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I hated every man in that room。 I could see that each only pretended interest in his panion's conversation。 The laughter was false； the talk chattering bravado。 In reality all they could think of was Melina。 Their eyes kept flickering toward her； greedy； devouring。 The naked flesh of those lovely slaves was nothing to them。 Just as it had bee nothing to me。 I had eyes only for the flash of those gold limbs beneath the sheer material of Melina's costume； the red…tipped breasts and the red glint of henna between those silken thighs。 The nakedness of her women intensified my desire to glimpse more…much more…of Melina。
Then my heart stopped。 The hatred was forgotten。 Melina idly lifted her eyes。 They met mine。 I felt as if I had been struck by a heavy； padded club。 I had never in my life seen such dark mystery。 Those eyes were slightly bored at first； then I saw…or prayed I saw…a spark of interest。 Full； hennaed lips parted。 A pink tongue flicked across them。 She looked me up and down。 Leego came forward to refill her goblet； and I saw her whisper and point。 She was pointing at me！
I thought my heart would burst at such good fortune。 Then I began to worry。 Had I somehow bee ugly？ Had I been cursed with warty features by some witch hiding on the awful staircase？ Had a bat shit in my hair？ I reflexively touched my head and realized what had caught her interest。 It was my hair。 In those days； before the winter of age； my hair was as bright as an Evocator's torch。 I was one of the very few men and women in Orissa with red hair。 Until this moment it had mostly served as a source of humor to my friends； as had the pale skin that displayed my every emotion。 Leego whispered。 My name； I supposed。 She laughed。 I felt my skin turn the color of my hair。 I was mortified； sure that； once again； my hair had transformed me into a jest。
To cover my embarrassment； I turned to the slave girl and accepted the peach slice。 My mouth was so dry I could hardly chew； much less swallow。 Then the music stopped； as did the chattering voices of the men。 I heard the sweet sound of strings being plucked。 I turned back to see that Melina had raised herself into a sitting position。 In her soft lap was a lute。。 Her lovely fingers touched strings； and the most melodious sound emerged。 But it was nothing pared to her rich voice when she lifted it in song。
Melina sang a tale of long ago。 It was the story of a young courtesan； sold into the guild by her impoverished family。 The girl fell in love with a handsome captain； off to the wars。 He promised he would make her his wife when he returned。 But he died in battle。 The young hetaera grew in beauty and her skills were acclaimed。 Many men came to her doorstep with rich gifts and richer promises。 She gave herself to them； as was her duty； and accepted their gifts。 But there was not one she could ever love。 For there was that secret place only the handsome captain had ever touched； a place where no other man would ever be permitted to venture。
When the song was done I could barely hear the applause of the others。 I felt tears scalding my cheeks。 I ached for Melina and the torment she must be suffering。 For I immediately made her the heroine of that song。 And I burned with the need to fort her and take the place of that handsome captain。 As did every other man in the room。
Melina； as I have said； was wonderfully skilled。
Her charming smile of thanks singled each of us out。 She leaned forward as if to speak； and the room was silent。 Instead； a graceful arm stretched out。 A perfect finger pointed to Butala。 An old woman； draped in a rich red robe； emerged from the curtained entryway beside the statue。 She wore a golden； tasseled sash about her waist。 She was one of the hetaerae guild's Evocators。
〃Greetings； my lords；〃 she said in a voice oddly youthful for such withered cheeks。 〃All praise Butaia。〃
〃All praise Butala；〃 we responded in the traditional return chant。 〃May our loins be strong； and the wombs of our women fertile and deep。〃
I glanced over my shoulder and saw with great disappointment that Melina was gone。 The Evocator's words brought me back。 〃You gentlemen will be pleased to know I have just cast the bones； and the omens are favorable： tonight will be a most special evening。 Butala is pleased with the worthiness and piety of the gathering。 She has signaled to me she will permit Melina to reveal a sacred dance few have been fortunate enough to witness。〃
