Turn 11A--Results, B
The army moved as if it were straining as one. Somehow, his goal had gotten out, and they made better time than expected. Of course they did. They wanted an excuse to stop there, and do so for more than an evening and a morning. And as the army hurried onward, he decided to sacrifice speed temporarily for comfort. The army stopped a day ahead of schedule just a half hours march from the town, from Ulis, which had the famous hot-springs bathhouse whose spirits were said to greatly enhance healing, and whose waters were said to be sacred. A hundred thousand men would quickly overwhelm even their enormous baths, but spread out over an entire day, at least a decent number of men could bathe there.
And those that couldn't would have to just do it in camp, or they'd not care because they'd bathed the day before and go into town to find women or things to buy or entertainment in general.
It wasn't just baths, there, and Kiralo was going to be part of the rush. But first he had something to deal with.
Ayila's tent was far away from the tents of the others. It was at the ragged middle edge of the huge camps, strung out but close enough for patrols, that defined the army. There was no way a single camp could fit a hundred thousand and more fighting men and all of the support and camp followers and hostlers that all were part of that. So instead, there was a chain of camps, connected by regular exchange of spirit messages and the movements of scouts, so that there was no way to attack one section without soon engaging the entire line.
Even so, it was still a vulnerability, but one that was necessary. There was no way to have a single camp that fit a hundred thousand people that was set up and unpacked in a single night. Another name for a camp with well over a hundred thousand people was… perhaps a barracks, but more properly?
A city.
So that wasn't going to happen. Kiralo made his way to Ayila's tend, and stamped his foot outside of it. He knew that others were watching him, probably at all times. Spies and scouts, and maybe even assassins, though he knew that they would not strike against him quite so soon.
At least not against him. She stepped out, looking up at him for a moment, rubbing her eyes. It was the very earliest hour of dawn, and she looked as if she had been asleep, though she was at least fully dressed. "Yes, sir?"
"Call me Kiralo," Kiralo said. "I know that you won't have anywhere to go in the town, and I was wondering if you had given that thought?"
"Yeah. I've thought about it, but it's fine. I don't need to relax," Ayila said, and Kiralo almost laughed. It was the way she said it, that made him think of himself as a child. She clearly wanted to do something, go somewhere, she clearly wasn't used to military life in one sense, but then how many people were?
But she also wanted to look mature, and so the young, vibrant woman was closing herself off, acting as if she were an adult, and more than an adult, one who was wrapped in the dignity of work.
"You don't need to, but you want to," Kiralo said. He nodded, "Someone should. I'm relaxing as well."
"I can see it," Ayila said, "or rather I can see the stress." Her own spirits stuck close to her, almost unnoticeable.
"Apparently I'm fated to die," Kiralo said with a shrug, playing up his own front. "It is annoying, certainly."
"Really?" Ayila said. She stared at him, "And you didn't see fit to--"
"Of course I didn't tell anyone," Kiralo said quietly. "It's something I can deal with. Prince Jinhai needs me dead if he wants a sure victory. It's possible he could defeat me in battle, but battle is chaos. Anything can happen, and he wants a sure thing. So he'll try to kill me. But not yet, I don't suspect. So, there is a lake nearby, if you wanted to take an escort for a day trip."
"Really? Who would I take that would preserve my honor by your Csiritan standards," she asked, and then slipped into high Southlander for the next words. "There are risks to everything." She was looking at him with dark, curious eyes, "would you be my protector if I asked?" From the way she was saying it, she knew it wasn't going to happen, perhaps didn't even want it to be happen. It was a test, like everything was a test.
Kiralo smiled and said, "I would be happy to grant my protection, but I have other matters to deal with."
Ayila looked at him, agog, "You mean you're going to go to the town? I thought you'd just stay back at camp and do paperwork otherwise."
"Why did you think that?"
"Well," Ayila said, and then blinked. She began to laugh, "I guess I thought you were older than you were? Csiritans all look strange to me, and so it's hard to tell."
Kiralo, who had been in the Southlands most of his life, and had met people of all sorts of appearances, hadn't really had that trouble. It had seemed odd at first, in a way he hadn't even really considered, to see so many people whose features were closer to his, but it hadn't been quite so bad. He wondered about how it was to her. "Yes, I am twenty-five… no, six. Twenty six years old." They didn't celebrate the day of birth in Csirit, not particularly. It had come and gone, and now he was older.
