The Bowyer's Tale

This time everyone looked puzzled. The bowyer wet his lips and resumed.

Yeah, so I knew it was near the throne room since that shiny white marble was everywhere again. Arsalin hands me her bundle and knocks on this huge, black double door. Maybe it was made of ebony, I don't know.

Well these royal guards open it and she's like, "He's with me." But they went for their swords!

Then this big, deep voice goes, "Let them in." Just like that, they pull me in and shut the door.

Sarasa looked around at the others, "You know, some of this stuff might be what I think they call a 'state secret.' "

Karan shrugged his fur-trimmed cloak back over his shoulder. "Don't worry. The Signore thinks it's important to figure this all out too." He turned to the fisherman then the bowyer, "Both your kings agree-."

"Oh, I was gonna tell you anyway. I don't plan to go back for quite a while," Sarasa interrupted.

So it's some kind of meeting room and the steward is looking over at us. There's a bunch of other guys around the table with maps and parchments and shit. A lot of them were at the big thing in the throne room earlier, but some of the others looked like servants or... I think they're called "ajudents."

"Adjutants," Karan suggested.

Right. Well a bunch of bigwigs, all grim. I... kinda hid behind the stuff I was carrying when I saw them staring at me.

"How bad is it?" Arsalin had this hard, stern voice for talking to them.

A fork-bearded man in mail -one of the southern types- slapped the table and spilled an inkpot, "Terrible!"

"Only one more arrived after noon," the steward said. "The lines are drawn."

"So one off at the most?" Arsalin looked down the table.

The steward grimaced. "Two. My dear brother said a tie is not acceptable."

Arsalin cracked her knuckles and I could hear she was smiling. "Tell your brother that the earlier he starts, the earlier he can get to bed."

That got them whispering. The steward shuffled some parchments into a stack and watched me, "On the hour then. You've made some kind of arrangement?"

"I'm working on it. Don't lose anyone." I was glad to leave with her.

I waited to ask what the hell was going on till we reached the stairs to the cellar.

She glanced out a narrow, fortress window. "Later. Remember the deal."

She led me to a shadowy bath hall next. It was mostly empty, though water was steaming in two of the huge cauldrons. I don't think it was actually the same room as before; there were a few around.

A couple of servants were cleaning the rough floors. Arsalin called the older one, "Hey, Sadasa! Could you get us some towels and half an hour alone?" She put an arm around my waist, "Got some business to attend to."

"Oh, Arsalin!" He looked at her slyly. "I sure could. Could you-"

She wagged a finger. "You already owe me a favor. But if you hop to it, I'll make sure you owe me two by sundown tomorrow."

Sadasa turned to the boy who'd been helping him, "Let's go, we'll come back later."

He hurried out, but the kid stopped and asked, "Do you know how to work the water, lady?"

"I should hope so after two moons!" She tossed him a bronze Davasmark, "Thanks for asking though, kid."

Sadasa came back with a big pile of towels and soaps and bottles of strange liquids, then the doors thudded as they left.

By the fiery glow from under the two cauldrons, Arsalin and I looked over the odd set of sluice gates, stone trenches, and wooden chutes that filled and emptied the baths. It was sorta like an irrigation system. You pulled levers or ropes to open little sluices or tip the pots of icy or boiling water, so you could fill any pool as deep and as hot or cold as you wanted. Or you could scald yourself if you used the wrong ones.

Arsalin hauled up and down on a pull-rope. "See that lever at the trench corner over there? Could you handle that while I work this?"

I pulled and heard a splash and a shriek!

Shit!

I ran to her, but she was laughing. Gods, I'm glad it'd been cold water that sloshed over the chute and drenched her.

"Wrong one, dummy!" Arsalin giggled. "Brrr!" I helped unbutton her wet dress and she threw it off. "Alright, I'll handle the levers. Get your clothes off and get in that pool."

My boots clanked on the gleaming brass drain cover and I sat to take them off and set them behind me. So I had my shirt stuck over my head when there's a huge splash and I get hit with a flood of ice water!

"Vengeance is mine!" I laughed too. Sometimes she kinda reminded me of my little sis. When she wasn't being all dead serious like with the steward I mean.

I lay back and told Arsalin how the pool felt while she pulled ropes and levers to fill it up warm. There was just enough light to watch the muscles of her graceful body ripple. You couldn't see the little sags and wrinkles or the gray hairs till she got close. They only made her sexier anyway. A real woman, not just a girl.

