"He's a male." Gabriel looked at Amon, then spoke to Aristotle with a faint note of displeasure.
Aristotle answered with a smile, "He's still an underage child, which meets your requirement. My lady, you've seen it for yourself — in this town it's simply too hard to find a person with no dust in his hair and no mud under his nails. He was the only one I could find. And there is one more thing I must tell you: this child is the miner who dug out the Tears of the Gods. Without a pure heart, and the favor of goddess Isis, could anyone have welcomed the descent of the Tears of the Gods?"
Gabriel said, "Oh," her tone softening a good deal. "I heard the argument at the other end of town, and I know who you brought along. So the godstone this boy mined is the Tears of the Gods — and he nearly got punished by the priest here."
Aristotle nodded. "Yes... So, may the child stay?"
Amon raised his head and glanced at Gabriel, and found the warrior woman staring at his face, her gaze carrying a sharp, piercing force; the instant their eyes met, he could not help lowering his head. This lady was beautiful — the most beautiful woman Amon had ever seen — yet he felt that her upright figure held a surging tension, an illusion that it might push a person away without any motion at all. The first impression she gave was not her beauty but her majesty.
Gabriel: "Amon, you may stay. In a little while, go with the maid and change your clothes. Your work is very simple: you will be responsible for arranging Lady Maria's meals, her daily routine and her utensils. ...
Mm, you're a child, but you must pay attention all the same: when you hand something over, you may not touch Lady Maria. When Lady Maria washes or rests, you must keep out of the way, and you must not make a sound. ...
And one more thing: everything you hear and see here, you may not speak a single word of to anyone! Otherwise you will be punished."
It was the first time she had met Amon, yet she called him by name, and her demands on him were even stricter than the temple's rules. Although Amon was still an underage boy, she warned him he must not touch Maria or he would be punished — though she did not say how. And Maria, upstairs, had heard all of it.
After scaring Amon with a few words, Gabriel had the maid lead him off to change, because Amon's clothes were clean but badly worn. There was another reason Gabriel wanted to find a local to serve Maria: she did not want anyone to know that Maria was studying the divine art. The ignorant folk of Duke Town could hardly spread such things, but Rod-Dick's attendants were another matter.
Right up until he met Maria, Gabriel had been the most beautiful woman Amon had ever seen. But at the sight of Maria, Amon praised her from the bottom of his heart as surely the most beautiful woman in the world. The moment he saw her he even lost his focus for an instant, and bowed without thinking: "Greetings, honored Lady Maria. I am the servant sent to attend you. My name is Amon."
Maria was about Amon's age — two years older than him at most — and about as tall as he was, yet Amon had to call her Lady Maria. Her hair was light brown, with a soft amber sheen, falling over her shoulders in slight curls. Her eyes were light brown too, touched with a hint of blue, like stars in the night sky, or like the water of a clear pool.
"So you're the miner who welcomed the descent of the Tears of the Gods? Praise be to goddess Isis — and I should thank you as well!" As Maria spoke, she looked straight into Amon's eyes the whole time, her gaze calm and gentle, doing her best to keep her composure and ease, yet unable to hide a trace of curiosity.
This left Amon somewhat uneasy, and he lowered his head out of habit. Her features were lovely, lovely as a hazy imagining in a dream — especially her eyes. With his head down, Amon could not help blushing a little, and thought to himself: Duke Town has never had a girl like this. Why does she keep looking into my eyes? She's a girl about my age, really — I just might not be afraid to look her straight in the eye.
Amon's work was simple: prepare the utensils Maria needed for her meals and daily life, carry them up to the sitting room on the second floor, and once Maria was done, clear them away and hand them to the other servants. Maria's three meals a day, for instance, were all brought before her by Amon. Maria did not eat much — less than a third of Amon's own appetite — but there was a great deal to prepare.
The various silver dishes and utensils were set out on a small table. Amon had to wash his hands spotlessly clean, then cut the food into portions, laying the small knife and the soup spoon in their prescribed places. The silver jug of goat's milk, the cup for water, and the little dishes of salt and spices went at the left and right edges of the table respectively. The table had to be set down steadily, facing Maria's place at the table, without a sound — and certainly without spilling goat's milk or soup onto it.
