by Astor, Jade
Charis blushed. Obviously, Zav had no idea that what had been done to him had been completely unheard of and quite probably illegal. He thought the harem boys were more like slaves or indentured servants, to be traded or sold off at will.
“Still, their loss was my gain,” Zav went on. Charis didn’t have the energy to correct him, so he let the error stand. “I think I’ve been lucky to have you around, too, even if you can’t stay forever. You have been a great help to me since we joined forces. And I don’t just mean with the cloth.”
His clear, dark eyes met Charis’, and his gaze seemed to caress his face. Charis’ blush deepened. Hastily he gulped his wine.
“I remind you of Siphu, you mean.”
“No. You are nothing like him. Please forgive me for blurting out his name last night, Charis. I was deep in my cups, and you mustn’t take my drunken ramblings to heart. Whatever happened last night, it is only you I am thinking of right now.”
Suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed Charis full on the mouth. Charis couldn’t deny that he liked it—Zav was a handsome man, after all, and his little scruff of beard had an endearing way of tickling Charis’ chin. But Charis held back, and Zav realized it.
After supper, Charis returned to his bedroll in the corner and Zav went back to his bed. They exchanged their goodnights pleasantly, though Charis detected a hint of strain in Zav’s voice.
He fell asleep thinking again of Prince Vidnar, and all the things Charis would tell him about when he finally returned him.
To his surprise, though, when he woke in the night, he wasn’t imagining Vidnar beside him. He was dreaming of Zav.
*~*~*
They were busy showing and cutting cloth when a tall, silver-haired man in a flowing purple garment came striding through the sales hall. A ring of people dressed more modestly, like servants, flocked around him and carried various bundles and purchases. The merchants from all the neighboring stalls rushed forward to greet and flatter him, offering him free samples and eagerly soliciting his business.
“Who is that?” Charis asked in wonder.
“That is Masylion,” Zav answered. “He is very rich. Everyone seeks him as a patron. However, his tastes are so exclusive that he rejects most offers outright. I am pleased to say he often buys from us. The garments he is wearing now were cut from our own cloth.”
With a supercilious expression Charis found nothing less than offensive, Masylion stepped up to their stall examine the various bolts of cloth. He made a great show of touching, stroking, and unrolling everything that interested him. His servants clustered around him, watching his movements with great interest and awe. Zav’s brothers practically pushed one another out of the way to assist him, their eyes gleaming as brightly as the coins they no doubt anticipated receiving. Charis was glad that Zav did not behave so foolishly. He retained his dignity and stood by, answering Masylion’s question in a calm, professional manner. Charis admired his refusal to grovel like most every other merchant in sight. Masylion might have been rich, but Charis saw nothing especially admirable about him.
Finally, Masylion looked up, directed a scornful gaze at each of the three brothers in turn, and actually scowled at Charis.
“The hall is too crowded and noisy to allow me to make my selections with a clear head, he announced. “You must bring your finest inventory to my villa first thing in the morning, Zav. I will be there when you arrive. I trust your brothers can attend the stall for you while you are with me.”
Charis saw the brothers’ mouths drop open, as though they were about to protest, but neither of them dared say anything. A cutting glance from Zav wiped the insolent expressions from their faces.
“Of course, my lord. I would be delighted. My assistant, here, will attend me with your permission.”
Masylion waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Yes, yes, of course. You can hardly be expected to carry so much cloth by yourself. Until tomorrow, then.”
Without waiting for further negotiation, he turned and stalked off. Obsequious vendors, as well as his entourage of servants, trailed after him until he disappeared from sight. He paid them no mind.
“How do you like that?” Sudar griped, crossing his arms over his chest. “Zav gets to go, and not us. Not a speck of justice in this world, is there?”
“He’s right, though,” Zav said, biting back a smile. “Someone has to stay and attend to the customers here.”
“Easy enough for you to agree,” Rohin grumbled. “You might not be so cooperative if he’d singled out one of us.”
“What is so great about his villa?” Charis asked. “Why does everyone want to go there?”
“You’ll find that out soon enough.” Sudar’s voice dripped with envy, like honey slathered on gilla bread.
Charis turned to Zav and raised an eyebrow. “We are going, then?”
“Oh yes,” Zav told him, his grin widening. “Most assuredly.”
*~*~*
They set out soon after the next sunrise, as soon as Zav had retrieved two of the xoxobeasts from the boarding area and hitched them to the wagon. Masylion’s villa lay tucked away in a quiet valley just beyond the city walls, far from the noise and smell of the dome and its surrounding streets. Here, chaos gave way to a serene natural order, with groves of brightly colored fruit trees, a large lake, and a scattering of small but exquisitely designed outbuildings. Some appeared to be pleasure pavilions set in various shady areas, but at least one structure was a perfect replica, in miniature, of the theater Charis had attended with Zav so recently.
“Do you like it?” Zav asked as he drove the wagon along the winding path that led to Masylion’s house. They could see it in the distance, a vast white structure that rivaled the royal palace Vidnar and his brothers called home.
