9: The Iron Temple (8 page)

“Why are you asking all this?” Fenn asked.

“Just curious,” Saimura responded.

“Oh?” Fenn raised his eyebrows and grinned wickedly. “How curious?”

Saimura’s cheeks darkened to nearly scarlet. Fenn drifted through the water to his side. John opened his mouth to tell Fenn to leave Saimura alone. But then Saimura reached out and hesitantly touched Fenn’s chest. He ran his fingers over Fenn’s slim ribs and up to Fenn’s nipple. Fenn smiled and Saimura pulled his hand back.

“It’s all right.” Fenn spoke with the same soft tone that he used to calm John’s surly tahldi. “You have a nice touch. There’s nothing wrong with something feeling good.”

Fenn leaned forward and kissed Saimura’s chest. Saimura shivered as Fenn kissed each of his nipples and then his neck. Fenn lifted Saimura’s hand back to his chest.

“You see, no harm done,” Fenn whispered. “It’s nice.”

Fenn pulled Saimura close and kissed his mouth. Saimura’s hands stroked Fenn’s chest and waist with shaking care.

John began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. They were both attractive men and he couldn’t help but watch them. At the same time his growing arousal threatened to become embarrassing.

He didn’t think Fenn would care if he joined them, but Saimura would probably panic. Even if Saimura had been willing, John knew he couldn’t be with the two of them. It would be an utter betrayal of Ravishan. John would rather die than hurt Ravishan for a few minutes of pleasure.

He stood and stepped out of the tub. An instant later Saimura pulled away from Fenn.

“It’s getting late,” Saimura said a little breathlessly. “We should get some sleep.”

John toweled off as Saimura climbed out of the tub. John tried not to notice Saimura’s attempt to hide his erection with a towel. Fenn hopped out of the tub a moment later. Saimura glanced to him nervously. Fenn smiled.

“No harm done,” Fenn said softly.

He toweled off easily. Obviously, their encounter had aroused Fenn, but not as strongly as it had Saimura. The three of them dressed in robes and retreated to the cool upstairs.

Their room was furnished with five beds, a big dresser, a large enamel washbasin, and four pitchers of wash water. Chamber pots were tucked under the beds and three extra blankets sat in the bottom drawer of the dresser.

John chose a bed near the door. It looked slightly bigger than the others. He curled up against the cool sheets and wrapped his blankets tight around his body. Saimura lay down in the bed across from John’s. Fenn took the bed behind Saimura’s.

“Well, it’s good night and good dreams,” Fenn said. He snuffed out the flame of the oil lamp. A deep darkness filled the room.

John drifted a little, trying to sleep but never quite relaxing enough to drift off. He wished he could feel Ravishan. He concentrated, but Ravishan was somewhere in the Gray Space and beyond his reach.

An hour or so later John heard the quiet rustle of blankets. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Pirr’tu returning to the room. Instead, he made out Fenn’s slim silhouette. He knelt beside Saimura’s bedside and touched Saimura’s shoulder.

“It’s cold out here,” Fenn whispered.

“You shouldn’t…” Saimura moved his head closer to Fenn’s. “Jath’ibaye—”

“He’s asleep and dreaming,” Fenn said. “But I can’t rest, not the way you left me.”

“I didn’t—”

Fenn leaned forward and kissed Saimura.

“You did,” Fenn said. John suspected from his tone that Fenn might be smiling. “I can’t get you out of my thoughts now.” The blanket rustled and John thought that Fenn might have slipped one of his arms beneath Saimura’s bedding. Saimura gave a soft gasp.

 “I could freeze, sitting on the floor here all night,” Fenn said.

“No you couldn’t.”

“At least kiss me again,” Fenn said.

Saimura kissed him. They leaned close for a long while. John thought he saw Fenn stroke Saimura’s face.

“Should I go back to my own bed now?” Fenn asked.

“No.” Saimura peeled the blankets back and Fenn slid into the bed next to him. For quite a while, they were very quiet and still. John tried to imagine that they had somehow fallen asleep. Steadily, though, he became aware of their bodies moving beneath the blankets and their fast, gasping breaths. Being plainly more practiced at surreptitious sex, Fenn was nearly silent, but quiet moans of pleasure escaped Saimura. The bed rocked to an unmistakable rhythm.

John tried to think of stones, glaciers, distant forests, even difficult math problems. None of it distracted him from his intense awareness of the two men fucking in the bed across from him.

