The Barrow (17 page)

The three steam rooms that were the furthest back had a reputation, of course, as might be expected in a bathhouse. Sexual contact between members of the same sex was forbidden under the laws and customs of the Divine King, and considered one of the perversions of Ligrid, though amongst the Athairi and others of the Old Religion they were more properly placed as amongst Dieva's many pleasures. From Stjepan's perspective, it often seemed that the cult of the Divine King was intent on outlawing Dieva altogether, and making her and Ligrid into one and the same, and he found that odd and sad. And so in the old city, the pleasures of life were driven underground, and brothels and prostitutes thrived, and Forbidden Cults gained sway, and the Great Baths were well patrolled by Watchmen and even Templars; another good reason to avoid them, as far as Stjepan was concerned.

But in the New Baths, the Bath Association looked the other way, and paid the Watch to do so as well, and the three rooms in the back could gain a reputation.

At this hour, Stjepan knew they would mostly be quiet, though in the first room he passed he could see several pairs of naked men moving softly and wetly in the steam and the heat, watching and performing for each other. In the second, there were only three men, but one of them was young and slim, and bent over between the other two much larger, more muscular men, and they were vigorously using him to their mutual delight. He stopped and observed for a moment, watching the two large, erect cocks as they slipped in and out of each end of the slim young man. The Baths were a veritable cornucopia of cocks, and Stjepan had often idly noted the differences, or lack of differences, between men of various nations. The primary difference to note, at first glance, tended to be circumcision, which was practiced mostly by adherents to the Old Religion; though that was not universally true, as in recent centuries the practice had become more widespread for reasons of perceived cleanliness and hygiene. One of the muscular men was a tall Northman, blond and bearded, and probably a sailor fresh into port; they tended to be on the larger side, and Stjepan hazarded a guess that he was circumcised, based on what he saw sliding in and out of the youth's stretched lips. The young man clearly already had a great deal of experience, as he was taking the length of it into his throat, almost to the root. The other, behind the youth's spread and upraised ass, was a black-skinned Amoran, and clearly descended of the Sun Bull, with an impressive member made all the more swollen by an iron cock ring slipped over shaft and scrotum. A Divine King man, as most of the Amorans were, but many of them held the Old Religion in their hearts as well, and so they were often circumcised, as this man was. Stjepan couldn't really see the younger man's cock as he was bent over between the two larger men, but he'd guess he was Danian, and therefore likely uncircumcised.

If this is what he's into, and he certainly seems to be, then this is his lucky day
, Stjepan thought.
Though he may be getting more than he bargained for, particularly with that cock ring
. Most Amorans seemed to be of average size, but the blood of the Bull ran strong amongst them, Stjepan knew, and also amongst the local Aurians, as Heth, in addition to being the God of the Sea, was also the god of the
aurochs
, the wide-horned northern bulls. Amongst most other cultures and nations it was the luck of the draw, depending on whatever the gifts of lineage had happened to provide. Though amongst his own
fae
-blooded people, the Athairi, many of them had the blood of satyrs or, even luckier still, centaurs in their lineage, and so would prove quite popular in bathhouses such as these.

The Amoran spotted Stjepan watching, and called out to him. “Black-Heart, join us,” he grunted. “This one's tight and eager.” The Amoran grinned. “Unless you'd rather take his place? We have eaten of the
lamba
root today, and are only getting started!” He gave a big laugh, his muscles shaking.
Lamba
root, imported from beyond the Ulik Desert, was highly sought after, but most of the potents sold in the city were almost certainly fakes.

“Perhaps later, Nannos,” Stjepan smiled, and watched for a moment longer before walking on to the third room.

The third room was empty, and Stjepan took a seat on the first level of marble benches. He undid his towel, opening his knees, and leaned his elbows back on the next level of marble seats behind him, relaxing in the heat and steam.

He waited for a while, listening to the muffled sounds echoing from the other room, until Jonas walked in and settled down next to him. Jonas the Grey was a short, hawk-nosed Danian, with a goatee and long straggly black hair that came to his shoulders. He was wiry and well muscled, with black hair on his chests and arms. He did not remove the towel wrapped around his waist, either out of modesty and deference to the Divine King, or perhaps out of some sense of embarrassment about the size or shape of his member, Stjepan wasn't sure. He couldn't recall ever having seen Jonas naked. But Stjepan didn't pin him for a religious man. He sat down next to Stjepan and they were silent for a few moments before Jonas glanced at him.

“Black-Heart,” he said with a half-smirk. Jonas was always smirking, or close to it. “Good to have you back in the city.”

“Grey,” said Stjepan. “Good to be back. And how has this fair city fared in my absence?”

“You might be surprised to know it's survived without you just fine,” laughed Jonas. “Lord Orrigard still thinks you're out surveying the Dentyn Mire, so you probably have a few more weeks before he starts to wonder why he hasn't seen your face.”

“Yeah, it's easy to get lost in the moors,” said Stjepan with a shrug.

“Best assignment in the world,” laughed Jonas. “No wonder we don't have any good maps of it, none of our cartographers ever actually go there.” He paused, his face slightly more serious. “Half the knights in the city have lit out early with the Grand Duke, he's eager to stretch his legs, and they're all sporting it up on the Plain of Gavant. Coogan and Cynyr are up there, attached to the Grand Duke's headquarters company. Looks like he's going to try for Porloss again this summer, and it's going to be big. He's been steaming about it all winter, and by all reports the Erid King is champing at the bit for a second shot as well; the Duke of Enlos is joining in this time, same with the King of Huelt, even the eastern Watchtowers. Everyone with a grudge against the blood of the Wyvern King. They want to go in and burn them all out. The biggest army in decades. It's going to be an epic disaster. So word is you can expect to be summoned for that one at some point.”

