Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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one in the world knows better than a boy your age…Hands, feet, hands … Now the climax, the most
dramatic part, though not the hardest as people thought, he saw the mark on the floor, spin, fall—slide.
The musicians' strings pulled him, stop.Beat-sticks ticking, throw back the head, let the hair trail
gracefully on the marble floor . Silence.
He knew he'd done it the best he'd ever done it.
They got up to bow, and now he was allowed to have his head up, he saw the audience. The governor
of Korsardiana was sitting in the chair of honor, next to Master Nuninibas. Tikas knelt at his feet. Rasas
smiled, in pride, in triumph, in the joy of skill.
"Rasas." Tikas's voice. Called, he cast his eyes down at the green marble of the dais, the edge of the
Master's sandals and his toes, Tikas's blue silk loincloth. He stepped gracefully. He was sweaty, but must
not show it…Oh no . The fringe of his loin-cloth was stuck to his legs, the satin pulling, not hanging
elegantly.Celestialis… What'll the governor think? Maybe he and Master won't notice. But if I
twitch it free they will for sure. But maybe if I do it real sneakily… no, they'll notice, what do I do
? He kept walking towards them, he had to.My humble Slave God , he prayed,keep Master from
noticing, so he won't mention it to Tikas, and I won't get whipped . Temonen household boys must
be perfect.If only Tikas sees, I'll just get scolded . He was there; he knelt, and then the loincloth didn't
matter. He bowed all the way to the floor, first to Master, then to his honored guest. The governor's
sandals were gilded, the nails on his toes thick and knobbly.
Now, he was allowed to look at the governor's face, being a pleasure-boy. The face was
bread-loaf-shaped, eyes like grey glass beads with blue around the edges, set in folded pink dough. His
hands were big and fat in white gloves. He was ugly. Rasas smiled and batted his eyes.
The governor looked him up and down, the eyes not changing, like beads.Ithink that's another sign of
nobility , Rasas thought,glass eyes that don't look at your face . He nodded and turned away talking
about grown-up noble things to another lord.
"Time to shower, dear," Tikas whispered. He had to be clean.
In the little room the boy stood in front of the governor, who lay in the scented cushions. The boy
dimmed the lamp, took his gloves off, knelt and unlaced the sandals, massaging away the marks on the
man's toes. Calluses were scratchy. The man's stomach hung over his belt in a big fold; he'd been
sweating a lot in the cracks. The boy unbuckled the man's kilt, ermine-fur soft on his fingers. He smelled
of old perfume and sour wine, oysters on his breath.Pull the gloves off one finger at a time. Draw it
out, tease him as long as he lets you. They enjoy it more that way in the end . His bread-loaf face
smiled, except for his bead-eyes, though they were brighter. His palms were wet.
He pulled the boy into his arms, rubbed against him for a while, then pushed down his head.If he's ugly ,
Tikas said,pretend it's me. Even though I'm not there, I'll feel it, I will, wherever I am. It's for me
you're doing it . Rasas did it for Tikas. It was hard though; Tikas at least bathed twice a day.
Then the Governor yanked him up, a grin stretching his doughy face, and clamped a wide hand over his
mouth and nose.Give them what they want, always , Tikas would say,even if it is your death-throes;
die gracefully …
He'd get through this. He had before. It wasn't as bad as it had been; when he'd been little, he hadn't