She sat down with me and I gasped as she reached in and found me hard from watching her. "Mmm, I almost think you just doused me to get my clothes off faster. Talávan won't know what hit him." Her little tits were on display as she reached back for soap and cloth. "Now hold still."

Sploosh! Big bucket of water over my head! We were laughing again when she started scrubbing my back. No one had bathed me since I was a kid, and having hot water was new too. Well except for earlier that day I mean. Both were pretty nice.

She was singing something while she washed us. I didn't know the tongue, but it sounded kinda sad. Her voice was good though.

When the song was over, she soaped up her chest and then leaned against my back. "You feel so tense." I felt her warm, silky breasts slide up and down as she washed me with them. "It's almost like you don't like bathing with me."

"No, this is great. I just... fucking another guy?"

She smiled and slunk around me into the pool, "Mind if I taste you again?"

I shook my head, so she took a breath and slid under the suds and dark water. A pull on my ankles told me to scoot another step deeper, then she had me in her mouth again. I couldn't see her, but damn it felt good. She licked all over and even sucked me into her throat again before splashing out.

Arsalin gasped and wiped her hair off her face. "How was that?"

"Fucking great," I gasped a little too. It was different getting blown underwater. Maybe even better.

"Even though you couldn't see me?" She started washing my knees with the cloth.

"Well yeah, I mean-"

"Well the snowreader will feel like that too. Maybe not quite as good. I am something of a master of my craft," she winked.

There was no denying that.

"So just enjoy it. Picture me if you want. But keep him busy till eight." She scrubbed and talked quicker, "You're just the big, brawny, young type he likes. Like Asdan. You need to make sure he sees that without being too forward. Have him make the first move if you can, but make damned sure a move is made. Before seven! You following me?"

I was mostly just nodding along. Particularly right then since she'd sat back to wash between her legs.

She rubbed something flowery from one of the bottles into my hair. "It sounds like you're popular with the ladies back home- here, duck under the water." My hair came up clean. "So do what you do in Asvan. But there are pilgrims who come to this mountain, right? Act like one of them. You want his guidance. Get him real close and get talking. Work him into it. Seduce him. I doubt it'll be difficult. Asdan hasn't bedded him in weeks."

The tanner laughed, but waved for Sarasa to go on.

Well the more she talked about it, the more I felt like I could do it. I mean, I really was good at getting girls interested back in Savásias.

It couldn't even be half-past six, but Arsalin washed her hair quick and threw me a bunch of towels before grabbing torches from the walls. "Light! We need light." Her wet feet slapped on the floor as she took them to the heating fire to kindle.

The charcoal burner shifted another damp log onto their own fire as the thunder came closer again.

She sifted through the piles of men's and women's clothes by the new light. It was hard not to reach down and give her bare shoulders a rub.

"Here!" She handed back a pair of drawers, talking almost too fast to follow, "No, wait. No smallclothes. It'll be easier for him to see when you get hard. And less time for him to think after you start undressing." She went through another bundle. "I think white, wool breeches. That's normal here, right?"

"Right?" I managed. I'd never worn anything so short myself.

"Yeah these ones will do. Slip them on." They were baggy but they fit. "No stockings. Let him see those nice calves. The brown socks I think."

"No brown if I'm supposed to be a pilgrim," I tried to explain, "Blue, white, and yellow. Sky, snow, and sun."

"Ah, here's white then. I don't have much blue. Except this surcoat. Is all white alright?"

Asvan didn't have its own priest, so honestly I wasn't clear on the finer points of theolory myself. Theolagy? Thea... Religion. "Well... maybe if I was just devoted to Bastrava?"

"That's the snow god, right? So that's perfect, isn't it?" I wasn't sure, but she handed me a white shirt so small it almost left my arms and abs bare. "Perfect!" Next was a summer cloak that was more a pale gray than white. "Wear this back like it's too hot. Let him see those muscles." She ran her fingers over them, then held up a little jar of something oily. "And I'm putting this in your left belt pouch."

"What's-"

"When Talávan wants you in his ass, slather both of you up with that stuff or you'll hurt him. Whatever you think is enough is not enough. Use twice that much. Now get your boots on while I comb your hair." I hadn't come in the pool, so it was hard to focus on the laces with her naked behind me.

