Joust by Mercedes Lackey Page B

a great dragon, wings spread. There was no doubt that the dragon was meant to be Kashet, for it had his coloring.
    These were paintings that, if Vetch was any judge, were worthy of a palace. Yet there were few other signs of luxury; in the main chamber, nothing much ornamental but that truly handsome alabaster lamp made in the shape of three latas flowers, each of which would hold oil and a floating wick. In the bedchamber, only what Vetch had found, no jewelry chest, only another fine lamp. There wasn’t even a board for hounds and hares, or the pebble game, which adorned nearly every other home Vetch had ever seen.
    It seemed strange to Vetch that one as exalted in rank as a Jouster should live in quarters that were furnished more simply than Khefti’s—but at least that made it easier to clean them.
    He started with the bathing room; it was much like the one where Haraket had ordered him to strip down. Since mud brick would fare poorly around water, it was faced and floored with limestone, with jars of water and dippers, and on a limestone shelf, jars of soaps and oils, sponges. There was a bench upon which one could lie to be massaged by an attendant. Another shelf held folded piles of soft linen cloths, and two of those were crumpled on the floor. Vetch picked them up and set them outside the door.
    A Jouster also apparently had his choice of scented unguents when he was clean; there was quite a selection of clay and stone unguent jars lined up on another shelf above that massage bench, though truth to tell, most of them looked unopened.
    Well, if Ari chose to live simply, that just made it easier to take care of his things. Vetch got a broom from the storage closet and swept out the bathing room, for with the kamiseen blowing, there was sand in everything, and there was no point in doing more than to try to keep it under control. He then used one of the jars of water to wash down the floor for good measure. For a moment he wondered if he should use the water of the pool to refill the jars—but that seemed dubious. He thought he remembered a well nearby, in the passageway, in fact, so that it was handy to two of the courtyards, and sheltered from the sand-laden wind.
    He had recalled correctly, and went through the all-too-familiar ritual of hauling water. Only this time it was with a bucket that suited his size, and he only had to refill the bath jars and two smaller ones that held drinking water.
    Then he swept up the bedroom, collecting a discarded kilt and loincloth as he did so, and adding them to the pile of linen towels. The outer room was already tidied, so he swept it before turning his attention to the lamps, refilling their oil reservoirs from one of the jars in the storage room. As his last task, he went insect hunting, looking in every nook and cranny, under every bit of furniture, lifting every jar and chest, looking for the insects that often sought shelter there. Most especially he looked for scorpions, those deadly and silent desert creatures, which could hide almost anywhere. He finally found a little one in the bathing room, and smashed it with the butt of the broom before washing it down the drain with a cup of water.
    He was standing in the middle of the now-clean outer room with a bundle of Ari’s soiled linen in his hands wondering what to do with it when Haraket came for him again. “Put those there,” the overseer said, pointing to a basket just outside the door. “Someone collects dirty clothing and linen once a day to take it to the laundry women.”
    He nodded; well, at least he wasn’t going to be expected to do the laundry, too! “Is there anything else I should do?” he ventured diffidently. It would have choked him to have asked Te-Velethat for further instruction, but he trusted Haraket to tell him the truth.
    Haraket gave a brief inspection of his work, and shook his head. “Just what you’ve done, and this will be a part of your duties every day. The courtyard servants are