Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter

by Martine Carlsson

  “Look. There are hot strumpets over there,” Folc said, nudging Askjell.

  “Whores ridden with syphilis. You would fuck your coffin, even with a condom,” Louis said without raising his head.

  “Your notion of respect is much accommodating,” Lissandro scoffed. “Harlots are usually kind. But maybe you want to prohibit prostitution? Male included,” he added low.

  “Why would I?” Louis responded a bit too passionately, to Selen’s surprise. He caught Selen’s look and moved his lips into a no. Selen refrained from expressing any thought publicly. Louis turned to Lissandro again. “I agree that most are unlucky souls, and it’s a…necessary evil,” he added. “Unlike drunkenness, which is objectionable.”

  “Yeah. You know how to have fun,” Lissandro said, opening his eyes wide. Louis half lowered his eyelids.

  “You’re more into courtly love?” Folc asked Louis.

  “What a loss of time,” Louis snorted back at once.

  Lissandro raised an eyebrow. “Courtly love is very sweet, Folc. Ladies love that.” He whispered to Folc before returning to his conversation. “But with your look, seduction should be a fun game.”

  “I couldn’t care less about such things,” Louis said low, passably irritated. “And please, you’re embarrassing.”

  Lissandro turned to Selen. “How did he seduce you?” he asked, nodding towards Louis.

  “At once, in a tavern.” That sounds terrible. Selen repressed a blush, realizing in which category he was falling. “Life can be short. Why wait?” he said feebly, trying to justify himself. He buried his face in his mug.

  “Unless you’re whoring, picking up in taverns is how you get your throat cut and your pockets empty. Play it on a throw of the dice. I fell into the trap of the pretty face once. Nearly got lynched,” Lissandro said to Folc before picking a chop. “Lucky you rolled a six,” he added towards Selen with a twitch of an eyebrow.

  “In your case, supposing wrong on someone can get you killed,” Kilda said to Lissandro. “As a woman…”

  “Women don’t go into taverns in the first place,” Louis said.

  This is evidence, Selen thought. Everyone but Lissandro nodded in backup to Louis. Kilda’s lips twisted into a frown, and she drew back.

  Selen put down his mug on the board and gazed at the half-dressed whores on the laps of sturdy yokels. “Poor girls,” he sighed.

  “Put that thing away,” Louis said.

  From the table, Askjell withdrew a set of cards he slipped back into his pocket.

  “What is a condom?” Folc asked, looking at Louis.

  Louis stopped picking at his pie and stared at Folc. “Don’t expect me to explain.”

  “Come on, Louis,” Lissandro said. “You can’t deny the boy to long for some good times.”

  “There are bodily needs, and there is love,” Louis objected. “I wished he could learn the difference before.”

  “That’s what courtly love is for,” Lissandro said.

  Louis rolled his eyes. “Weeks of false courtesies and syrupy smiles without the certainty of getting laid. Real love is—” Louis interrupted himself. Selen guessed his friend had said more than he should to his liking. “And that’s why I hate tavern’s chitchat,” he added, as if raising a wall between himself and them.

  “And what should we talk about after a long, wearisome day?” Lissandro asked. “Politics? Literature? I have one for you. By the whole rabble of the horned fiends of hell, the head being cut off, that single person only thereby dieth. But, if the ballocks be marred, the whole race of human kind would forthwith perish, and be lost forever.”

  “And in this world, there are many more ballocks than men. You know I can’t stand to wear my heart upon my sleeve, but if what you want is to titillate the ears of our companions, I can certainly be your match,” Louis responded with sparkling eyes.

  Lissandro leaned back, tilted his head, and lifted his mug. “Against you? I’m already vanquished.”

  No. You just won, Selen thought, observing how Louis’s smirk vanished. Louis straightened, silent again. Selen gave a candid smile to Lissandro to pretend he didn’t get it.

  “It’s impregnated bowels you can put on your…thing for protection,” Kilda whispered to Folc, who was still waiting for his answer.

  Eliot cleared his throat. “These are intolerable words in a woman’s mouth—and sinful thoughts, by the way.”

