Chương 27: Vol 1. Scrubba Dub Dub Time: Part 2

Above the entrance to the men's bathing chamber hung a crimson banner with two crossed spears stitched atop it. The bathing chamber itself was much more spacious than they had anticipated. Great stone pools, built around an intricate heating, ventilation, and drainage system and lined with bluish clay that allowed the clean water to appear more vibrant, occupied a good portion of the room. Thick layers of steam swam lazily in the air above the swishing pool water. The walls were made of pale limestone bricks.

Various mosaics decorated them. Some were religious in nature, such as one in which an abstractionist depiction of the Great Mother stood at the centre, her paws flowing outwards with brilliantly blue-hued water cascading in twirls down into a majestic forest with pittering little animals.

Some were less church-friendly, such as one that had a woman with a labourer's stature sitting relaxed against a log next to a winding river, nude, her vulva covered by the thigh of a nude man pressed against her, his round, bare bottom on central display. Tahir looked at that painting for a moment longer than he would ever admit, then looked back at the pools. He felt his heart skip. Hot water. Beautiful, hot water. He tore off his dress with enough haste to break numerous rules of etiquette.

He stepped into the nearest pool. Instantly, his troubles melted away as the warmth swallowed him. He let out a long, purring groan. Grabbing his brush and his soap, he quickly began lathering himself with the awful-smelling stuff and brushing the knots from his fur. He allowed the clumps of dirt and mud to fall into the water, clouding the pristine blue oasis with brown sludge. As Tahir's mind was melting, his ears suddenly perked.

His jaw hung open, and every time he tried to fix it back into place, it would fall down again. Morton was heading towards the bath, nude. It was not as if he had not seen Morton nude previously, but now it felt… different. He felt his little heart speeding, leaping this way and that, forcing his ribcage up and down in rapid breaths as though his heart were a hammer. He looked at Morton's chest, then down towards his stomach, then… Tahir broke his gaze. Bad, Tahir, bad!

Morton lowered himself into the water with a pained grunt.

"Good Lord," he muttered.

"I don't think even with this bath, my bones are ever gonna forgive me." Tahir's eyes drifted towards Morton's thigh—only because he wanted to check on his wound! The wound had closed, but a dark, uneven scar remained. Morton's face was faring much better too.

"Does it still hurt?" Tahir asked. Morton shrugged.

"Only when I walk, I reckon." Tahir chuckled.

"Sir Christian, that is all we do."

"Well, hopefully we can get ourselves a horse after this," he replied. Morton began cleaning himself when a high-pitched masculine voice called out:"Well, I don't think I have ever seen you two here before." Tahir looked in the direction of the voice. A man waded through the water towards them. He appeared to be around Tahir's age, with youthful vim and vigour evident in his seemingly stress-free visage.

He had neatly groomed russet fur and several silver and gold earrings that were spaced out evenly along the edges of his ears. He was narrow-waisted, the white fur of his stomach trimmed back so that the outline of his well-defined abdominal muscles could be seen, yet the rest of his upper body was still as slender as could be, save for his decently sized pecs. Wow, Tahir thought. He's really pretty. Tahir had to admit, he was slightly jealous of the man's bosom.

"Is this your first time here?" the man said, smiling.

"We… um… we are travellers," Tahir said.

"Oh, fun!" he replied. He looked Tahir up and down, then got uncomfortably close. Tahir could feel the heat radiating off his body. The man pulled both paws from beneath the water, pressed them against Tahir's cheeks, and turned Tahir's head from side to side.

"Oh, by Seroth, aren't you just so lovely! I just adore your fur pattern."

"Th-thanks," Tahir said with his ears quivering.

"You are just the cutest thing I have ever seen, and I mean that. You can call me Rutka!"

"Tahir." Morton tipped an imaginary hat.

"Name's Morton." Rutka looked up at Morton and cocked his head.

"Oh, are you an elf by chance?"

"Human," Tahir added. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Rutka nodded, as if that explained everything. Letting go of Tahir, he sat back and stretched his arms across the edge of the pool.

"So, what brings you two through Kareth?" he asked brightly.

"We are headin' over towards the capital."

"Oh, really?" the man said.

"How exciting! I've always wanted to go, but I have never been able to afford it."

"Are you peasantry?" Tahir asked. Rutka laughed.

