9: The Iron Temple (7 page)

John remembered the young plump woman who brought stew out to their table. Her fingers were tattooed. John guessed she was one of the hostel owner’s wives. Pirr’tu flirted with her in an easy manner. She remembered him from the last time they had visited. Pirr’tu told her that he hadn’t been able to forget her pretty face or her sweet laugh. The girl blushed and smiled. Pirr’tu watched the girl as she retreated back through the kitchen door.

“Someone doesn’t mind the way I smell,” Pirr’tu said.

“I think she actually likes your stink,” Fenn commented.

Pirr’tu pulled a rakish smile.

“All I’m going to say is don’t get caught,” Lafi’shir said.

“Doing what?” Pirr’tu asked.

Lafi’shir just looked at Pirr’tu for a long moment. Then he continued eating his stew.

“Who knows if she’s even interested,” Pirr’tu said.

A little later, the girl brought several extra slabs of soft cheese to their table. She set the tray down near Pirr’tu.

“There’s so little left, you might as well have the last of the cheese,” the girl said. She gazed down at her hands. “There will be fresh curds tomorrow, you know. I’ll be in the kitchen all night cooking and pressing them.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Pirr’tu commented. “You won’t be doing it all on you own, will you?”

The girl colored just a little at the question.

“My sister isn’t feeling well, so yes, tonight I’ll be working alone.”  

“Someone ought to at least keep you company,” Pirr’tu suggested very softly.

The girl’s face lit up with excitement and only after dropping her gaze from Pirr’tu’s handsome face did she seem to recover her composure enough to nod her agreement and then excuse herself.

“I’ll be careful,” Pirr’tu said before Lafi’shir even commented.

John eyed the cheese. It looked appealingly buttery. Pirr’tu noticed and laughed, then proffered John a slice.

“You see, there are advantages to charming girls,” Pirr’tu said softly.

A month ago John might have mistaken the comment for more than friendly teasing. Now, he took the cheese and smiled lasciviously as he leaned a little closer to Pirr’tu.

“There are also advantages to enticing a man who charms girls,” John said.

Pirr’tu flushed to his hair. Fenn and Saimura both snickered at that, while Lafi’shir just smiled and shook his head. John gulped down the remainder of the cheese.

“Laugh if you like,” Pirr’tu said, “but I’ll be getting more than a slice of cheese later tonight.”

“True enough,” John admitted.

“Lucky bastard,” Fenn said. John noticed the way Fenn glanced to him, but he didn’t respond. And soon enough Fenn’s attention shifted to Saimura.

 As far as John knew, none of them had had sex since they had left the Warren. That had been nearly a month ago. In Rathal’pesha a month of celibacy would have been nothing. But now the memories of Ravishan’s muscular body and inviting mouth were far too recent for John to easily ignore. He wondered where Ravishan was now and imagined him as he had last seen him, sleeping in the shelter of a shrine. John imagined kneeling down beside him, slipping his hands under Ravishan’s clothes, caressing his smooth skin and feeling the heat of lean muscle beneath his fingers. He imagined running his hand down over the dark curls of Ravishan’s pubic hair and stroking him to wakefulness. He imagined Ravishan’s hands touching him in return. Then Ravishan’s lips.

A keen ache pulsed through John’s body. He had to stop fantasizing about Ravishan. He stirred his ugly brown stew. He studied the wrinkled, ancient face of an old man who sat dozing at a table near the fireplace. He considered the square root of 1,296. After a few moments of division John realized that the answer was 36.

 The stiff tension in his groin slowly faded.

“Is something wrong?” Saimura asked. “Have you sensed something?”

“No,” John said quickly. “I was just daydreaming.”

“You looked troubled,” Saimura commented.

“No, I’m tired and I smell like the ass-end of a tahldi, that’s all.”

“The bath is probably ready by now,” Lafi’shir said. “We could all do with a little soap and water.”

•

The bath shared a wall with the kitchen. And the smell of bread and cooking oil floated through the small room. A huge wooden tub occupied most of the room. Wisps of steam rose off the water in the tub. John could feel the heat rolling off the coals below it. Even the tiled floor and walls radiated warmth.

 Soap, scrub brushes, and smaller wash buckets had been provided for all five of them. John studied the buckets curiously. Fenn also seemed confused. The baths in the Warren had been more like showers with running water, not just a series of tubs.