"Ah, so you're going to find a woman?" Ayila asked, with a frankness that wasn't appreciated.
"Yes, yes I am," Kiralo said. "And you're going to find a relaxing day by the lake. You can handpick your guard, and feel free to draw from the Mages we have, since they might be more open."
"That's surprisingly nice," Ayila said. "If you need help with the dangers...I can help you. I should help you, really. I'll think of what I can do, when I get back…"
Kiralo nodded.
"Happy hunting," Aylia said.
******
The first thing I do when I get into a town is see where the inn is, of course. But the second thing is to ask around at the inn. Where are the prostitutes and the women of loose reputation? But then, do you really want to sleep with them? If you are a weary traveler who has no energy to search out, the answer is yes, but in my experience, the risk of disease is too great, and the impurity is notable.
Instead, I look for willing women, widows and daughters to seduce, or the women working at the inn. There are many places to look, but it is the tiring lot of the traveler that unless they spend time looking, they will find that the right woman is hard to locate.
Too many are attached to their continence, and too many are too loose with it.
Sometimes, then, a risk must be taken.
--A traveler's guide from the last century.
******
It was a lovely town, though a far too large one. Its walls had to stretch mightily to accommodate the baths, but the idea of being unprotected was clearly thought heinous. If a raid or bandits destroyed the hot springs bath-houses, then the whole town would be poorer for it, and so they maintained their small, unimposing wall, ringing around the springs but not the outlying farms. The construction was simple, slanted roofs, bright colors where it could be afforded, and unpaved streets.
Though there were posts, here and there, on which were hung lamps that would be lit when it got darker, to guide people to and from the baths. The famous night baths of Ulis, where a man might walk safely from home to the bath and back, finding time after all work is done to bathe. It was said that every townsman who could bathed every single day, an act that even Kiralo, raised to higher-class standards, thought almost ridiculously indulgent, but perhaps fitting.
This was a town that could afford it, and now it was a town turned upside down by the stream of thousands of people into it. It wasn't small as a town, and so when five thousand people came with the morning rush, it was enough to overwhelm and dominate the town, but not by as much as Kiralo had feared. Still, the men far outnumbered the population of the town, though he had heard rumors that women and men from all across the nearby area had rushed in.
Merchants, prostitutes, people who flitted the line between these two, priests to join those at the local temple, a small, two-roofed building at one corner of the town--
It was a mess, certainly. But it was a mess that could be managed. Everyone except the General and the highest ranking figures had to have specific passes to allow them to go, and other groups were riding to other towns--some men didn't care that much about the bath-houses, after all--and there was going to be a turnover. Party after party washing in and washing out, like waves depositing salt against a shore.
And amid that, Kiralo asked very careful questions. Or rather he went to the inns and listened. Especially with his fears of disease, and the way he was trying to discourage it in the army, he wouldn't want the obvious people, he wouldn't want to risk becoming infected at a time when every little pain or ache could spell weakness, and where weakness could spell death.
So he strolled on a fine day and listened. And then he heard, and thought.
"It's not right, they're making a mess of the whole town," an older man said. He was in his thirties, with a substantial belly, and a hairy face, his features blown up, but retaining a trace of good looks that were not entirely Csraean in origin. Kiralo of course couldn't place it, but he had to guess that there was some Basrat in him. He was not an attractive person at all, and his voice was far too loud, "I should talk to someone about it."
"Oh, right brother," a younger man said, "You're going to walk up to the General, whoever he is, and tell him that he shouldn't have his men spend his money here."
The younger man looked interesting. He had soft lips, but a strong jaw, and a nose that didn't draw attention away from his dark eyes. His hair was longer than expected, and wrapped into braids, with different colored bands and ornaments all making Kiralo think of someone who took great care about his appearance. He was somewhat short, and while clearly not running to fat, he had a substantial look about him. It was a very solid build, and if he were a peasant, it would be muscular. Instead it was merely solid, with large hands and even larger feet. He was wearing a silk jacket in a red that seemed to perfectly match the slightly different shade of his face, the hint of Basrat that had been noticed on his brother.
"Well, I would say it! I would--" the older man said.
Kiralo stepped forward. He was dressed in armor, though it wasn't his imperial armor, instead being a little lighter, more like that of a Rassit, and with tight fitting pants. Those, those were an affectation: Rassit wore pants like that, but far more comfortable. They were the kind of pants that a Rassit might wear before going out to impress someone. It was where he'd styled them. And his vest was similarly simple, beneath the leather and lamellar chest
"Yes?" Kiralo asked.
