The next morning, Ziva stepped into a small carriage. Com helped her tuck her skirts around her feet.

“You remember what your father said, don’t you? You will listen to me. If I say we must leave now, do not argue. My job is to keep you safe.”

Com stared at her until she nodded her head. “Yes, Com, I will listen.”

“Be certain you do,” he huffed as he closed the carriage door.

I have to listen, if I want to do this again. I hope we have no problems. Ziva scooted close to the window and gazed out at the trees and walls that surrounded the houses lining the streets, hoping to keep out those who would rob and steal. She wondered why people would want to steal from others.

They passed out of the wealthy section of the city where she lived into other sections with smaller, houses without walls, and on into the market. The road became busier, full of other carriages, people on horseback, and others wending their way between horses and wheeled vehicles, as they moved closer to the market.

Finally, the carriage slowed and stopped. Ziva knew better than to leap from within its sanctuary. She leaned back in the seat, her hands folded in her lap. Only the tiny movement of a bouncing foot betrayed her impatience.

The carriage door opened and Com held out his hand to help her step from its depths. They had reached the door to Korm’s fabric shop and Tawna stood in the doorway.

Before Ziva could scurry to greet her, Com grasped the hand he held and pulled her close. “Remember, I am here to ensure your safety. Do not do anything rash.” The cold in his dark eyes caused her to shiver.

“No, Com. I will listen to you.”

With that, he released her hand and she hurried to her friend’s side. Tawna embraced her briefly and the two young women entered the shop as the carriage rolled away from the entrance. Com followed her inside and stood watching from beside the door.

“I never believed your father would allow you out of your house,” Tawna said. “How did you manage?”

“I told him I need a new dress for Roven’s party. He knows I hate parties. I told him I’d go without complaint if he let me come here today. He was happy to allow me to choose fabric for a new dress.”

Tawna raised her eyebrows. “Your father was happy to let you come here?”

Ziva twisted her mouth to the side. “Well, not happy. I had to bring Com,” her eyes darted toward the quiet man by the door, “and listen to everything he tells me. Father sees danger for me everywhere.”

“Your father is overprotective. There is no danger in my father’s shop.”

“I know. Which fabric should I choose?” Ziva moved to the stacks of beautiful fabric.

The girls wandered around the shop. Tawna pointed out fabrics she thought would look good on her friend, while Ziva fingered them and pulled a few from the shelf. Some she brought to her face to feel the soft texture.

A bell above the door tinkled and the girls looked up to see their other friend, Kara, breeze through the entrance. Tawna rushed to greet her while Ziva carefully set her armload of fabrics on top of the others before turning to her friend.

“How ever did you manage to escape the close watch of Orak?” Kara gushed. “I have not seen you outside that big, beautiful home since you moved in.”

“I begged. I cried. I pouted.”

“You?” Tawna and Kara chorused, their eyes wide.

“Not really,” Ziva laughed. “But I did beg. I must have said something right, for I am here.”

“With your watchdog,” Tawna murmured, her eyes darting to Com.

“If he had not come with me, I would not be here. I’m happy he would come.” Ziva turned back to the pile of fabrics. “Which one should I buy?”

The girls wandered through the stacks of beautiful fabrics, laughing and gossiping. Kara suggested a bright orange, but Ziva shook her head. Tawna pointed to a deep burgundy. After a heartbeat of thought, Ziva shrugged it away. After looking at all the lovely, soft fabrics, Ziva had reduced the stack to four: a dark golden fabric with swirls patterning across it in lighter shades, a light orchid covered with diamonds of deeper purple, a pale green, and a dark blue.

“Which looks best?” Ziva held each fabric near her face.

Tawna gazed into her face. “They are all lovely against your pale skin and blond hair.”

“I like the green. It contrasts with your eyes,” Kara said.

“It is pretty. The gold looks nice with your hair, too,” Tawna said.

“I am wearing a bright yellow. Shall we dress in similar colors?” Kara spun a long curl around her finger.