At last they lay still. Several minutes passed. Fenn lifted himself off of Saimura and kissed him several times. Saimura pulled him down closer. They lay together quietly.

“Pirr’tu will be coming back soon,” Saimura whispered.

“I’ll go if you want me to.” Fenn propped himself up on his elbow.

“I…You probably should,” Saimura said.

After bestowing a final kiss, Fenn crept back to his own bed. An hour later, when Pirr’tu returned, only John remained awake to congratulate him.

Chapter Ninety-Three

John spent most of the next two days with Pirr’tu sitting in wine houses, listening to men converse and complain. And because all trains leaving the city had ground to a halt two weeks ago, both the numbers of stranded travelers and the vigor of their grievances seemed to grow hourly.

 John kept his head bowed, letting his black-stained hair hide his features. Pirr’tu talked easily and drank wine without any seeming concern.

Train attendants, mill workers, cobblers, and smiths all drank with Pirr’tu. Most men warmed to his easy manner and often confessed far more to Pirr’tu than John would have imagined possible. John admired Pirr’tu’s skill with people while watching him fill a stocky prison guard’s wine cup. Pirr’tu nodded sympathetically as the guard continued to elaborate on his recent troubles.

“No one in his right mind thinks that little beauty, Lon’ahma, is a witch. She’s simple as a lamb, she is. But orders come straight from the priests. So we lock her up.” The prison guard accepted the wine cup from Pirr’tu gladly.

“Next thing we know we have to arrest her grandfather and all five grandmothers for blocking the gates. And her great uncle too. The man’s nearly eighty!” The guard shook his head. “If you ask me, I’d say we should just cut the lot of them loose, Lon’ahma too. But the priests won’t have that.”

“Sounds bad,” Pirr’tu said.

“I’ve got kids throwing rocks at me,” the guard grumbled, “kids I know. I caught Wan’uhmari’s sons and dragged them back to his shop by their ears. I’d like to say they got a beating for it, but I don’t believe they did.”

“But the warden freed the grandparents yesterday, didn’t he?” Pirr’tu asked. “Things should be better now.”

 The guard shook his head and frowned down at his wine.

“It’s not set right by far and that husband of hers won’t let any of his trains roll out of the city until it is,” the guard said, and then he turned the conversation to Pirr’tu’s travels. Pirr’tu obliged him with a few amusing stories of trading tahldi and charming country girls.

“Of course, there’s not much of that now that I’ve been saddled with a brother-in-law.” Pirr’tu gestured to John with his thumb. John simply nodded to the guard and continued playing his part as Pirr’tu’s silent, dour bodyguard of an in-law. Other men joined them at the table and the conversations wandered. John listened and hours later, when Pirr’tu was drunk, he steadied Pirr’tu as they walked back to the Hearthstone Hostel.

Lafi’shir returned from the train station with stories and conjectures, but no solid date for when the trains would be moving again. Fenn and Saimura brought other news from the city stables.

All Gisa’s current troubles seemed to have stemmed from the arrest of a single girl. Lon’ahma belonged to a wealthy and respected family of craftsmen. Her grandfather had overseen the building of Gisa’s fountains. Her husband, Kirh’yu, owned the Gisa train station. By all accounts Lon’ahma was pretty and devout: a very attractive girl with the mind of a child. No one could credit her possessing the cruelty of a witch, much less the intellect required.

Nevertheless, the ushman at the Gisa temple had tested her with goatweed and demanded that she be arrested. Fenn reported that many of the young men at the city stables had suggested that the ushman simply wanted the girl for himself.

On the day of Lon’ahma’s arrest, her husband had cut off all services at the train station. Cases of cheese, flocks of animals, pallets of tapestries, and countless other goods now crowded the station platforms. Merchants and travelers filled the city’s hostels while they waited for the trains to begin moving again. It had been nearly two weeks since any engine had departed the station.

Now the ushman at the Gisa temple had sent for Bousim rashan’im to conduct Lon’ahma, along with several other women accused of witchcraft, to Amura’taye. They were expected to arrive in a day or less.

“A rug seller I met at the stables said that there have been public protests in other towns as well,” Saimura said. He handed Pirr’tu a cup of steaming daru’sira. Pirr’tu winced at the bitter smell of the drink.

“Protests over the women arrested for witchcraft?” Lafi’shir asked.

“Exactly,” Saimura said.

“Why would so many people suddenly be so upset?” Lafi’shir wondered aloud. “The Payshmura have been arresting witches for years.”

“Not in these numbers,” Saimura said.