That table, with everything on it, was quite heavy. To carry such a table steadily up to the second floor and set it down without the slightest noise was no easy thing for an ordinary fourteen-year-old boy. But Amon could already handle the heavy mining hammer to extract godstone; to him it was effortless.
When Maria ate, she made almost no sound, and the utensils rarely clinked against each other; she was quiet and seemed very well bred. Amon stood bowed at the side, waiting; when she had finished he carried the table away, then brought water for washing her face and rinsing her mouth, and withdrew; once Maria had finished washing, he came back in to take the water vessels away, then stood on the stairs awaiting her summons.
As a holy maiden, had she been at the Isis Temple, she could have had clouds of servants if she wanted. But Maria was in Duke Town, and the servant directly in charge of her food, drink and daily utensils was, for now, Amon alone.
At mealtimes Amon spent the longest stretch of time with Maria. Amon, who had grown up in Duke Town since childhood, had never seen anyone whose body and clothes were so clean. Perhaps "clean" was not quite the right word for Maria — what she gave off was a kind of purity.
If Maria did not ask him anything, Amon could not speak; but in the pauses of the meal, after a sip of water or goat's milk, Maria often asked him questions — about Duke Town, about how the miners extracted godstone, and the like. She was curious about those things too.
Amon answered carefully, and he noticed that Maria seemed to have a habit: when she spoke, she naturally looked straight into his eyes, the corners of her lips slightly lifted, a gentle smile hovering there. It made Amon a little uncomfortable; his heartbeat grew uneven, and he did not even know where to put his hands.
She's beautiful, and I'd love to look at her — so why don't I dare? Her gaze isn't frightening at all. Why am I afraid? Amon said to himself, and even felt a trace of inexplicable gloom.
Amon had no way of knowing that Maria had never had this habit before, and was doing it now on Gabriel's instructions. While teaching her the divine art, Gabriel had also admonished her —
"Lady Maria, you are pure, and that is precisely a holy maiden's quality. But you are still too young, and you seem overly meek. As a proper holy maiden, what you guard is the dignity of goddess Isis; you must never give anyone a sense of timidity. From now on, there is one thing you must attend to: whenever you speak with anyone, look them straight in the eye.
Your gaze must be serene, but without a trace of shrinking or evasion — like the goddess gazing upon her people. Whether it is princes and nobles or slaves and commoners, when you question them you must look into their eyes like this. Only then are you a holy maiden. No one will dare to slight you; under your gaze they will feel the compassion of the great goddess Isis."
But there was almost no one else around Maria for her to "practice" on. The most suitable subject was Amon, and poor Amon had no idea of any of it; Maria's gaze left him utterly at a loss. Amon did not know Maria's identity; even if someone had told him, he would not have known what the guardian holy maiden of the Isis Temple was. He only knew that Maria was an exalted noble, that he must address her as Lady Maria, and that he must not offend her.
Did one glance at this beautiful girl, meeting the gaze she fixed on him, count as an offense? Old Madman had never spoken of such a thing, and his drunkard father was even less likely to tell him. It shouldn't count, surely — she's the one looking at me! That was what Amon thought, and at the same time he felt that his flustered, helpless heartbeat was a disgrace. How could I be so pathetic?
Fortunately, beyond that there was nothing else unsettling. This job at one gold coin a day seemed quite easy — but on the very first night there was a small mishap.
At the time Amon had already fallen asleep on the boards beneath the staircase, dreaming a very hazy dream. In the dream Maria looked at him, and he looked at Maria, with that same look in his eyes. The feeling was strange, like just after bathing in the cold spring of the Black Fire Thicket and sitting by the pool to rest.
Just then Amon suddenly heard a cry of alarm — not loud, deliberately suppressed so that it was not too shrill, but plainly full of fear. It was Maria's voice, coming from the room on the second floor. Amon sprang up at once. Still muddled with sleep, he forgot for a moment that he was not at home, and his head cracked against the boards under the staircase, hurting sharply.
But Amon had no time to care about that. He darted out from under the stairs, put a hand on the wooden railing and vaulted up, took the stairs two or three at a time, rushed through the sitting room, and came to the door of Maria's bedroom.