"Wah," the older man said, "Who are you?"
"General Cs-Kiralo, Envoy to the Army from the Emperor, Poet of the first rank, and currently in charge of this Imperial Army." Kiralo smiled, "And you are?"
"He's Chao-lu, the richest merchant in the town, and I am Cheng-Da. The accomplished journey," Cheng-Da said, gesturing to his brother, "The heir and the one who is spare. An accomplished goal." He smiled, and it was a toothy, rich smile that complicated his face.
"What are your objections?" Kiralo asked, a little stiffly, glancing over at Chao-Lu.
"Just…" Chao-Lu was looking at him with something like horror, not having expected to be overheard, "It seems as if all of this is bad for the morality of the town."
"Well, walk with me and tell me your objections," Kiralo said, watching, truly, Cheng-Da. There were ways that a person could tell…
******
Baths are a way to get closer to the Gods, but also a simple social act. In a springs, there are often many different baths, or rooms entirely devoted to bathing in which water is pumped in. The richer separate themselves from the poorer, and yet the essence of a bath is a communal vibrancy.
The possibilities are endless, as I have discovered…
--A traveler's guide, published three decades before.
*******
There are signs that one can look for. Flirtation is a game that can be played by women, but it does their reputation no good. But among men of some breeding, how do you know if a particular man is adverse to your actions? In court, it is easy enough, in a way, but what about in less fortunate places?
*******
It was an experience of individual impressions. There was the warmth of the bath, the way his muscles all unwound themselves on cue. It was the smell of the soaps. It was the way that when his hand moved to touch Chang-Du on the shoulder, the other man hadn't flinched, and had begun to talk about the food that the army offered.
There was a sort of code there. Kiralo looked at the other man, truly took him in, judging and thinking of it. He was not beautiful, but there was something attractive about the young man (two or three years younger than Kiralo) and his flippancy, and his appearance was certainly interesting.
Baths were certainly a chance to take another man more fully in, and in such a situation, it was impossible not to notice when someone was noticing you too. Kiralo wondered whether Chao-Lu realized just how much flirtation was going on under his nose.
Certain words that were said that meant other things, certain gestures that coveyed short, sharp desires. It was still early in the morning, and Kiralo had plenty of time if he wanted to take it slow, and yet there was that look in Chang-Du's eyes. There was hunger there that couldn't be denied, and Kiralo used that.
He flexed his muscles just so as he stood to rise from the bath, and stretched his body, showing off the lean, strong muscles of his body, the control he had over his form. Chao-Lu was an awkward, fat, hairy man, whose complaints got nowhere, but Chang-Du?
There was time. Time for him, and it was unlikely that he was diseased, at least at Kiralo's first guess.
The playful second of three sons, their father was senile, and that meant that, except when the father intruded, Chao-Lu was in charge. The older brother ordered the younger one around, but in a single, simple moment, when Kiralo smiled, when Kiralo introduced himself, he overwhelmed any power that the older brother might have had on the younger.
*******
His eyes traced a jawline strong enough that he could picture in lovely detail reaching out and grabbing it. Firmly, his fingers molding to it as if made for it, as if it were a statue, and then pulling forward, and forward, until lips met lips. And then until more than lips met. And then until far more met, and--
******
"I'm glad that my brother finally got the hint," Chang-Du said, "Though...what are you doing?"
"What am I doing?" Kiralo asked. They were in a medium-sized house. Chang-Du's house, in fact. It was like every house Kiralo had been in, in Csirit. There was a green vase to liven things up, and on the wall was a scene of a mountain hot-spring, the colors rendered perfectly, but Csiritan houses, with their succession of small, private rooms were--
Convenient, actually, Kiralo realized with a smile. "I thought that I was running my hand through your hair. I thought I was removing the jewelry."
"But why?"
"Because I want to see it gone." They were clothed, sitting on a small bed of sorts, and Kiralo was taking out the jewelry, the bands and the cloth. His own hair was already unbound, having been held together in a single braid by a simple cloth. The elaborate styles, like Chang-Du's, were lovely to look at, and just as lovely to remove, in a way.
Only children and lovers wore hair without anything in it. It was a form of nakedness as thorough as if Kiralo had stripped and thrown his arms wide open, revealing the fullness of his body. And so each time he removed something from the other man's hair, longer than was fashionable, and somewhat limp, but still having its own beauty, it was yet another thing out of the way.