"Aren't we all? Yeah, unfortunately, I didn't luck out much with my marriage. Don't get me wrong, I love my wife; she's an absolute blessing, a sweetheart who treats me so well. We've got a kid on the way soon, and she's still working behind the scenes at the shop… but you don't make much running a bookstore in a place like this." Tahir's ears perked.

"Your wife runs the bookshop in town?"

"Sure does!" Rutka said.

"She is really proud of it too."

"Do you reckon you could get us a family discount?" Morton said. Rutka's expression went flat for a moment, then he flicked his ears and said, "Ah, why not! I'm sure with a pretty thing like Tahir over here, she would practically give up the shop if he asked!" Tahir looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed for some reason. Rutka let out a long breath.

"But the capital right now… that seems a little dangerous, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?" Tahir asked.

"Well, the Coniton is happening."

"The hell is this Coniton?" Morton asked. Rutka stared at Morton for a moment, then said, "Ah, I forgot you were a foreigner for a moment; you just speak such good Kharan! How should I describe the Coniton…?" Rutka licked his teeth in thought.

"Well," Rutka said, tapping one claw against his chin, "I am not too familiar with history outside of what you learn in your basic education, but I believe that it started maybe five hundred years ago after the last great Kharani war. Back then, our race was made up of many smaller tribal factions who were constantly at war with one another. Over time, as the Dual-Gods' faith spread and took over local tradition, there was a greater emphasis on fully unifying rather than bickering.

"Originally, it was, um… oh, yeah, the Church of Veyrath that had centralized both spiritual and political authority, but, you know, women are how women are, and they began to bicker about power and what have you. And so, eventually, the High Priestess of Veyrath at the time relinquished her authority to a couple of particular families she found to be the most moral, and over time, power stabilized.

The four royal households got control over differing regions, with minor nobility being eligible to be selected for, uh, you know, courtly positions. The region we are in now belongs to House Seran and is ruled by Lady Korra. Actual power over the day-to-day goings-on tends to be left up to the locals, in my experience, anyway.

"And so, the solution they came up with to prevent more war was that they would each gather upon the death of a queen, and they would choose one person from each family to compete in a variety of contests. You know, stuff like strength, endurance, strategy—all exciting stuff. Whoever wins grants the head of their household authority over the entire Kharani realm. That is the gist of it, I think." Morton blinked.

"So, it's an election where everyone beats the shit outta each other?" Rutka thought for a moment.

"That is an incredibly vulgar description."

"But accurate?"

"More or less?" Morton chuckled.

"Hell, that is more history than even I know about my own country." Rutka smiled.

"Well, perhaps you can tell me a story from your own people's history… eh, where are you from, anyway?"

"Texas," Morton said with a hint of sadness echoing in his cadence. Rutka sounded out the syllables.

"Never heard of it. Is it really far?"

"Very," Morton said.

"But I can tell you one story... You see, we had this one leader of ours durin' our first war, Benjamin Franklin. Now, Franklin was a right smart man, real smart, one of the smartest, but he was also a real man of the ladies, if you get what I mean.

Now, I don't really know whether this is true or not, but I heard when I was younger that when he went over to our ally, a nice little place called France, he was real good at licking spilled water off of ladies, if you catch my drift, and eventually, you had all the noble ladies linin' up to get a turn with his tongue." Rutka scrunched his muzzle.

"Oh, ew… ugh, women." His ears twitched in realization.

"Wait, did you say that one of your leaders was a man?"

"Yeah," Morton said matter-of-factly.

"Why?"

"Well, just, if he was a man, how could he be a leader?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it's just… that isn't how it works, you know? I mean, how could a man have the fortitude to be a ruler?"

"Well," Morton started, "not all women have the fortitude to be leaders, so why couldn't some men have it?" Rutka tried to find an answer, but couldn't.

"Guess it's just different cultures," he said. As Morton and Rutka continued to chat, Tahir was lost in thought. Lady Korra. Lady Korra of… Lady Korra of House Seran… Of course! They had stumbled into the administrative centre of House Seran's territory. They were also heading to the Coniton. It might have been risky, but they could ask—and there would be no more sleeping and walking. Tahir went up and pulled on Morton's arm.

"Sir Morton," he said, "let us go to the bookstore now."

"Ah, sure thing, kid. You wanna walk with us, Rutka?" Rutka shrugged.

"Might as well." As they got out of the pool, Tahir whispered in Morton's ear,"Also, there is something we must discuss after."