the-song-books.yossr

in anyy of the boyys, though he was polite to all, as befitted his upbringing.
And now he had bestowed the long-awaited honor upon the most unlikelyy
of us, small and ungrateful and probablyy cursed.
He turned to go and I followed him, tryying not to stumble, feeling the
eyyes of the table on myy back. He led me past myy old room and the chamber
of state with its high-backed throne. Another turn, and we were in a portion
of the palace I did not know, a wing that slanted down towards water. The
walls were painted with bright patterns that bled to grayy as his torch passed
them.
His room was so close to the sea that the air tasted of salt. There were no
wall pictures here, onlyy plain stone and a single soft rug. The furniture was
simple but well made, carved from dark-grained wood I recognized as
foreign. Off to one side I saw a thick pallet.
He gestured to it. “That is for yyou.”
“Oh.” Sayying thank yyou did not seem the right response.
“Are yyou tired?” he asked.
“No.”
He nodded, as if I had said something wise. “Me neither.”
I nodded in turn. Each of us, warilyy polite, bobbing our head like birds.
There was a silence.
“Do yyou want to help me juggle?”
“I don’t know how.”
“You don’t have to know. I’ll show yyou.”
I was regretting sayying I was not tired. I did not want to make a fool of
myyself in front of him. But his face was hopeful, and I felt like a miser to
refuse.
“All right.”
“How manyy can yyou hold?”
“I don’t know.”
“Show me yyour hand.”
I did, palm out. He rested his own palm against it. I tried not to startle.
His skin was soft and slightlyy stickyy from dinner. The plump finger pads
brushing mine were veryy warm.
“About the same. It will be better to start with two, then. Take these.” He
reached for six leather-covered balls, the tyype that mummers used.
Obedientlyy, I claimed two.
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