“I think it is as close to perfection as I have ever seen,” Charis admitted, wide-eyed.
“I’d like to buy a villa like this for myself—not quite as fancy, of course, as I will always be a man of modest means. For years, I’ve been putting aside part of the profits I make on the cloth. Eventually, I plan to turn the business over to my brothers and become a country gentleman.”
“You don’t enjoy traveling?”
“I don’t hate it. But I can’t do it forever. I think everyone wants to come home to the same place every night—the same dinner table, the same bed…”
“The same mate?”
“Yes. Surely that.”
“I take it Siphu didn’t want the same thing.”
“I thought he did at first.”
“Do…do you despise him for leaving you?”
Zav shook his head. “He had to do what felt right for him. I don’t believe in forcing anyone to be with someone who doesn’t please him. That’s why I don’t approve of what my brothers did to you. I hope it wasn’t too terrible for you, though.”
“No. I’m grateful to you for your kindness. And I’ll never forget the travels we went on. The world is far different than I had imagined before I saw more of it.”
“There’s plenty you haven’t seen, too. The sea, for example.” Zav pointed to the lake, shimmering off to their left. “Like that, only vaster and more powerful. Waves higher than a building.”
Charis stared. He could almost see what Zav was talking about just by watching his fingers rise and fall in the air and letting his imagination do the rest. Seeing his dazed expression, Zav laughed.
“Well, maybe you’ll get to see all that one day. I’ll see it again soon, too. I don’t have enough money to retire yet, though a few more sales to Masylion will help. We come here every season. He has been good to us. He buys my cloth not only for garments, but for his beddings, his draperies, and even tents. He has a good eye and an even larger treasure chest. But you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough.”
He flicked the reins, and the xoxobeasts moved faster.
Chapter 8
Soon after their arrival at the house, they attended Masylion in one of his spacious salons
. He reclined on a wide and obviously soft couch—possibly covered with some of Zav’s cloth—and smiled when they spread out large bolts of fabric all over the floor. Charis moved around the room, smoothing wrinkles from the displays and turning the patterns toward Masylion so he could see them from the most flattering angle.
“I like this new assistant of yours, Zav,” Masylion said, watching Charis with approval. “He has a feel for cloth. What competitor did you lure him from? Or did you simply snatch him from one of the stalls when no one was looking?”
Charis’ cheeks burned while Zav smiled uneasily.
“It’s true he did come to me most unexpectedly, my lord. He expressed interest in learning the business. So far I’ve been highly pleased with his skills.”
“He strikes me as competent and determined. I don’t suppose you would be willing to part with him? My tailor could use some help here. He is appallingly slow with the garments I order. Doubtless he could use some help.”
“With all due apologies, my lord, I need Charis on my wagon. My brothers are not always as efficient as I would wish.”
“Hmph. I was afraid you might say that. I suppose I must make do with what I have. But if you ever change your mind, young man, you need only present yourself at my door.”
Charis bowed the way he had been taught to in the harem training sessions. He was grateful that his posture hid his reddened face. “You are most kind, my lord.”
“He has manners, too.” Masylion raised his silvery brows. “Will I ever find another one like this? Young men today are so crude and vulgar. They think only of their own pleasures, but are too impatient even to enjoy those.”
Clearly eager to change the subject, Zav gestured toward the cloth draped all over the room. “Have you decided, my lord?”
“I shall take all of them. Why not? I can well afford it. My treasurer will pay you after you stay for dinner.” He waved his hand. “I am planning a great feast tonight, and you and your assistant must attend and stay the night afterward. My servants will take you to a guest room now. We will eat at sundown—until then, feel free to amuse yourselves in any way you like. My estate is open to you in every respect.”
Zav bowed and echoed Charis’ thanks while servants led them from the room.
“Our master will speak with you again at dinner,” one of the attendants informed them as he opened adjoining chambers and waved them inside. “Dress formally. The guests will dine on the rear portico.”
“Formally?” Charis asked when they were alone again. He looked down at himself in dismay and touched his middle. Another feast? He would have to roll back into Resedna at the rate he was eating these days. “I have nothing formal to wear!”
“Don’t worry. We’re cloth merchants! Looking our best should never be a problem for us. Granted, I’m not a tailor, but I’ve learned a few tricks with a needle over the years.” Zav winked. “And I didn’t show Masylion quite all our samples. I held a few back for our own use. All we have to do is go out to the wagon and get them.”
They headed back outside, but before they went to pick out some fabric for themselves, they took a stroll through the fruit trees they had seen from the road. While they walked, Zav plucked a plump steenango fruit from the branches and fed it to Charis.
“Do you like it?” he asked as Charis wiped the thick juice from his lips.
“Delicious. But won’t we get in trouble?”
“He won’t notice one missing. Besides, Masylion is a generous man. He told us to make use of his estate, remember?”
“He is indeed most generous.” Charis wondered if the royal family back home treated even their favorite tradesmen so well. He recalled what Zav had said about being confined only to certain parts of the palace and harem when they came to sell cloth there. He wondered if Masylion kept anything resembling a harem for himself.
