Climbing the Date Palm

by Shira Glassman

  Kaveh felt the grip around him loosen, and he noticed his partner’s arms were trembling. “Farzin? Are you all right?”

  Gasping, Farzin pulled away from him. “Yes, it’s-- I’m just worn out from being hungry. I’ve been a month without good sleep or good food.”

  “Sit down!” Kaveh dragged him back to the cushions where he’d initially found him. “Have you eaten since they let you out?”

  “It turns out my mother’s friends with Mother Cat from way back -- her name is Eshvat, by the way -- and she fed me before going to get you. They also cleaned me up a bit. I had a beard, and longer hair -- although, not as messy as yours!” He flashed Kaveh a goofy expression.

  So that explained the rosewater. “But you’re still hungry.”

  “I’m a growing boy.”

  “Not lately.” Kaveh looked him over, forcing himself to see Farzin’s shockingly reduced weight for the first time. “But I’ll get you back to normal. Wait ‘til you see what I learned from the queen’s sweetheart -- and personal chef.”

  A female voice at the doorway startled them both. “Feel free to use anything you want, but if you make a mess, either clean it up or pay for it.” They looked up toward the curtains and beheld Eshvat, Mother Cat, in her human form, all bosoms and kerchiefs as usual. “My magic’ll keep you safe within these walls until I get back. I’m going out looking for my own mess.”

  And with a flourish of skirts, she had disappeared again.

  “We’ve got the place to ourselves,” Farzin commented gleefully.

  “I’m going to cook for you,” Kaveh informed him, pulling his shirt over his head. Farzin grinned at the sight of Kaveh’s lithe, muscled chest, and the prince beamed at the attention. He left the shirt on a table and drew back the curtains so Farzin would be able to watch him cooking in the other room.

  Farzin leaned back against the cushions and admired the view. Kaveh bustled around the kitchen, aggregating rice and vegetables and some leftover meat he’d found together on the countertop. Now the rice was being heated in water, and with aggressive yet impeccably controlled motions, Kaveh diced carrots and leeks. He began to sweat in the heat of the kettle’s steam. “If you could see yourself right now, you’d be too distracted to cook,” commented Farzin, obviously enjoying himself.

  Kaveh instinctively looked down, and grinned when he realized his lean, toned chest was shining in the lamplight. “Maybe it’s your appetizer.”

  “Maybe I want seconds already.” Farzin rested his head against a nearby pillow and kept watching as Kaveh kept working. He looked for a moment as though he might fall asleep again.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, Kaveh saw Farzin stand again. He walked over to the kitchen and slipped behind his partner. Kaveh was concentrating on pulling apart pieces of leftover meat so it would fit into the pot and had assumed Farzin was getting up to get a drink of water or some other mundane errand; he therefore felt a lightning current of surprised arousal as instead Farzin’s hands appeared on both sides of his bare waist, Farzin’s body very close behind him, pressing into him. He gasped and dropped the lamb shank back into the dish, splattering the juice slightly.

  “I can’t help it,” Farzin murmured into the ear he was now nibbling. “You look like a statue come to life.”

  “You have to eat or you’ll pass out on me if we start-- if we--” Oh, how could Kaveh even remember how to speak with Farzin grinding into him like that! And with those demanding hands now owning his nipples. Aviva told him not to handle knives while distracted. Well, he was done with knife work. The vegetables and rice were simmering in the pot. “I’m almost done. I just have--”

  “You just have to add the meat, right?” Farzin grinned wickedly.

  Kaveh blushed at the innuendo. Quickly sliding the rest of the lamb into the pot, he succumbed to Farzin’s firm grip and let himself be spun around so his back was to the counter. Farzin claimed his mouth with a heavy, almost magnetic kiss and then brought his mouth lower to lick his nipples. Kaveh leaned back against the counter, seeing stars.

  But Farzin soon paused in his embrace and leaned over, panting and wobbly. Kaveh held him for a moment so he didn’t collapse. He helped him back to the cushions in the other room and returned to seasoning the meal, his body tingling. When everything was ready, Kaveh scooped it into a bowl and carried it into the other room, where he found Farzin fast asleep.