"I mean, you're a general, and...Gods," Chang-Du groaned, "Can you do it faster?"
"No," Kiralo said.
"You are so cruel," Chang-Du said, as Kiralo slowly pulled out a hair pin, Chang-Du almost done.
"Yes, I am." Kiralo smiled, "And you are beautiful. Do you know anything about the Southlands?"
"No, of course not," Chang-Du said, "My brother is a pious patriot."
"Oh, I do not come to you with that many new secrets," Kiralo admitted. "After all, there are the ancient practices of the balance, and the sexual keys to long life, and the like. Though those--"
"Fuck those," Chang-Du said.
"Yes," Kiralo replied, simply.
*******
The act of a male and a male copulating together is sometimes helpful to balance someone whose male energies have been weakened and warped by female attention, but it is ultimately an insipid act, lacking in the ability to grant long-life and the cure to diseases that other practices offer. If one must do it, though, one should consider carefully the phases of the moon, and the relative position of the stars…"
--A 'balance' guide of the last century. Part of the mystical sexual practices of a sect of believers somewhere between heretics and accepted.
*******
"Do you have anywhere to be today?" Kiralo asked.
"What?" Chang-Du said, shocked. "I can't possibly...I mean, I suppose, if you're the one…"
"Spirits." Kiralo spread his hands wide, glad for once that he had the experience he did. There were secrets, there were tricks.
"Oh, well." Chang-Du. "I can always just be carried around in a litter like a little lord, if we're--"
Kiralo grinned. "Who said I was that simple. I am not Csiritan."
"...oh. Oh!" Chang-Du said, eyes wide with almost comical surprise.
*******
It was small elements that stood out. The annoyance of taking those damn pants off, the feeling of hot, sweating skin beneath his fingers. The looks of surprise and awe at some of Kiralo's acts. He didn't believe in this Csiritan dichotomy, where one took pleasure and one gave pleasure, his was a Southlander's mindset, and he found that Chang-Du was remarkably open.
He remembered stumbling into another room to grab something to eat and startling a poor maid.
He remembered the taste of Chang-Du's lips, and the smell of the room after hours and hours.
He would always remember Chang-Du saying, hours in, "I...shit. You know you've--"
"What?"
"How the fuck am I going to look at the sons of some other merchant and see them as anything but pasty, fat blobs after you?"
The joy, the almost childish excitement at the idea that he was something special in this regard, that--that would stick with a man. It was a boost to his ego. Not that he needed one, he was already sometimes far too proud of himself.
*******
Noon came. Noon went, unnoticed, knocking at the door but finding that everyone was occupied.
Chang-Du was a pleasant enough person, though his irreverence found the limits of its amusement in a number of crude jokes about dinner plans on the part of both of them. Kiralo didn't mind a little lewd humor, but he could certainly imagine how it might pall given time.
Sometime later, Kiralo was sitting in a chair, exhausted. Even all the spirits in the world couldn't change the fact that this was the sort of indulgence that was more Kueli's style. And it was true that Kiralo was getting older. He felt it in a few small ways, even though twenty-six was not all that old.
He looked at the naked, covered, sleeping form of Chang-Du, and contemplated leaving. But not yet.
Kiralo breathed in and out, and it was as if a weight had lifted itself from his shoulders. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to dance in the streets, or write poems about his exploits in the sheets. There were a few more hours until he really needed to leave. He stood up to stretch.
Sleepily, Chang-Du asked, "Where are you going? You can't be hungry. Not right now, can you?" An old joke, one he'd already used up. Though he at least added, after a second. "I can have a maid bring you up something to eat."
He gave a sleepy smile, and Kiralo flushed, mind still filled with the acts.
Kiralo nodded, "That would work."
And then they ate, and all was well for a time.
On top of losing the penalties to the trait from the two actions, you gain a little more. Choose two:
[] (You can sometimes be) Satisfied: Kiralo has had a really, really good experience here. He's in a very good mood. +1 to all dice rolls on personal actions, and his mood will be visibly and notably improved for the rest of the turn and next turn.
[] Bonus for 'Attractive' increased to +2 for same sex.
[] +10 to Vend only. Merchant connections, and all!
[] Spirit Guards: Ayila seconds a few of her spirits to guard over you.
[] Ayila working just for you: +5 to any one roll next turn. She had a good time, she's grateful for the latitude Kiralo showed her.
*******
A/N: So. Yeah. Tell me what you think.
