A Touch of Color

originally posted October 11, 2006

"I like that one," Ares, the guardsman, informed me.
This did not surprise me. Ares, like myself, found all sorts of women of various shapes, sizes and tones to his liking. Of course, I had no idea just whom he might be speaking of. In these situations. It is best to ask.
"Which was that, then?" I asked.
"Yellow silk. With the dark skin," he clarified.
That certainly narrowed things down a bit. Another girl had worn yellow silk on the coffle at one point, but she was rather pale of skin and only wore the garment for a short duration. Mostly during our stay in Thentis at the House of Clark of Thentis.
"Portia, then," I nodded. "Right. She's a lovely whore. Nice legs."
He then made a comment about how her legs could not help being well-formed, lovely even, as they had , in his estimation, the enviable duty of holding up her backside. I do not think he is misinformed in that assessment for the record.
"You may have her when you like, of course," I mentioned casually.
It is wise to be on good terms, amiable terms even, with the guardsman that regularly patrol one's own neighborhood. I do not think there will be an issue with him monopolizing her time. I am a bit of a scandal. People well know why the Poet Szol owns such a large and varied necklace of women. Many of them are offered up for public consumption at three copper tarsks per ahn - four for the blonde. It would not do to have one of the busier sluts in the stable constantly on her back doing pro bono work. At any rate, she, like the others, has been recorded in the logbooks and memories of the guardsmen assigned to the District of the Theater of Pentilicus Tallux. They know where she is permitted to wander and where she is not permitted to wander. At the end of her workday, if she happens to be closer to the Theater District than the Anbar, she is permitted, like the others, to find the furs of the Great Room of Samsara.
I visited the park last evening, thinking it might be nice to enjoy a drink out of doors in the company of a few women that I own. The aforementioned Portia was one. The other was Elise. Definitely a nice contrast, an elaboration on the variety of the female form. I instructed Elise in the maintenance of Portia's hair. It is not a complicated business, truly, and I take pleasure in keeping up her appearance myself, but it was also enjoyable to watch another of the girls I own tend to her.
The park had, as it often does, a variety of colorful people seeking the same sort of relaxation I sought. A fellow told stories for a nominal fee, weaving what seemed to be tales of both accurate and sometimes dubious historical detail. With the good, of course, comes the bad. Another wandered around drunk and without control of his faculties.
"I need a slave!"
"Who has a slave for sale?"
He stumbled about, tripping often, making a nuisance of himself. I limited myself to just one cup of wine last night. Another less favorable element was a filthy free woman, claiming, incredulously enough, to have once been of the Caste of Physicians. It was a preposterous claim, of course, as she lacked both the mien and intelligence for such a lofty caste. Her accent, in my estimation, would have put her in the range of a much humbler caste. Perhaps her father was of the Weavers or Carders. He was not, I am certain, of the Physicians. The daughter of a Physician, let alone a woman who attained the right to practice medicine herself, would not have such a lack of civic pride, let alone propriety. Suffice it to say, I considered dealing with her myself as she was rather unruly and out of control herself. In the end, I chose to leave others to pick up after her. She would do well to stay clear of my path in the future.