Wind, harsh and arid buffeted against the walls of the great tent. She saw from the back of her horse the colors that brightly decorated the tent along its upper mantle. Sparse evidence of trees dotted the nearby landscape and a stone well stood strongly within a few hundred strides of the largest of the tents.
Despite the zeal of the hot, sandy winds, Victoria sat upon her mount with an air of ease. The heavier dresses she was accustomed to had been set aside in the moment she stepped foot within the lands of sand. Layers upon layers of cloth were worn by her that flowed without the restriction of a corset about her waist. Soft boots of light leather were worn instead of heeled, thicker ones or gentler silk slippers. And the blondness of her hair was covered with cloth and a veil sat with its hem over the bridge of her nose to flow down passed the delicate line of her jaw.
Ileste DuLanke, handmaid and servant to the Courtesan, was already sliding down from her saddle. Ungloved hands arranged her own skirts briefly and sought out the back of her upturned hair to see that it was still secured by a plain, silver comb. A look full of curious worry flickered about as men rushed to see to the horses and all the packs carried, and then saw her way that short distance towards her Lady.
Victoria Helmshaw, a lady of leisure some called her but a Courtesan by more serious profession, glanced from the closed tent down to her handmaid. ?If it gets any hotter here, I fear that I shall melt away, Ileste.? Two men dressed in the garb of dessert men flanked the women than and offered their bare hands to the Lady. Victoria leaned forward and allowed them to ease her from the back of the horse to stand on the uneven sands between them. Then the men slipped away to see to other things.
Ileste leaned in against her Lady, not too much as it was far too hot to be this close to anyone at all, and whispered for her to hear alone. ?My Lady, I fear more of why this one that has had you brought here.?
The Courtesan said nothing in reply or return to the young woman that had been in her service for several years now. Instead, a brief touch of her hand met with Ileste?s arm just beneath the bend of her elbow then turned herself back in the direction of the large tent. Upon the motioning from a man that bore all of his hair in the palest cloth of white and his skin as dark as mahogany, Victoria paused long enough to see the panels of the tent that seemed a door for it were opened before she made her way inside.
It shocked her how immediately, the difference in temperatures from one step to the other; from outside to inside. Somewhere, not far behind her, she could hear a soft gasp elicited from Ileste. Surely the girl had noticed the same. No matter how much cooler it felt within the tent, Victoria saw that there were carpets, oil lamps, and braziers. But that was not all that was seen.
Despite the zeal of the hot, sandy winds, Victoria sat upon her mount with an air of ease. The heavier dresses she was accustomed to had been set aside in the moment she stepped foot within the lands of sand. Layers upon layers of cloth were worn by her that flowed without the restriction of a corset about her waist. Soft boots of light leather were worn instead of heeled, thicker ones or gentler silk slippers. And the blondness of her hair was covered with cloth and a veil sat with its hem over the bridge of her nose to flow down passed the delicate line of her jaw.
Ileste DuLanke, handmaid and servant to the Courtesan, was already sliding down from her saddle. Ungloved hands arranged her own skirts briefly and sought out the back of her upturned hair to see that it was still secured by a plain, silver comb. A look full of curious worry flickered about as men rushed to see to the horses and all the packs carried, and then saw her way that short distance towards her Lady.
Victoria Helmshaw, a lady of leisure some called her but a Courtesan by more serious profession, glanced from the closed tent down to her handmaid. ?If it gets any hotter here, I fear that I shall melt away, Ileste.? Two men dressed in the garb of dessert men flanked the women than and offered their bare hands to the Lady. Victoria leaned forward and allowed them to ease her from the back of the horse to stand on the uneven sands between them. Then the men slipped away to see to other things.
Ileste leaned in against her Lady, not too much as it was far too hot to be this close to anyone at all, and whispered for her to hear alone. ?My Lady, I fear more of why this one that has had you brought here.?
The Courtesan said nothing in reply or return to the young woman that had been in her service for several years now. Instead, a brief touch of her hand met with Ileste?s arm just beneath the bend of her elbow then turned herself back in the direction of the large tent. Upon the motioning from a man that bore all of his hair in the palest cloth of white and his skin as dark as mahogany, Victoria paused long enough to see the panels of the tent that seemed a door for it were opened before she made her way inside.
It shocked her how immediately, the difference in temperatures from one step to the other; from outside to inside. Somewhere, not far behind her, she could hear a soft gasp elicited from Ileste. Surely the girl had noticed the same. No matter how much cooler it felt within the tent, Victoria saw that there were carpets, oil lamps, and braziers. But that was not all that was seen.