“Fantastic,” said Stjepan, shaking his head. “Back into those fucking hills. Goddess, what a nightmare.” He breathed deep for a moment. “Where's Duram, then, he's not with them?”

“Duram's been dispatched to Warwark, bearing letters and maps for King Derrek.”

“Any word about Austin?” Stjepan asked.

“No, still no word about Austin,” said Jonas, the smirk disappearing entirely for a moment. “Duram is supposed to look while he's over there at the Wall, but even the Readings are coming back vague. Never seen such puzzled looks on a fortuneteller's face before. It's like Lost Uthedmael just swallowed him up.”

“So Austin may have joined Fionne in the Underworld,” Stjepan said. “And another Lord of Book and Street is laid low.”

“Maybe,” said Jonas with a shrug. “Austin's a clever man, though, and at least the Readings aren't coming back filled with death and blood and disaster.” Jonas paused a moment. “Speaking of which, I was sorry to hear about Guilford.”

“Aye,” said Stjepan softly. “He was a good man, for one of the Marked, and will be missed. He would have been a stalwart companion to have beside us again, if we're to go after the Earl once more this summer.”

“I heard old Jon Pastle was amongst his crew?” asked Jonas.

“Aye,” said Stjepan. “Took a spear right through the belly from a naked Nameless berserk.”

“I didn't think anything would ever kill that man, not after the fight at Cael Maras,” said Jonas, shaking his head. “Bad way to go.”

“No, his was a clean death,” said Stjepan. “He was one of the lucky ones.” Jonas looked at him, but Stjepan was staring into space through narrowed eyes. “The priestess of the temple managed to summon a minor
Baalhazor
to aid her,” he said finally. “If she'd managed to summon the
Bharab Dzerek
itself, I probably wouldn't be here right now.”

“Islik's balls,” cursed Jonas, a bit wide-eyed. “An actual fucking
Rahabi
demon?”

“Aye,” said Stjepan. “Islik's giant bloated balls, indeed.”

They sat in silence for a little while, soaking up the heat and the steam.

Finally Jonas stirred. “Word's out, you've been blacklisted by the Guild,” he said.

“Aye; nothing that can be done about that now,” Stjepan replied with a shrug. “That was a certainty the moment that Guilford, son of Guy, died in front of me.”

“So what's the call now?” asked Jonas.

“I'll see what Gilgwyr comes up with,” Stjepan said. “If he reaches out to you on this one, say no.”

“No need to worry on that account, I have no interest in going where you're about to go,” said Jonas with a smirk. Stjepan half-smirked back. “Some games are more dangerous than others, and I for one actually want to live to see my old age. Besides, I've already got my marching orders.”

“May Yhera Fortuna and the Fates smile upon you, then, Jonas the Grey,” said Stjepan.

“And on you, as well, Stjepan Black-Heart,” said Jonas as he stood. “I'll tell everyone you said hello.”

After Jonas left, Stjepan sat alone for a long while, soaking up the heat and steam. He listened to the muffled sounds of grunting and the slap of wet, slippery flesh from nearby. Slowly he stood up, exited the third room and walked back over to the second steam room in the rear of the New Baths, leaving his towel behind.

He watched for a moment from the doorway, and then, naked, stepped inside.

“Who in the name of the King of Heaven is that ugly cow of a woman?” asked Arduin idly, looking across the assembled nobles and courtiers gathered in clusters in the outer galleries of the High King's Hall.

The High King's Hall anchored the eastern end of a great complex built upon the highest, easternmost crest of the city's rise. While imposing, it was perhaps not strictly speaking a castle, as it relied more upon the height of the hilltop for defense rather than the addition of outer walls and towers, its design either incomplete or betraying the hubris of its original architect, who had perhaps assumed that the city walls themselves would be sufficient. This hubris had been betrayed at least twice, once when the Aurians under King Orfeydda had conquered the city and the Hall, and then when an army sent by the Worm Kings had sacked the city during the Age of Legend and then briefly ruled it. Dauban Hess, the Golden Emperor, had not had to invest the city or the Hall when his armies had invaded and conquered the region, for he had defeated King Orfewain in the fields of Pyr's End, south of Abenton, and there had accepted his offer of tribute; otherwise most certainly that would have been a third time when the Hall had fallen.

The innermost parts of the High King's Hall were the great hall itself, one of the largest interior spaces in any building in the Middle Kingdoms where almost the entirety of the High King's Court could meet when summoned, and the king's private chambers and offices in the Tower of Myrad. Surrounding this core were several outer layers of halls, galleries, courtyards, and arcades built into the promontory, connecting a variety of towers and outbuildings into one seamless structure that stretched to the westernmost part of the rise, ending in the city's Great Temple of the Divine King.

Most of the courtiers filling the outer galleries were from the eastern Middle Kingdoms and therefore long familiar to Arduin, though with the Grand Duke already in the field there were fewer knights and high lords amongst the assembled worthies than usual for this time of year. He could see clusters of courtiers and noble Ladies from the Principality of Auria, left behind by the Crown Prince, eyeing with barely concealed hostility some young Danian lordlings down from Umat, probably sent to get their first experience of the High King's Court. Courtiers sent from the Baron of Collwyn mingled with magisters from the University of Truse, come to petition the High King about some matter related to their charter, and he recognized Sir Garin Theodrum, a knight in the service of the Baroness of Abenton whom he had jousted in the lists a long time ago, but Sir Garin appeared to be studiously avoiding eye contact with him.