“My dress is orange,” Tawna said.

“Then, no. We should choose our own colors. Look different.” Ziva returned to her decision. She set the gold aside. The orchid soon joined it. “Green or blue? Hmmm. Com?” Ziva turned toward the man towering beside the door. “Which would you choose? Green or blue?”

“Me? You want me to give my opinion? About fabric? Never,” the big man growled and folded his arms across his chest.

The girls tittered. Ziva held the last two against her face. “I think I like the blue. My eyes are blue. And, I like the feel of it better.”

“That dark blue?” Kara gasped. “It is so sedate, almost matronly. No young man will look at you in that.”

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“Then it is the fabric for me. Tawna, will you help me with the purchase?”

Tawna took the bolt of fabric from her friend and carried it to the back room. When she returned, she carried a bag, heavy with the fabric. “I will have one of the boys take it to your carriage.”

“Thank you.” Ziva ducked her head. “I do not know if I brought enough coin.”

“My father put it on your father’s account. Do not worry. We will be paid.” Tawna touched her friend on the arm. “You don’t do this often, do you?”

“No.” Ziva brushed away the sparkling tears from her eyes.

“Let’s go into the market, now,” Kara whined. “I want a treat.”

Ziva looked to Com. “May I?”

The big, dark man drew his eyebrows close. “Wait here, I will check the streets.”

The girls watched him slip out the door.

Com returned and signaled. “You may go but listen to me. If I say we must leave, we must leave immediately.”

Ziva glanced into his eyes and saw his concern. “Yes, Com, I will.”

The girls left the shop and walked, with arms linked, into the market, gossiping about the party, and other things.

“Mmm, nice looking man there,” Kara ogled.

“Where?” Ziva asked. She followed Kara’s eyes to see a slave, wearing only a thin rag wrapped around his waist. “Oh.” She felt her face redden.

“He is not for us,” Tawna said, pulling them along. “Now, he is.”

“Which one?” Ziva asked.

“The gentleman standing by the jewelers stand.”

The tall, well-dressed man bent over a necklace, dangling with jewels and reflecting the light.

“Yum.” Kara licked her lips.

The girls giggled and continued on. A vendor passed carrying meat pies. Kara stopped him and purchased three, handing one to each of her friends. They ate the pies as they walked, laughing and talking.

A shout from the crowd caused them to look around. A boy pushed through the crowd with a man chasing him. The boy shoved himself between the girls and raced on through the crowd.

Suddenly, Com stood beside Ziva. “We must go. Now.” Ziva looked into his eyes and saw danger.

She grabbed Tawna by the arm. “Come with us.”

“No. We are safe. You go,” Tawna said, pushing her away.

Com grabbed her by the elbow and rushed her around a corner, down a busy street, and around several other corners and down streets until they arrived at the place where their carriage stood behind Korm’s shop. Ziva bent to set her hands on her knees and sucked in huge, gasping breaths. Com’s breath seemed normal.

“Get in, quickly,” Com ordered.

Ziva stumbled as she stepped into the carriage, falling onto the seat as the carriage moved. In no time, they were racing down the street and out of the market. The driver shouted and cursed as people rushed to get out of the way of the thundering horses hooves. Ziva held on to the strap on the side, trying to stay upright.

Eventually, they slowed, though the carriage did not return to the leisurely pace of their ride to the market. Soon, it drew to a stop in front of Ziva’s door.

Ziva brushed her hair back into place with her hands. When Com opened her door, she asked, “What was that about? It was only a boy.”

“The boy was a distraction. You did not see the men chasing us. They wanted to take you.”

“Take me? Why?”

“Your father would pay them a hefty price to free you, or so they think.”

Ziva brought her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp. “Oh. I didn’t know. Thank you for saving me.”

Com nodded and ushered her inside. “Perhaps you will be happy now to stay here, in the safety of your father’s house.”

Ziva nodded.