She smiled and held up her mirror for me, "Looking good, big guy. Talávan is a lucky man!" I really did look even better than usual. The neatly messy hair was a nice touch.

Arsalin pounced on the other clothes stack. "The 'Just-stopping-by-fresh-from-the-baths' look for me, I think." She belted on a little red robe and nothing else, "Ugh, I don't want to walk around this place barefoot, but he'll like that." She shook her wet hair back. "Ready? This way!" Her feet pattered in the corridors. Outside the sun was setting. "Can you find the way from here?"

I was always lost in that huge place.

"Damn. Well I think I can still make it." She led me east and the decorations got fancier again till we came to one last, long hallway. The windows were glassless to let in the red sky and there were loads of them, so it was cool and bright for a change. Out them I could see this was some sort of natural bridge over a chasm behind the rest of the castle.

"Alright," Arsalin talked fast, "Temple's at the end of the corridor. He's sent away all the guards so he can pray alone in there before- well, he'll be alone. Don't let him turn you away. Just barge in, ask pilgrim questions, and pour on the sexy like you would back home. Try to make it seem natural. Try to get him going by seven. Keep him till eight. Oh! And Asdan says Talávan likes to be pushed around in bed. Maybe you can use that."

It was too much too fast. And even after three goblets of wine I could hardly fucking believe what I was gonna do.

Arsalin looked up at me. "Hey, don't worry, big guy." She put my hands on her toned butt and wriggled. "Mmm. Just remember your motivation." I felt her fix up my hair and then pull me down to kiss my cheek. "Make me proud, my young apprentice." She hurried out and I made my way down the hall.

So the temple door was huge. Like twenty feet high. I checked if light was coming from under it, but the passageway was too bright for me to tell.

You know, somehow just throwing the door open sounded better than knocking. Knocking would be like saying I knew I shouldn't be there. It looked really heavy, so I gave it a hard shove.

Whoah! I almost fell down the stairs just inside, but I caught myself on a bronze statue. The door was unlocked and really light on its hinges.

Looking around, it wasn't much like the churches and such in Savásias. Dark for one thing, only the middle of the big, long room was open to the sky. And it looked tricky to get around with all the steps down from the rim to the middle and the drainage trenches and stone pews everywhere.

After my eyes adjusted, I saw there were tall, stained glass windows in nooks along the walls -little chapels maybe. But not much light got in since they were blocked by giant, bronze statues of Bastrava, Avsava, and Salárava. Added later I bet. We didn't have statues or icons back home. Dad always said the sky's plain to see, so there's no point pretending Avsava looks like a man instead.

It seemed empty, so I figured the snowreader was gone. I almost felt disappointed. Just because I'd be letting Arsalin down if he was, I mean. That's why I kept looking around.

I really felt like I didn't belong there. Crazy, right? I mean, maybe I'm not so holy, but they were still my gods and my father's gods and his father's gods and all. So it was my temple too. But it wasn't like the family shrine or the churches back home. No, it was dark, dusty, smoky, closed-in, and full of shit that looked too fancy to touch. Like the rest of the castle.

Actually, I think I kinda wanted to go in further because I didn't belong there.

"It's like... walking on a frozen pond," Sarasa tried to explain. "Wait, do they get cold enough to freeze where you're from?"

Karan tapped the side of his chair, "Lake Figo and Corcosa sometimes froze clear across."

"I was a boy, but I remember even the sea did in the Black Winter of '25," the fisherman told the fire. "I've never been south of the capital, but it must be like your Savásias."

"Wait, aren't we south of Sindirn now?" The tanner tried to sketch a map on the sod floor, but gave up. He turned to the charcoal burner. "The snow never melts in the south of Veirandr, but in Isva we hear that north of the Wide Waste are the brown Hijez Mountains and beyond are lands that know no winter.

He had to repeat it before the old man could confirm, "I saw my... first... snow here."

The tanner asked his next question in Zhendrian before translating it to Taldrish for the others, "We hear many things in Isva, not all true. Some of you men from beyond the waste say that it's cool again even farther north."

The charcoal burner's long, white beard swished as he shook his head, "The... jungles never end."

Sarasa actually waited for them to finish while he took a long draught, "Well... I guess I was trying to say sometimes you go walking on a frozen pond. And it's like you almost want it to crack just to hear the huge snap."