“You wash and rinse with the small bucket. Then you soak in the tub,” Saimura told them both. “It’s very refined. Almost as decadent as a gaunsho’s bath.”

“Don’t expect me to pay for another too soon,” Lafi’shir said. He stripped off his clothes and tossed them in a heap near the door. “It’s too cold to use the stable troughs right now, but in summer that’s where you’ll all be doing your washing.”

John nodded. He tried to keep his eyes to himself as they all undressed, but it was impossible not to notice the other men’s naked bodies. He couldn’t help but note the similarities and differences between them all.

Both Lafi’shir and Pirr’tu were strongly built men with thick curling body hair. Pirr’tu’s hair was glossy black, whereas much of Lafi’shir’s had gone gray and kinked wildly. For a man in his late fifties, Lafi’shir boasted an astounding physique. The muscles of his belly had softened a little, but his chest was still firm, his shoulders still thick. John guessed that in his prime his arms and thighs had bulged with muscle just as Pirr’tu’s did. John’s eyes lingered briefly on Pirr’tu, admiring how his broad back tapered down to tight, muscular buttocks.

Not quite John’s type, but he could understand the attraction Pirr’tu inspired in so many young women.

 Fenn, by comparison, was quite slim. His long hands, feet, and penis seemed a little outsized for his thin body. His black body hair seemed fine. John guessed it would be silky to the touch. Fenn washed himself without any sign of discomfort at his own nudity.

Saimura undressed more carefully than the other men. He removed several stones and a small knife from his pockets, then folded his clothes. His skin was milky white and dappled with freckles. His muscles were not as taut as Ravishan’s, but there was a similarity between their builds. Saimura possessed the same long, graceful physique as Ravishan. Where Ravishan was lean and scarred, Saimura appeared supple and unmarred. Where Ravishan’s pubic hair was black, Saimura’s was a surprisingly bright shade of red.

Saimura threw a tin of soap to John. John barely looked up in time to catch it.

“Are you planning on washing with your clothes on?” Saimura asked.

John felt a red flush spread from his face down.

Pirr’tu glanced back at John and grinned.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy,” Pirr’tu teased.

John placed the talisman Saimura had given him with Saimura’s stones and knife. Then he stripped off his clothes. He knew the other men were looking him over. He tried to ignore them and washed himself. After a few moments, he couldn’t help but turn to Pirr’tu. The man stared, aghast, at John’s groin.

“Are you falling in love?” John asked, though he suspected he knew exactly what so horrified Pirr’tu.

“Not with that ugly monster,” Pirr’tu responded. Then he demanded, “What happened to your foreskin?”

Years before, John had answered the same question for Samsango and heard his response whispered among numerous other priests at Rathal’pesha for weeks after. But he couldn’t use the same answer. Saimura would know that descendants of Eastern families didn’t circumcise their sons.

“It happened a long time ago. I’d rather not talk about it,” John said.

“It was those bastard Payshmura, wasn’t it?” Pirr’tu asked quietly.

John gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Is there a scar?” Fenn stepped closer to John.

“Not that you can see,” John replied.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen a peeled cock before,” Lafi’shir said to Pirr’tu. He rinsed the soap out of his hair.

“You have?” Pirr’tu demanded.

“They’re common enough in the south. The gaun’im there like their bodyguards and rashan’im peeled. Saimura’s seen a few.”

Saimura nodded without much interest. He rinsed his chest and then his hair.

“Why would anyone do that?” Pirr’tu looked almost stunned.

“Proves they’re tough. It’s not any man who can just stand there while someone slices off his foreskin, is it?” Lafi’shir glanced briefly to John. Fenn looked horrified.

“Bet you’re glad you weren’t picked to spy in the south, eh, Fenn?” Lafi’shir grinned. Fenn nodded.

Lafi’shir strode to the big tub and tested the water with one hand. He stepped in and slowly lowered himself down into the water. Only his head and shoulders remained visible above the side of the big tub. A moment later Saimura and Pirr’tu joined him.

John washed himself quickly. The scar where Ashan’ahma’s Silence Knife had speared through his chest was still pink and tender. John lathered the smell of tahldi and sweat off his body and hair. He rinsed himself, then climbed into the big tub.