~ ~ ~

Nat stepped into the pantry, searching for ginger root. He stretched his back. Cook’s helper seemed to be a big promotion, but it wasn’t as wonderful as he had dreamed. Released earlier from the work, he rested in the evenings and no longer crawled into the huge kettles to scrub them clean.

Freedom to rest at the end of the day was counterbalanced by the requirement to wake early in the morning, for Cook prepared all the meals, including the morning meal. He required Nat’s assistance—mostly for running back and forth to the pantry, like now, to retrieve ingredients for the many dishes presented to Qinten each meal. Thankfully, he was not also required to run for Baker. He’d never stop if he had to run for both of them.

By now, the pantry had become familiar. Nat found most of the required ingredients with little effort. Ginger root was new. He looked on the bottom shelf and found the tangy smelling root in a basket. Cook needed three. He found the best looking three in the basket and hurried back to the kitchen. Cook directed him to wash and peel the funny looking roots, then chop them for the dish he was making.

Nat found a small, sharp knife and began to work on the ginger. He knew he would need to work quickly, for Cook would need the ginger soon, and would think of something new to send him for.

Nat had been surprised that first day—was it only a month ago? — when Gowdy sent him from the cleaning scullery to the kitchen. Cook had simply said, “I need a new helper. You will do as I say.”

Nat had nodded and was immediately put to work running to the pantry for vegetables, fruits, and any other ingredient Cook decided he needed. Additionally, he helped peel, cut, and chop, as he did now with the ginger. Nat was careful and quick and Cook was pleased with his work. Cook didn’t say much to him, beyond short instructions: “Ginger, wash, peel, and chop finely.”

He was used to working without extra instructions. He had been expected to speedily understand and complete his assignments without asking many questions by all his previous owners. Of course, he was required to ask questions in the beginning, but he learned easily and soon discerned many of Cook’s needs before he uttered a request. Cook was learning to depend on Nat, and Nat liked that trust.

The ginger was finely chopped and passed on to Cook, who nodded, too busy for further interactions. Nat hurried to the pantry for the carrots and celery Cook would need next.

Drak stepped from behind the door, blocking Nat’s way.

“Hello, Drak. Haven’t seen you for a while.”

“No? I’ve been here, turning the spit at the fire,” Drak said in a surly voice.

“I have not been near the spit. Cook keeps me busy elsewhere.” Nat kept his voice carefully neutral.

“Kenji and Min are gone. Sold to a slaver.”

“I am sorry, Drak. They were your friends.” Nat tried to sound more concerned than he was.

Drak rubbed his forehead. “Kenji never was beat like that before. How did you do it?”

“Got me an equalizer. I was smaller than Kenji. Knew he would hurt me bad if he could. So I got a walking stick and equalized things between us.”

“Yeah, you sure did. Guess I’m glad you did.” Drak stepped aside to allow Nat passage through the door and into the pantry, following him in.

“Glad? How so?” Nat frowned.

“Less trouble with Cook. I’m where I belong, not runnin’ after Kenji.”

Nat felt a bit of a smile attach itself to his face. “You aren’t angry?”

“Nah.” Drak stuck his hand out.

Nat slowly put his now larger hand into Drak’s.

“Thanks,” Drak said.

Nat’s smile grew. “Do you need something from the pantry, too?”

“A side of beef. Sounds like there will be extras for dinner tonight. Unexpected, so I have to get it ready fast.” Drak walked to the cooler back of the pantry where the meat was kept. Nat heard him lift a good-sized slab off the hook and sling it over his shoulder.

He reached into the baskets and grabbed his needed vegetables, holding the door and following Drak from the pantry. Nat noticed raised eyebrows and open mouths from other kitchen workers.

“Did they expect us to fight?” he quietly asked Drak.

Drak looked around. “Must have. Disappointed them, huh?” A broad smile crossed his face, then he laughed. Nat joined in, surprising the others who expected a war from them