"I can clean myself," Kengetar grunted. "I'm not a baby." He threw one leg into the tub, giving Melody an eyeful. Kengetar waved away the slaves and resumed scrubbing and splashing. He could get himself clean enough without being mothered by his captor. The change in attitude and influx of new people was catching him off his guard, he realized. He had to somehow regain control of the situation's flow or he would be in big trouble, he decided. He switched legs. Once he finished washing himself, he stood and turned his head to look at Melody. Gazing through the veil of dark hair that was plastered to his face by wetness, he gave the impression of an animal lurking between brambles.

"There," he said. "What now?"