  Louis leaned towards Eliot and gazed at him with his piercing blue eyes. “Hypocrite.”

  As soon as Louis turned away, the young monk stared daggers at him.

  “What is intolerable is their hygienic condition,” Lissandro said. “These are among the dirtiest harlots I have seen in my existence. Just thinking that half of them may suffer from gonorrhea breaks my heart. Maybe it would help these women if they were a bit more instructed about such matters.”

  “Despicable hygiene is a generality among many women. One needs to have a strong stomach,” Louis said.

  “Where you’re from, despicable hygiene is a generality,” Lissandro said.

  “Am I dirty?” Louis asked, shocked.

  “No. But you conform to his standards,” Lissandro said, cocking his head towards Selen.

  “And in my world, those women would not only be clean but respected, and for some, with a high social status,” Selen said, staring long at his two friends. “This is something we can work on,” he added towards Louis.

  A brunette who was busy teasing one of the yokels stared and winked lewdly at their group. With a nod, she drew her three friends’ attention towards them. The girls didn’t need persuasion and moved closer, loosening their corsages and pouting their lips.

  “You will have the occasion to instruct them, Lilo. They are coming our way,” Selen said.

  Lissandro leaned forward and winked. “Guess on who they will come first?”

  Everyone pointed discreetly at Louis.

  “Oh, come on,” Louis complained under the laughter of his companions. Still, Selen stopped laughing when the four whores halted near his friend.

  “Do you guys need company?” a young blond girl said, bending over and revealing most of her bosom. “You, maybe?” she flirted, moving to sit on Louis’s lap. “Would you buy me a drink?”

  Louis gently blocked her with his hand. “I’m not interested, sorry.”

  A buxom girl with freckles laid an arm around Louis’s shoulder. “Or maybe two of us?” she whispered huskily at his ear.

  In an instant, Selen saw red. He slapped the girl’s arm and felt the heat flash in his hand. He swiveled to the whore. “He told you no,” he hissed.

  The girls stared at him, as frightened as taken aback. The buxom girl held her bruised arm. Selen realized how it looked and felt the awkward silence around him. He tried to smile. “But the cute young monk over there wouldn’t mind a first time with pretty girls like you.”

  The whores jumped on the invitation and trotted towards Eliot to cover him with their affection. His cheeks still warm, Selen looked at his friends around him and bit his lip. Kilda gaped, and Louis repressed an embarrassed smile. Lissandro raised one of his hands and moved it in the air like a cat paw.

  “That was quite mean,” Kilda said. She nodded discreetly towards Eliot. “I hope he has a condom.” Selen and his friends laughed and turned to the poor Eliot, who tried desperately to get rid of the girls.

  A waitress stopped by their table and picked up the empty plates. “What more would please you, my lords?”

  “You can bring us a new jug of ale, thank you,” Lissandro said.

  “Why do they keep calling us lords?” Louis asked once the waitress had left. “It’s not as if it was written on our faces. We all used to be poor once.”

  “Look at the people around you and look at our table,” Lissandro said. “We reek of money. You are dressed in bright royal blue and Selen in burgundy and furs. It’s unaffordable fabric and colors for them. Besides, changing clothes wouldn’t help, as you two,
and probably me as well, look like models with baby skin. These people’s faces bear the marks of their social status. And forgive me, though you have never lived in affluence, you have never been really poor either. This is poverty. Even Kilda, Askjell, and Folc, who are more local color than us, no offense, have way too many manners to mingle here. These are not the slums of Nysa Serin, Louis, these are your people. The ones without whom a country can’t exist.”

  Selen looked at the crowd again. Now he saw them as Lissandro did. He saw the rotten teeth behind the laughs, the misery in their tattered clothes, the beggars and the dogs fighting for the bones on the plates left on the empty tables. By the fire, a woman cradled a crying baby. She dipped a cloth in some kind of liquor and used it on the child as a teat.

  “Oh, I know they are the strength of the earth, but I have to do something for them,” Louis said. “All these laws aren’t enough. There shouldn’t be a single pauper in the kingdom.”

