Chapter 9

The shift from salt flat to grassland was stark. Over fifty paces one went from barren desert to healthy steppe. They walked for one more march, and arrived at Nambe.

Nambe was far smaller than Abo. Most of the dwellings were outside the city. Huge fields of wheat and other grains grew around it. Mato tried to watch everything, in every direction, as they approached. These people didn’t have rooms of flax, they had fields of it.

Grains like corn grew row after row, almost as far as the eye could see. Compared to Abo, this was a treasure of agriculture. He’d thought Abo was rich, but Nambe had food to feed ten Abos. Maybe twenty.

“As always, be very careful of what you say, and to whom,” Ezhno said.

Mato nodded and continued scanning the area.

Nambe was an oblong city, with one rounded end to the west and one squared end to the east. It was made of gray stone, much different than the reddish hues of hardpan.

People seemed to be mostly farmers, wearing simple clothing and eating simple foods. The market they passed through had many kinds of bread, but few vegetables, and no meat.

The city smelled bad, like rot, piss, and shit.

“Ezhno, am I seeing what I think I am seeing? The people here seem to have very bad teeth.”

Ezhno nodded and spoke softly, “Yes. They do not have access to Abo’s well. This is just the first sign of ill health you will see in the outside lands.”

One of the priests joined them. And they walked in silence for a bit. Then Mato saw a wagon with a body on it. Then a wagon with two bodies.

“Why are there so many dead on the same day?”

“They do not have Sotsona’s blessing,” the priest said.

“Nor do they have Sotsona’s wisdom,” Ezhno said. “You never see waste in Abo, but here it is piled in the streets.”

The priest kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his forehead.

That caught Mato’s attention. It was the first time he had heard Ezhno say something definitely good about Sotsona. Usually his comments were neutral, and occasionally negative. It made sense that he would say something positive in front of the priest, but it was also a good observation.

They crossed most of the city before they arrived at a boarding house. The place was three storeys, and very long. The priests haggled with the owner for a bit, then handed over some gold.

The boarding house had four rows of rooms on each floor. The two outside rows had windows. The two inside rows had no access to outside light or air.

The air inside was stifling, and it grew worse when they climbed to the third floor. Mato got a glimpse inside a few of the inside rooms, and breathed a little thank you to the Great Spirit when Ezhno led him into an outside room.

Even with some airflow, it was hot and stagnant. Flies flew in and out through the windows, and the air smelled just as bad here as it did everywhere else. Ezhno got out a small jar of paste, put a bit on his forehead and wrists, then passed it to Mato.

The paste smelled of… coconut… and perhaps saffron. He followed his teacher’s motions, then asked what it was supposed to do.

“It keeps the flies away,” Ezhno said. “Without this, they land on you. At best, they are irritating. At worst, they bite.”

They napped for a few hours, then Ezhno took Mato to his first bathhouse.

“This is when you learn that different cultures have different ideas. In Nambe, men, women, and children all bathe together.”

That caught Mato’s attention. He entered the building with trepidation. Ezhno led him to a changing room, where a naked woman surrounded by three children smiled at them, then continued drying herself.

Ezhno picked a bench for them, then stripped. While he was doing that, a group of five men entered. They greeted the woman as if everything was normal, said hello to the kids, then found a spot and proceeded to undress.

“Um…” Mato said.

“Strip,” Ezhno said.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Mato undressed, praying to the Great Spirit that his little spirit would sleep through this experience.

The next bit shocked Mato more than anything else. When they entered the bathing area, water poured from several holes high in the wall. People would stand under the stream of water, wash themselves, then find a spot to soak in a tub. How many people did it take carrying buckets of water to the uphill holding tank for this to work?

Ezhno rinsed himself thoroughly, then went to an empty tub and settled onto a seat. Mato followed him, worrying at every step about his posture. Should he try to walk naturally? Should he put his hands in front of his manhood? Where should he look? There were naked people everywhere.

“Do you remember my story?” Ezhno asked when he was seated.