  This time, he didn’t close his eyes or say anything about death. He simply sat down beside him and put his hand on the exhausted man’s cheek.

  Farzin’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “Some beautiful bare-chested god is bending over me holding a bowl of... Wow, that smells amazing! -- and that he made himself, by the labors of his own hands. Maybe I did die.”

  “I’m going to fatten you up again,” said Kaveh matter-of-factly, “and then I’m going to make love to you.”

  “I can multitask,” said Farzin sleepily, reaching for Kaveh with one hand and the lamb curry with the other.

  Chapter 25: Date Night

  “Mmmm....” Shulamit submerged herself deeper in the tub of heated water and closed her eyes. “Is all that nonsense finally behind us?”

  “Long day,” Aviva agreed, leaning over the tub. She trailed a few fingers through the water and brushed against Shulamit’s shoulder.

  “Long month. I need to uncoil, and I don’t know how.”

  “Are you hungry? I can have someone send up some mangoes or something. Hey, Rivka!”

  “What are they arguing about?” Shulamit realized that far away, on the other side of the room, Rivka was arguing with Tivon through the closed door.

  “I’ll go see.” Aviva hopped away, leaving Shulamit to soak.

  Her departure was unnecessary – Rivka soon grew loud enough so that Shulamit could hear. “--a dozen angry farmers. I think I can handle a couple of dancers.” Rivka rolled her eyes.

  “Three,” Tivon corrected. “I’m not even sure they’re really dancers -- they don’t have a musician with them.”

  “We sing and clap!” shouted an affronted voice.

  “What’s going on?” Aviva asked.

  “There are some dancing girls out in the hallway,” Rivka explained. “They said Kaveh ordered them to dance for Shula.”

  Aviva started to chuckle. “Manna falling from the sky... wheatless manna!” she added, bounding back across the room.

  “What is it?” asked the queen.

  “Dancing girls.”

  “What? Actual ones or are you teasing?”

  “Kaveh sent them. But Tivon is pulling his usual thing where every lady for hire could have a knife between her breasts, and he doesn’t want to let them in.”

  “Like I care what he wants!” Shulamit was already out of the tub and toweling off. She pulled on a dressing gown haphazardly as she darted across the room, nearly missing a table and two chairs. “Tivon, let them in!”

  “As you wish, Your Majesty,” said a weary voice.

  “If you’re that worried, come in and watch,” Rivka pointed out as she opened the door. She gestured to the other guard. “We’ve still got him in the hallway.”

  “Fine.” Tivon entered the room, followed by three beautiful ladies in clothing that jingled and sparkled as they moved. The expression on his face clearly read Royalty... some want to bathe in wine, others love their own sex... while the rest of us have to work for a living. But under all that, Shulamit knew he did care about her welfare and would have protected her with his life if one of the dancers really did draw a weapon.

  Shulamit, enraptured, didn’t know where to look first. One was in pink, the second in bright orange, and the third the deep, rich purple of a red onion. Their hair flowed long and shining over their shoulders, decorated with delicate strands of silver fastened to their headbands. Plenty of skin was showing in so many beautiful ways -- soft cleavage, sculpted stomachs.

  Aviva took her hand and led her to some cushions where they could sit. Riv and Tivon remain
ed standing, vigilant and detached.

  “One, two, three!” With this cry from the one in pink, the ladies began to sing, dancing and clapping along with the music. The song had very frivolous lyrics, a combination of nonsense syllables selected for their musical effect and innuendos referencing every vegetable that even remotely resembled the male sexual organ.

  “This is amazing,” Shulamit murmured into Aviva’s ear, a little overwhelmed. “Those words are making me feel like I’m not supposed to be here, though.”

  “They could sing about melons instead,” Aviva suggested.

  “They’re singing about what they like. I don’t exactly have melons.” She gestured toward her chest.