Pirr’tu shook his head.

“It’s the rapes,” Pirr’tu said firmly. “No one says it outright, but they know it’s happening and it makes them sick.”

“Yes, but how do they all know?” Lafi’shir asked. “A week ago it wasn’t common knowledge. Sheb’yu only just discovered it. Now men in Gisa and Amura’dow’lari are discussing it. How is word traveling so fast?”

“No idea,” Pirr’tu said. “But it’s good that it is, isn’t it? It’s bringing people to our side.”

“Maybe. Any other news?” Lafi’shir asked.

“Armed companies of Bousim rashan’im have been seen riding across the Hill Road and the Holy Road,” John said. “It looks like the ushman in Gisa isn’t the only one calling for reinforcements.”

“How many rashan’im?” Lafi’shir asked.

“The man I overheard said he saw a hundred on the Holy Road. Two hundred or more on the Hill Road, riding south,” John said. He had no idea how they would fight two hundred rashan’im.

“This is getting big, fast,” Lafi’shir said.

“So, what do we do?” Fenn asked.

“If we weren’t spread so thin, we’d send fighters to support the protests. We’d get our people in there to fight the rashan’im when they came.” Lafi’shir ran his hand over his beard. “With only six of us, we’re going to have to focus on Gisa. I’ll visit the Weavers Row tonight. Tai’yu probably has more information. Maybe this girl’s husband and family are willing to commit more than symbolic resistance to get her back.” Lafi’shir stood and picked his coat up off the bed.

“I should be back soon.” Lafi’shir paused at the door. “Saimura, send word of all this back to Ji.”

With that Lafi’shir left them.

It was already late and John had been up since early morning. He washed at the basin and then retired to his bed. Pirr’tu went downstairs, to the kitchen no doubt. Fenn sat on the foot of Saimura’s bed oiling a tahldi harness while Saimura carved the tiny bird bones that would comprise his charm.

John closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted from the tiny subterranean streams trickling beneath the city stones into dreams of deep volcanic chasms and radiant warmth. He slept for a few hours and then suddenly sat up, wide awake in the darkness.

A frigid whisper hung in the air. John’s eyes adjusted and he saw Ravishan. Fenn, Saimura, and Pirr’tu remained asleep in their own beds. Ravishan stepped closer to John’s bedside and John wondered briefly if this was another dream.

“Jahn,” Ravishan whispered. It was strange to hear his old name now.

“I’m here,” John whispered. He reached out and caught Ravishan’s hand. The bitter chill of the Gray Space lingered on Ravishan’s skin. John pulled him to the bed.

John smiled at him, but Ravishan bowed his head, his expression desolate. Worry crushed John’s fleeting swell of joy.

“What’s wrong?” John asked.

Ravishan wrapped his arms around John and held him silently. John returned Ravishan’s powerful hug with a feeling of growing dread.

“Tell me what’s happened,” John whispered against the muscles of Ravishan’s neck.

“Rousma got loose from the holy sisters long enough to send me word.” Ravishan didn’t release John. He curled his hand around the back of John’s head, almost cradling John’s skull. His fingers stroked John’s hair.

“I’m sorry, Jahn,” Ravishan whispered. His voice sounded so strained that John thought he might have been crying.

And suddenly John knew what was wrong. A terrible sorrow seemed to bloom through his chest. His throat constricted like a fist.

“It’s Laurie, isn’t it?” John’s own voice sounded ragged.

Ravishan nodded and held John tighter.

“Her child was born two days ago,” Ravishan whispered. “Yesterday, the holy sisters killed it and began using its blood to bind Loshai’s bones.”

No. She’d been so happy about that child…She and Bill had both been overjoyed.

John could hardly bear the idea of it. He didn’t want it to be true—would have done anything for it not to be true. But the knowledge was as inescapable and painful as a blade driven into his gut. No matter how he tried he couldn’t get away from the pain of it.

“I’m sorry, Jahn,” Ravishan whispered. “I couldn’t get inside. I couldn’t save her.”

“It’s not your fault.” John squeezed his eyes closed against his tears. He pressed his face into Ravishan’s shoulder and wept. Ravishan held him all night.

•

In the morning Ravishan took the charm Saimura had carved and promised to deliver it to Ji along with a report of all that they had done in the last month. The other men asked Ravishan about the fighting in the south. He said it was going slowly. Sabir was cautious and intent on winning allies before ordering the assault against Umbhra’ibaye. But Ravishan assured them that it wouldn’t be too much longer.