“Of course,” Mato said.

“If I can get used to this, anyone can get used to this.”

“You could have warned me.”

Ezhno chuckled softly. “If I had, you would have refused to come.”

“Of course I would,” Mato said.

“Then you would stink. Why should I have to smell your stench?”

Mato glanced around the room. A man rubbed himself dry with a cloth of some sort. A woman finished drying herself, then applied oil to her skin. Mato had to look away.

“How am I supposed to leave here without humiliating myself?”

Ezhno passed him a very small package wrapped in waxed leather. “Eat this.”

Mato chewed the bitter contents, then breathed a sigh of relief as his little spirit subsided.

Overall Mato felt he could enjoy the baths immensely if he could just find a time when there were no women in attendance.

“This is a secret, Mato.”

He looked at Ezhno and gave one sharp nod.

“I wish I could marry some day. To have a wife at my side, perhaps children… I thought that training you would be unpleasant, but a good investment. Instead I have found it rewarding, and I wonder what it would be like to guide a child from cradle to adulthood.”

“Why give up?”

“I am not giving up. I am thinking about the consequences. What if I had a child, and they were like me? I am a monster, Mato. Allo spent ten years teaching me to play at civilization, but underneath?”

Mato studied his face, and found something like despair lurking under the grim expression. “Allo already taught you how to work with a difficult child. You are better prepared than most.”

“I am not as strong as Allo.”

Mato laughed softly. “Perhaps not right now, but if you have taught me anything, it is that strength of any kind can be developed.”

“You are a good friend, Mato. And a good student. Come, we have work to do.” He pushed himself up, grabbed his drying cloth, and set to with it.

Mato followed, and then they made their way back to the dressing room.

They passed a very attractive woman about Mato’s age as they approached the door, and he had his head turned back in her direction just long enough to collide with two more young women as they exited the changing room.

“I’m so sorry,” Mato said.

His head whipped around, and he looked into a pair of milk-white breasts with perfect, pink nipples. His little spirit threw off the bonds of Ezhno’s medicine, and he whipped his drying cloth in front of himself, only to drop it.

Mato bent, grabbed the cloth, and straightened, only to bump her soft parts with the back of his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said. Her hair was brilliant red, and her face was covered with freckles. Her eyes were brilliant green.

A second female voice burst into laughter, and he realized the exotic woman had a friend. A friend with piercing blue eyes, pale skin, and hair so light it was almost white. Her breasts were, if anything, larger than her friend’s.

“Excuse us, ladies,” Ezhno said. He grabbed Mato by the arm and pulled him to the side so they could pass.

“Thank you good sir,” said the redhead.

The whitehead put a finger under Mato’s chin and raised his eyes to hers. “What is your name?”

“M… M…”

“His name is Mato Stone Foot, and I am his teacher, Ezhno. He’s very bright, and hard working. It’s just his first trip to a bathhouse.”

“I see,” she said. “Well, you seem very honest, Mato Stone Foot. Never lose that quality.”

Then the two beauties walked away, hips swaying. Their giggles sounded like songbirds, and Mato felt like he might faint.

The dressing room was blessedly empty when Ezhno dragged him in. They sat, pulled their clothes on, and then walked outside.

“What are they?” Mato asked in a whisper.

“Women, Mato.”

He shot Ezhno a hard look. “I know what women are, Ezhno. I have a mother, sisters, and friends. But I have never seen women that color. Blue eyes. Green eyes. Red hair. White hair, but not like an old person.”

“That light color is called blonde, Mato.”

“They are beautiful.”

Ezhno laughed and patted his shoulder. “I noticed.”

“Where are they from?”

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about people with their coloration before, but I have never seen them. Which brings me to my next point. When you meet anyone who surprises you, you should fall back on your manners. Greet them politely, try not to stare, and get out of their way.”

Mato put his hands over his face. “They think I am an idiot.”

“They were flattered that you found them entrancing, Mato.”

“Do you think so?”

“It was obvious.”