful, but when Iâm with you, I donât need God. Right?â
âRight,â she said very softly.
By the time they sat down to eat, the roast meat was cold, and the wine, which had been taken out of the icebox, was warm. Uno came by and, treading softly as he had been taught by old Muga, walked along the wall lighting lamps, though it was still light out.
âThis is your servant?â Kira asked.
âNo, heâs a free boy. A fine boy, only very stingy.â
âMoney doesnât grow on trees,â Uno observed without turning around.
âSo you still havenât bought new sheets?â asked Rumata.
âWhat for?â the boy asked. âThe old ones will do.â
âListen, Uno,â Rumata said. âI canât sleep an entire month on the same sheets.â
âHa,â the boy said. âHis Majesty does it for half a year without a murmur.â
âAnd the oil,â Rumata said, winking at Kira. âThe oil in the lamps. What is it, free?â
Uno stopped. âBut my master has a guest,â he finally said firmly.
âSee how he is!â said Rumata.
âHeâs nice,â Kira said seriously. âHe loves you. Letâs take him with us.â
âWeâll see,â Rumata said.
The boy asked suspiciously, âTake me where? Iâm not going anywhere.â
âWeâll go,â Kira said, âwhere all the people are like Don Rumata.â
The boy thought for a moment and said scornfully, âWhat, heaven for the highborn?â Then he snorted derisively and shuffled out of the study, dragging feet in battered shoes.
âA good boy,â she said. âGrumpy like a bear cub. Heâs a nice friend.â
âAll my friends are nice.â
âWhat about Baron Pampa?â
âHow do you know about him?â Rumata asked in surprise.
âYou never talk about anyone else. Thatâs all I ever hear aboutâBaron Pampa this and Baron Pampa that.â
âBaron Pampa is a very good friend.â
âHow can a baron be a good friend?â
âI mean that heâs a very good man. Very kind and merry. And very much in love with his wife.â
âIâd like to meet him. Or are you ashamed of me?â
âNo, Iâm not ashamed. Itâs just that heâs a good man, but heâs still a baron.â
âOh â¦â she said.
Rumata pushed his plate away. âDo tell me why you were crying. And why you came here alone. Is this the time to be running around the streets alone?â
âI couldnât manage at home. Iâll never go home. Can I be a servant here? For free.â
Rumata chuckled through the lump in his throat.
âFather copies confessions every day,â she continued with quiet desperation. âAnd the paper they are written on is all covered in blood. He gets them at the Merry Tower. Oh, why did you ever teach me to read? Every evening, every evening ⦠copying transcripts of torturesâand drinking. So awful, so awful! âYou know,â he says, âKira, our neighbor the calligrapher taught people to write. Who do you think he is? He revealed during torture that heâs a wizard and Irukanian spy. Who,â he says, âam I supposed to believe now? I learned to write from him myself,â he says. And my brother comes home from the patrol more drunk than beer itself, hands covered in dried blood. âWeâll kill them all,â he says, âuntil the twelfth generation.â He interrogates father about why heâs literate ⦠Today, he and his buddies dragged some man into the house. They beat him up, splattered
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