  “Why? It’s in the nature of things. Peasants work the earth. Nobles rule them,” Eliot said. “These people come to the temples when in need of food or shelter, and we provide it. But they are illiterate and filthy. Nothing comes out of them. They are born for this life.”

  “No, they are not,” Louis objected with anger. “No one is born for such misery. They have no choice. They need instruction. Lilo, you seem to come from a land of plenty. How did the people evolve after my…you know, how can I improve their life?”

  Lissandro sighed. “You don’t want to follow that way. It’s a bloody one. You should stick to your projects of the ideal country. It’s a lot more humane. And remember, this is the majority vote.”

  “I don’t want them to vote. I want them to take the power in their hands. But first, they need to be aware of the system, so that they can rise from this dirt.”

  As the majority of customers left, they decided to withdraw to their chamber. They climbed the stairs to the upper floor. Lissandro opened the door, and they entered, their bags in their hands. The room was tiny, especially for eight persons. A crudely constructed bed stood in the middle of the room. The rest of the furniture consisted of a narrow table, a chest, and a chair. It was freezing cold. Selen searched for the origin of the draft and found it.

  “There is not even glass or fur on the window. It’s just a wooden shutter,” he said.

  “We will have to sleep close to each other to keep us warm,” Askjell said. “I suppose everyone agrees that Kilda has to have the bed.”

  “It’s not necessary,” Kilda objected.

  Yet, everyone uttered his approval, and she gave up arguing. Selen saw Lissandro turned towards him with a naughty smile.

  “Would you keep me company, Lilo?” Kilda asked.

  The smile on Lissandro’s face vanished. “Yes, of course,” Lissandro mumbled.

  Askjell, Eliot, and Ahanu unfolded their blankets on the floor on one side of the bed while Selen, Louis, and Folc took the other side. Each of them found a place for his belongings and removed his sword and tunic that he folded as a pillow—except for Eliot, who kept his frock on. For decency in front of a woman, none removed his pants. Selen judged the air a bit too chilly for the nude anyway, but he still removed his shirt. Askjell kept his undertunic. Out of their bags, Folc, Askjell, Kilda, and Eliot took coifs they put over their heads. The linen night coif was an article of clothing from this world that Selen, Louis, and Lissandro had not adopted. Not only was their hair thick and long enough to keep them warm, but Selen judged this society imposed enough clothes already by day to endure more by night. Those people even wore pants under pants. Despite Lissandro’s calling it undergarments, Selen found the process idiotic. Why wear something no one would see and that proved to be so impractical each time the need came to undress?

  Since the room was smaller than the hut they had shared at the Children’s village, they had to tiptoe between the bags and bodies to move from one spot to the other. Incommoded by his sweat, Selen went to pour the pitcher of water in the bowl. With a morsel of salvia soap, he washed his neck and armpits.

  “Seriously?” Folc groused behind his shoulder. “We just left Embermire.”

  “This promiscuity makes me feel uncomfortable,” Kilda said with her nightgown folded in her arms. Their friend had only removed her weapons and her cloak and sat on the bed, watching with uneasiness the half-naked men go around her.

  “With such a company, your honor should be pretty safe,” Folc said. The boy was in a simple shirt and hose and helped Louis adjust their blankets. “Do like Lilo. Enjoy the view.”

  “So now I should be careful where I lay my ass…eyes?” Lissandro puffed, offended.

  “Look at me in mine. It may help,” Selen mumbled.

  “Don’t tease him. He is doing this with his eyes wide open,” Louis said. “I know he didn’t catch yours.” He stepped near and took the soap from his hand. “Thank you.”

  “Are we talking about eyes or…?” Lissandro asked.

  “I fear you will get a black one if you don’t just shut up,” Folc said while cleaning his teeth with a stick.

  “If you all could get off mine,” Lissandro grumbled. He opened the chest in the corner. “Seriously. One pot for eight? Where are the toilets in that pigsty?”

  “Unless you want to do your things crouching behind the tavern or in the street, try to hold yourself until we are back in the forest,” Louis said and took his place next to Folc.

  “Now, I remember another reason why I prefer the comfort of home,” Selen said.

  Lissandro chuckled. “Yeah, as if where you came from, you didn’t wipe off all with your hands.”