  “Good point. Then they should sing about dates.” When she saw that Shulamit was making a face, Aviva added, “Don’t! Dates may be tiny, but think how sweet they are.” She sidled closer. “’You are slender like a palm tree; your breasts are clusters of sweet fruit.’ See, it’s even in the Song of Songs. And you’re also like a date tree because you’re going to be hand-pollinated.” Shulamit lifted one eyebrow to the moon, and Aviva grinned wickedly. “You did know that, right?”

  “Yes, my ‘book learning’ is good for something.”

  When the song was over, the dancer in pink drew closer to them. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing low. “We’re here to celebrate the glory of the female body. Let us show you how to feel more proud of yours.”

  “But I already--” Then Shulamit realized the dancer was beckoning to her. “What do you mean?”

  “If your Majesty accepts, we’ll teach you to dance so that you can move sensually for your new husband,” explained the dancer in orange.

  With a wide-eyed look at Aviva, Shulamit stood and let herself be led into the clear area of the room amidst the dancers. She figured out pretty quickly from the things they said to her that the dancers had seen her body language -- her discomfort at the male-oriented lyrics, her gestures at her small breasts -- and decided amongst themselves that the reason Kaveh had sent them to her room was so they could teach her their craft.

  Well, so what?

  Two of the dancers started to sing again, clapping and moving around, as the one in pink instructed Shulamit how to sway and jerk her hips around. She was shy at first, feeling her awkwardness enveloping her like a cloak, but she soon realized the grin on Aviva’s face was for her, and that she must not look so bad at it as she’d imagined.

  By the time the dancers left, she was feeling terrific and completely juiced up. Tivon returned to his post outside the room, and she was left alone with Aviva and Rivka again. She wished it was only her and Aviva, for obvious reasons, but Rivka was taking advantage of the discarded bath water and the privacy and was now scrubbing away the dust and sweat of the past few days.

  Shulamit paced the room, burning to touch Aviva, to sink into softness and lock together like the petals of a rosebud. Seeking distraction, she picked up the package in which Kaveh had brought her wedding dress and chuppah. As she unwrapped it, she realized there was something dark like chocolate mixed up inside the pile of white lace and chartreuse clothing.

  “Hey, Rivka! Kaveh accidentally brought your dress.” She rushed over to the bathtub, where Rivka had just climbed out and was drying herself off with a sheet of cloth. “From back when.”

  “Oh, please, Rivka, please put it on!” Aviva clapped her hands, her eyes wide. “I’d love to see your other plumage.”

  Rivka grunted. “Who says I’ll still fit into it?” She flexed her muscles.

  Shulamit shrugged. “Can we see?” She was beginning to have an idea of how to get Aviva alone even though Rivka was technically off-duty and had nothing to do.

  “No harm there.” The captain took the pile of brown finery and fiddled with it, looking for closures to open.

  Shulamit and Aviva went back to the other side of the room to finish unpacking Shulamit’s wedding clothes while Rivka finished putting on the dress. They had just finished spreading the lace chuppah out on a table to admire it when they heard a rustle.

  Rivka was shifting around in front of a mirror glass, looking at herself. She was bundled into the brown cloth like a bunch of fruit in a market seller’s tote, wet hair cascading over the bare skin of her upper chest.

  “Wow,” Shulamit couldn’t help saying. “You look really good.” Aviva was also looking at her admiringly.

  Rivka was moving around awkwardly. “I can still move my sword arm,” she observed. “But, oy. I can’t believe I sparred with Isaac in this dress.”

  Perfect. “You should go show him!” Shulamit grinned.

  “Oh, yes, Rivka, please let him see!”

  From both sides they pressed in on her. “You look so pretty!”

  “There’s a cloak over there -- just throw it over your clothing and surprise him.”

  “It’s dark in the hallways anyway.”

  “I love this pattern. I want a brown dress now.”

  “I’ll tell Aba when we get back.”

  “It won’t look as good on me as it does on Rivka -- with her golden coloring.”

  “Oy gevalt, you silly creatures!” Rivka threw up her hands. “Fine -- you want I should go, and I’ll go.” But she was smiling.

  Shulamit and Aviva helped bundle Rivka into the cloak, and then she tied her mask around her face as usual. “How do I look?”