The hot water almost shocked him. His skin turned bright pink as he lowered himself to the wooden ledge in the tub. Pirr’tu dunked his head once quickly and wiped his face. Lafi’shir leaned back against the side of the tub and hung his head back. He closed his eyes and drew in slow, deep breaths. Fenn emulated Pirr’tu, dunking his head, but sputtered when he came up.

“It’s salty,” Fenn said.

“Yes. We’re washing in the water for tomorrow’s stew,” Saimura replied.

“No we aren’t,” Fenn said.

Saimura just laughed.

Fenn splashed a little of the water at Saimura, but Saimura didn’t respond. He spread his arms out and leaned back into the water, floating just a little.

The warm water lapped at John’s tired back and sore muscles. John relaxed against the side of the tub. Lafi’shir had the right idea. John wondered if he would fall asleep if he closed his eyes. He closed his eyes anyway.

“This is nice,” Fenn murmured.

Saimura agreed with a pleased sigh.

John felt the currents of heat rolling through the salt-heavy water. Suddenly the water sloshed and dropped. John opened his eyes to see Lafi’shir stepping out of the tub.

“That’s about enough for me.” Lafi’shir toweled himself off and then wrapped the towel around his waist. “I’m going up for the night. I’ll be in the eaves room if you need me. The rest of you have the smaller common room to yourselves.”

Lafi’shir left a key with Saimura’s things and then after dressing let himself out. John stretched his legs out into the space Lafi’shir had vacated. The water was pleasantly buoyant.

“You think gaun’im soak like this everyday?” Fenn asked.

“I would if I was one of them,” Saimura replied. He dunked his head. When he came up his pale skin was bright red. His auburn hair curled slightly.

John pulled himself under more slowly. The water’s salty flavor floated over his lips. Waves of heat massaged his scalp. After a few moments John lifted his head back up into the cool air.

“Well, it’s getting late.” Pirr’tu stood and waded across the tub.

“Time for a little snack in the kitchen?” Fenn asked.

Pirr’tu smiled and stepped out of the tub.

“Don’t wait up for me,” Pirr’tu replied.

He dried himself and dressed in one of the robes that hung on the far wall. John signed him good luck as he left.

Fenn drifted closer, brushed against John’s shoulder, and smiled. John moved aside slightly, but he wasn’t paying that much attention to Fenn. There was something odd about Saimura’s expression. He looked suddenly too alert.

“How can you be so forward?” Saimura asked Fenn.

Fenn frowned at him.

“What do you care?”

“You don’t even know if Jath’ibaye is…” Saimura flushed a little and John knew it wasn’t just because of the warm water.

“Yes, I do,” Fenn replied. “The entire Warren was talking about him and his lover. And I’m the same way. So, why shouldn’t we keep each other company?”

Saimura didn’t respond to Fenn’s question. Instead he asked another of his own.

“How do you know you’re the same?” Saimura asked. “How do you know that you feel that way?”

“Do you mean, how do we know that we prefer men?” John asked.

Saimura nodded.

“Well, even if I hadn’t heard from every single cook and stableman that Jath’ibaye slept with men, I would have known when I saw Jath’ibaye nearly kiss his lover at battle practice.” Fenn stretched his lean arms out almost as if he were striking a pose. “And he’s probably heard about me from one of the stablemen.” Fenn shrugged. “Even if he hadn’t, I think I’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Yes, you have,” John commented.

“That’s not what I meant,” Saimura said. He splashed a little water over his face and wiped it away from his eyes. “I meant, how did you realize that you felt the way you do?”

“Oh, I see.” Fenn paused a moment to think. “I don’t know. I’ve always been more at ease with men—always liked their company better. That’s why I went to the stables. Lots of men there are better with each other than with women. Some just don’t want to support babies, but lots of them like boys better.”

Saimura glanced to John. John’s first instinct was to keep silent. The subject was so personal. But then John thought he owed Saimura some honesty and it seemed important to Saimura.

“It’s different for everyone,” John said. “Some people just know from early on. Others realize it later.”

Saimura leaned back against the side of the tub. He gazed up at the ceiling.

“So, when did you know, Jath’ibaye?” Saimura asked quietly.

“The first time I kissed another boy I was eight years old,” John admitted. “But I didn’t really know that I wasn’t interested in girls until later. Fifteen or sixteen, I suppose. It wasn’t that I hated them. I just wasn’t attracted to them the way I was attracted to men.”