  Selen stopped drying himself and stared at him. “By the gods, Lilo. Have you never used the shells and some water?”

  Leaving Lissandro dumbstruck, Selen lay down next to Louis. He grabbed his hair, pulled off the ribbon, and pushed his bundle of hair above his head.

  “You shouldn’t eat that much, Lilo,” Askjell said and laughed. Their companion blew out the lantern.

  Selen heard Askjell take his place under the blankets on the other side. The room turned silent. When he felt the wind from the window caress his bare shoulder, he crept lower under the blankets and against Louis, who wrapped an arm around his chest. His hand on his friend’s, Selen fell asleep.

  A noise woke Selen up. He opened his eyes to the darkness. The room was plunged in silence, but for someone’s snore from the other side of the bed. His body was warm thanks to Louis’s embrace. Selen felt the soft, warm breathing of his love on his neck. He closed his eyes but couldn’t sleep anymore. I need to pee. He remembered what Louis had said and was none too pleased at the idea of walking outside in the dark and freezing in the courtyard. He tried to breathe and calm down. I really need to pee. Carefully, he removed Louis’s hand from his chest and slipped from under the covers. Near the door, he grabbed what he thought to be his cloak. However, in the pitch-black room, he had no idea where his boots were. He would have to do without. As silently as he could, he opened the door and slipped out. Every tiny stone on the floor and rough parts of the wooden stairs scratched his soles. The tavern had closed, and no one was to be found in the murky main room. The dying embers in the hearth were the only source of light. Selen followed a hallway where he had seen people go back and forth during the evening. It led to the inner courtyard.

  Outside, the night was freezing cold. He tightened up the cloak around his bare shoulders, hurried to a corner near the stable, and unlaced his pants. How could Lissandro have thought about them using a pot in the room? Selen was already ashamed to pee against the stable in the middle of the night. Once he was done, he tied up his pants and made it back to the doorway. There, he heard something and stopped. He turned around and scanned the yard. No one was to be seen in the pale light of the lantern on the wall. The sound repeated itself, like a feeble moan. Discreetly, Selen lurked to where the noise came from. There were people hiding on the other side of the stable. He could see them now. The blond
man had his back turned to him. The girl had her long skirts bunched up and her legs clenched around the man’s hips. One of his hands held her bottom firmly. Selen recognized the gypsy girl. The man grabbed one of her tits with his mouth while he kept pumping inside her, groaning with pleasure. Before he tiptoed away from the disgusting scene, Selen noticed that he had seen the man’s clothes before. Askjell. The girl opened her eyes and looked directly at him. Her smile was nasty. She was nasty. With her hand, she invited him to join them. Frightened that she revealed his presence to his companion, Selen hastened back inside the tavern. He didn’t want to see more either. Trying not to wake up anyone, Selen returned to their room. He tossed his coat to the side and brushed his feet against his ankles. As he drew near his side of the bed, he assumed that his companions were too deeply asleep to have noticed his absence. He crept back under the blankets and under Louis’s warm arm. His friend hugged him closer in his sleep. Selen had thoughts about talking to Lissandro about what he had seen but brushed them away. It wasn’t his business, after all. It was Askjell’s money and his diseases. Selen closed his eyes. This time, he fell asleep.

  “Wake up.”

  Fingers caressed the side of his face. Selen fluttered his eyes open. Louis stood over him, smiling and dressed.

  “Come on, get up,” Lissandro said, kicking his leg as he passed along. “I want to get out of here. It reeks like a fennec’s lair.”

  Selen remembered where he was and watched his companions pack and get dressed. His flank burned. He scratched himself and had a look at it. A trail of bedbug bites covered his skin.

  “That’s disgusting,” Selen groused and stood up. Those people and their pathetic hygiene. Have they never heard of bog myrtle?

  He slipped his shirt and tunic on, brushed his hair, and helped Folc fold the blankets. The room was crowded, stifling, and smelled as mephitic as Lissandro had implied. He couldn’t take a step without bumping into someone and looked forward to getting out of here. Kilda filled the shallow basin with water and washed her face.