〃All praise Butala；〃 we all chanted。 The voices of the other men were as thick as mine。 The Evocator slapped her hands together。 The statue of Butala moved； a graceful swivel of the torso； arms splaying wide； head going back。 A rich； colored liquid spurted from the statue's breasts。 Two slave women ankled forward； burnished hips swaying。 They caught the liquid in a large golden bowl。 In a few moments it was brimming； and the twin fountains stopped。 The women passed among us； offering the bowl to each man。 When it came to me I obediently bent my head； smelling a thick； pleasing； musky odor。 I drank。 The liquid went down smooth and sweet； lighting a warm fire in my belly。 The warmth spread； and I felt my blood stir and all my senses snap into full； clear life。
Another clap from the Evocator； and a thick cloud of red smoke burst from the incense brazier。 It smelled of roses and violets； and my flesh tingled in anticipated pleasure。 The curtain of billowing silk parted。 We saw nothing in the dark alcove except stringed instruments and pipes abandoned on the floor by the never…seen musicians。
The Evocator clapped again。 〃Oh； beautiful Butala；〃 she intoned； 〃grant us music as sweet as your womb。〃 She crooked a finger at the instruments。 〃Play；〃 she manded。 We sat in gaping wonder as the instruments rose from the floor。 Pipes and harps and dulcimers alike swayed gracefully。 Two small gilded drums danced on either side。 Strings were plucked by invisible fingers。 Small； padded hammers coaxed beauteous sounds from the dulcimers。 Pipes fluted visions of woodland bowers。 Drams tat…tat…torted the rhythms of love。
Melina came out of the gloom like a ghost from the mountains of the gods。 Torches flared up on either side； lighted by invisible hands。 Her naked flesh shone pure gold。 We saw the startling perfection of her smooth body for so quick a moment one couldn't be sure it wasn't the sacred drink and our imaginations。 Suddenly Melina was covered from toe to crown with writhing shapes of many colors。 She stood quite still for one； two； then three heartbeats。 We saw images of men and women coupling； other figures in playful chase； women embracing other women as lovers； handsome boys doing the same； and wonderfully twisted binations of both sexes。 Melina turned in a slow pirouette； body alive with other scenes of living erotica。
The music shifted and Melina began to dance。 First a slow； swaying shuffle； hips rotating； arms weaving； long； firm legs moving gracefully。 Melina's dance quickened； as did the music and spirit forms at play on her body。 She kicked and twirled and shook her breasts and hips until I thought I would go mad with lust。 I felt the heat rise in the other men。 The room became stifling with our must。 When we could bear no more； Melina stopped。 She held a pose to make a sculptor weep。 The images were gone； and we could see her in all her glory。 My eyes fed on her like a starving man； on her lips； breasts； and smooth； shaved vulva outlined in henna。 Then the alcove went black。 We turned to look at one another； mouths dry； eyes aching in their sockets 。。。 our balls as hard as stones。
〃Well； gentlemen；〃 said that wondrous voice； 〃did I please you？〃 Our heads swiveled。 There； lounging on the couch； was Melina； dressed in pantaloons and jerkin as before。 Only a slight sheen coating her body hinted that she had danced that incredible dance。
〃All praise Butala；〃 we shouted。 The applause was deafening。 Men tumbled forward to praise her art。 There was a loud and constant jangling of coins and the clink of rare gems as gift after gift was flung at her feet。 Leego floated among the men； smiling； patting them on the back； and coaxing even more gifts。 I couldn't help myself。 I jumped to my feet； hands fumbling for the only gift I had： my father's fat purse of gold。 I muscled through the crowd around her； elbowing my petitors aside as if my strength were twice that of a normal man。 She lifted her eyes to meet mine and I stood before her。 I saw a glint of pleasure。 Sensuous lips curled in smile。 I dropped the purse on top of the other gifts。 The sound of its fall was pleasingly heavy。
〃Ah 。。。 it is my handsome young man with the fiery hair；〃 she said。 Her voice was warm and weling。 But her hot perfume rose to smite me dumb。 All I could do was nod。
〃Amalric Antero； it is not？〃 There was no music as lovely as my name upon those lips。
I bowed。 〃At your service； my lady；〃 I said。
She laughed at my stiff formality。 But it was not meant to be unpleasant。 Still； I flushed。 Melina's white； perfect teeth gleamed。 〃Oh； do please call me Melina。 All my gentlemen friends do。 My very close Mends； that is。〃 Her fingers touched my hand and I trembled at that touch。 〃And I can see as well as any diviner； young Amalric； you and I are destined