  “Like usual,” said Shulamit.

  “Like a geode,” said Aviva.

  Rivka lifted an eyebrow at that one. “Back in a bit.”

  She opened the door. “Tivon? I’m supposed to go see Isaac and Kaveh about something.”

  Tivon and the other guard moved to the side to let her pass into the darkened hallway and then shut the door behind her.

  ***

  Rivka moved smoothly through the hallways, illuminated in some places only by moonlight pouring in through windows cut high into the red clay walls. She fit easily into the shadows and wasn’t noticed by many; here and there a servant passed her in the halls but she was cloaked and uninteresting, and if they were moving about this late at night it meant they had work to do and didn’t care who else was there.

  Here was Kaveh’s room -- but where was Isaac? He should have been outside the door, standing guard. She tensed up, every muscle ready for whatever was to come. Even without her sword, she was still a formidable force.

  She rapped on the door. “Isaac?”

  “Mighty One?”

  Relieved to hear his voice, she relaxed slightly. “Can I see you in the hallway for a minute? I’m alone.”

  “You should come in. Kaveh’s not here.”

  “What? Where is he?”

  “Come in and I’ll explain.”

  Rivka opened the door and stepped inside. It was a large room, flooded with silver light filtering through the white curtains that veiled every window. Isaac was at the far side of it, sitting at a small table eating something. She kicked the door shut behind her and approached him. “Where’s Kaveh?”

  “At Mother Cat’s, with Farzin. Here I sit -- here I watch.”

  “Farzin? I thought he left town with his mother?”

  “She’s leaving before sunrise,” Isaac explained. “She had something important and private to do first, so she left Farzin with Eshvat so that he and Kaveh could see each other again before she takes him home. I didn’t know either, but a little while ago I was standing outside the door, and suddenly I felt a cat brush up against my leg.”

  “Oh, you did?” Rivka smirked. “What are you eating?”

  “She brought me a midnight snack.” Isaac picked up another piece of food and gnawed at it, but didn’t put the whole thing in his mouth.

  Rivka drew closer and peered at the piece of leather that had held his meal, and now served as a makeshift plate. “Are those -- are those mice?” Even without the fur they were still unmistakable, and with their little intact paws curled up and their eyes shut they might have just been asleep.

  “Apparently
Aafsaneh repeated something Aviva told her about how I like to eat live mice when I’m a snake, and she... Don’t ask me how that woman’s mind works.” He returned the empty skeleton to the table. “You want to try one?”

  “No,” Rivka said quickly. She still hadn’t taken off her cloak, and it suddenly occurred to her that they were alone. In a very large bedroom. She longed to take him in her arms -- even if he was eating mice.

  “Were you looking for Kaveh or for me?” Isaac asked politely.

  “For you,” she said. “Shulamit wanted me to show you something.” She opened the cloak and let it fall to the floor.

  His eyes flashed, and there was an audible noise from his nostrils. “You were wearing that dress the night I first knew you loved me.”

  “My mother saved it and brought it down with her. Not that she knew.”

  “I remember seeing you, wanting you, thinking I had everything under control... that I could go the rest of my life without ever touching you but feeling you flavor my entire world... How arrogant I was.”

  You’re still arrogant, but I wouldn’t have it any other way, Rivka thought. Then she noticed he was looking down at the table and playing with something small and dark and solid. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing much.” An impish smile spread across his face. “Only a privacy charm Eshvat gave me to keep Jahandar from finding out Kaveh had left the building.” His gaze swept over Rivka’s body, then fixed squarely on her eyes. “As long as I have this, I control who can enter the room.”

  His eyes might as well have been his fingers, his tongue, more. She felt him everywhere on her from just that stare, her body tingling with anticipation as she drew closer. “Kiss me, mouse breath.”

  ***

  Across the city, Farzin lay sated against the dark-red cushions, a very naked Kaveh sprawled to one side of him and a very empty bowl to the other. Kaveh was munching on dried dates, which Farzin regarded with a wrinkle of his nose. “How can you eat more than one of those things? They’re so sweet!”