The others looked at him blankly.

"Oh come on, I'm not the only one. Well I'm saying going into the temple felt like that. I didn't want the ice to break, but I knew it would if I went further, so somehow I just had to do it. You know?" He'd lost his train of thought and eventually shrugged and skipped ahead. "Look, the important thing is I went in."

Sure enough, the statues were blocking up little chapels, but there was room to look past some. The sunset and colored glass made it hard, but what a view! I could see past the chasm and the shadowy castle and way down into the pass. There were so many lights down there. Like red stars. I mean, I'd heard Vanávas was big, but it couldn't be that huge!

"I read it's the biggest city in the whole world!'" the equerry nearly spilled ale on his velvet tunic. "They call it the 'Rose of the Bastravalas.' The Signore says Raim is bigger though."

"I never knew," Sarasa breathed. "Someday I've got to see it right, not just from a window."

Anyway, after a bit I followed an odd draft up front and saw the three great altars I'd heard of all my life. Alabaster for Bastrava with the divining snow bowl on top of it, Lapus... Lapiz... that blue rock for Avsava, and gold for Salárava. Well I think it was gold. And either it was a trick of the light or it was glowing! I took a closer look.

What I thought were dark stripes were actually rows of tiny carvings. The other altars had them too, but the gold one actually had two layers! You could juuust see through the gaps between people and scenery in the foreground to another set of scenes in the back! And inside there were tiny candles- real beeswax, not just tallow- so the whole thing glowed. No idea how they got the candles in and out.

"Tiny, gold tweezers," Karan blurted. "You mean anyone can just walk in and see Lasara's Altar?"

"What? No, the altar's to Salárava. The sun." Sarasa scratched his head. "Wait, is that what you call him in the Republics?"

"No, we don't worship your gods in the League," the tanner explained. "Lasara's the goldsmith who made the altar."

The equerry nodded eagerly. "That altar is eighth in Gorai's 'Ten Great Triumphs of the Hands of Man.' "

The tanner snorted. "Detailed but secondhand at best. He certainly never went to Isva or he'd have known-"

"Shit, the altar's one of them?" The bowyer frowned. "It was pretty amazing, but I wouldn't have gone a thousand miles to see it."

The tanner ignored Sarasa. "Sorry, Karan, I forgot Gorai was a Daraigath too. It's not a bad book." He turned back to the bowyer. "I know a man who said some of them are well worth the trip. Everyone should see the Brass Fountain and the Flametower- though they weren't really made by man." Karan grudgingly held his peace and let him go on. "You'd love our fountain, Sarasa," the tanner tried out the name. "But even I'll concede that there's no beating the Great Bridge of Raim for grandeur." He grinned fiendishly. "On with the story! I want to hear how much fun your priests are before I decide if I should check out that temple myself."

Uh... right. So I'm looking at the altar when I hear something behind me. I turn around casual and I'm like, "Hello."

And the guy who'd been lying on the stone bench snorts and wakes up. Oh.

I didn't recognize the snowreader right off, but his tricolor silk robe and scarf gave it away.

He was maybe forty, but bleary eyes and the bald patch in his graying hair made him look older. Kinda scruffily unshaven and fat. Like potbellied I mean.

So he sits up and blinks at me. He had sorta a fat, wrinkly face. But browned from lots of sun, not like most of the nobles I'd seen that day.

I knew I was safe when he jumped up and fixed his half-open robes. It's like when you run into a bear in the woods. It's scary as fuck till it spooks and runs, then you know it was scareder of you.

None of the others hurried to admit they had never personally scared off a bear.

He was short too. Like shorter than some of you guys even. Anyway, I still didn't really think anything was gonna happen between us, you know? I mean, he was the high priest. But I knew I had to start talking before he kicked me out and I figured I could pretend I didn't know who he was.

"Clever," the tanner agreed. "Making him choose between losing the authority or the dignity of his office."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that," Sarasa said, "I just thought maybe I'd get in less trouble if I didn't know he was so important.

So I'm like, "Evening! I was hoping to meet another pilgrim!" And I sat down so he'd have to too.

Up close, I could see his eyes were really bloodshot. Maybe being snowreader was harder than I thought. Or maybe he'd been drinking as well as dozing; I did smell something on his breath.