“Maybe my villa could supplement its income by selling fruit,” Zav mused, finishing off the steenango and tossing the rind away. “There must be ways to earn money that don’t involve cloth. Perhaps I could even train actors and send them out to perform in various villages and at royal festivals. As their manager I could take a percentage of the income they bring in.”
“I am sure you could make a success of whatever you attempt,” Charis said with admiration. Zav’s vision and determination continued to impress him, and he had no doubt he would one day own the estate of his dreams. Part of Charis wished he would be able to see the place for himself, though he would no doubt return to Prince Vidnar long before that happened.
Back at the wagon, which sat parked near the stable area where the xoxobeasts were again relaxing in borrowed stalls, Zav went to work and in no time came up with amazing garments for the two of them—a pale blue tunic with a wide black sash for Charis, and a white and red one with longer sleeves for himself. When he tried it on, and saw how much older and more authoritative it made him look than his decorative harem garb, Charis realized that he would return to the city a very different person than the one who had left. He knew Vidnar would see that, too. Perhaps he would even take a new and more responsible place in Vidnar’s household.
A quick pain pierced his heart as he watched Zav putting the finishing touches on their new outfits. Zav was so talented and intelligent, not to mention kind and fair—really, Charis had never met anyone like him before, either inside or outside the harem. Siphu had been a fool, certainly. Any man would be lucky to have Zav as his lover. No doubt he could have his choice of many if he made his needs known, though it seemed he was too focused on tending to his business to do that.
Jealousy prickled the back of Charis’ neck when he imagined Zav taking another man to the comfortable bed in the corner of the wagon. But then, it was only right that he should be concerned about Zav’s future. They were friends, of a sort, and Charis did not want to see him wounded any more than Siphu had already done. His involvement went no further than that. It could not.
*~*~*
Masylion’s outdoor dinner consisted of wide tables arranged on a huge stone portico, all of them heaped with rich food to suit every possible taste. Tall torches blazed at every corner, while three nearly full moons gave the surrounding countryside a mellow silver glow. The party was well attended, attracting people who seemed to be from neighboring villas as well as other distinguished and well-dressed guests who had traveled from much greater distances. Some even spoke in languages Charis had never heard before.
Though everything he sampled was delicious, Charis found he had no desire to indulge in the feast. Standing around and chatting with his social superiors made him nervous, as did the fact that he had no idea what role he should play at the gathering. Part of him felt he should be serving the food instead of being waited on, no doubt a result of his intensive and deeply ingrained harem training. Zav remained at his side throughout the dinner, occasionally refilling his goblet or popping food into his mouth the way he had among the fruit trees.
“You look uncomfortable,” he said after observing Charis for a while. “You aren’t enjoying yourself?”
“Please don’t think I am ungrateful.” Charis swallowed. Zav was standing close to him…so very close. His thick dark hair shone in the torchlight, looking soft and ready to be touched. The tiny scrap of beard on his chin seemed to frame his mouth, making it look swollen and ready for a kiss. Charis shook his head. This place…this wine…was confusing him. “It’s just that…I feel out of place.”
“I understand. Here, I think I can help.” Zav took his hand, led him across the portico, and tugged him down a set of wide stone steps. Charis wondered if they were heading back toward the rows of fruit trees, but soon Zav turned in the opposite direction, toward the lake. “It’s a bit less crowded down here.”
A thin gravel path ran along the shore, leading across an expanse of sand and disappearing into a cluster of bushes and trees. Beside the path stood a few oddly shaped stone markers, one of which Charis stopped to examine more closely. To his surprise, h
e saw that the object was in fact a crudely carved statue that resembled a male figure in an aroused and fully erect state.
Zav laughed when he saw Charis staring. “Before this villa existed, these lands were sacred to the ancient ones. According to Masylion, they believed these statues would please the fertility gods and make the men more…shall we say…vigorous?”
“Did it work, I wonder?” Charis nodded, amused. Perhaps these carvings had inspired the smaller versions he had seen in the marketplace the day he had been abducted. There was so much about the outside world he didn’t know.
“Impossible to know now. We are a more advanced society now, and we no longer believe in such things as magic stones. At least, most people don’t. Personally, I’m not bold enough to insult the old gods, just in case there was some truth to them.”
They stared at the figure for a while and then began to move along the path again, their hands casually brushing together as they walked. Presently they came upon a small structure adorned with a domed roof and smooth pillars, its front facing the mirror-like surface of the lake. A few people were milling around it. Charis noticed that some of them—males and females alike—were wearing almost nothing. One woman was laughing as a young man playfully chased her off into the nearby woods.
“This is the bathhouse.” Zav explained. “I didn’t realize there would be so many people about. I’m sorry.”
Charis didn’t respond. He was staring, rapt, at two beautiful young men kissing on the shore. Their bodies were silhouetted against the largest of the three moons as they pressed their bodies and their lips together.
“It looks as though some of the other guests desired a more private setting, too,” Charis whispered.
Zav placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can go if you like. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed. They love one another. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Of course I do.”