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Authors: Nathan Long

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BOOK: Jane Carver of Waar
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We breezed through one of the archways and then down a twisting spiral staircase. The lower we went, the warmer and damper it got, until we stepped out into an echoey hallway with tiled walls that dripped with sweat. Servants appeared out of clouds of mist. Lhan-Lar turned to me.

“Mistress Jae-En, if you will follow Li-Tin, she will lead you to the ladies’ baths.”

Li-Tin, a mousy little serving girl, looked like she was afraid I was going to eat her whole as soon as we were alone, but after a glare from Lhan she meekly led me left down the hall into the mist as Sai and Lhan went right.

The ladies’ baths were a low, hexagonal room, half natural rock, half beautiful blue and orange tiles. This was where all the steam was coming from. It rose off the water in a round stone tub as big as a backyard pool but not so deep. The tub had been carved into the floor and polished smooth. It was fed by hot water that seeped out of the bare rock on the far wall.

Li-Tin help me out of my dirty muumuu and armor with reluctant fingers and stole peeks at my naked, alien hugeness with horrified eyes. I was looking around for the soap, and realizing that the new language in my head didn’t seem to have a word for it, when she handed me a flat oval of flexible material like a spatula head. “What’s this?”

She looked revolted. “You don’t clean yourself?” She mimed scraping the little oval across her arms and stomach.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” It wasn’t exactly Oil of Olay with eight essential moisturizers, but I guessed it would work.

As Li-Tin staggered off under the weight of my clothes, armor and sword, I stuck a toe in the pool. I nearly hit the roof. You could have boiled a lobster in that gumbo pot. After about ten minutes of eeking and ouching, I was in up to my neck and practically crying like a baby it felt so good. I’d splashed in a couple of streams since I’d come to Waar, but this was luxury. This was the damn Ritz. I let myself drift for a few minutes, brain locked firmly in the off position, until I started to get dizzy from the heat. Then I scraped myself with the little scraper. I was afraid my skin was going to come off in strips, like when you boil a fish too long, but it worked just fine. Of course water that hot would have steamed an oilfield roughneck clean without any help. I undid my hair and rinsed it as best I could. It turned two shades brighter. I felt really clean for the first time since I stepped out of my shower back in my one-bedroom in Reseda.

When I couldn’t stand it anymore I heaved myself out and slapped around on the tiles looking for a towel. I was red as a cartoon devil. No towels. There was a door in the right wall. I opened it, thinking it might be a linen closet. It was a little room which was as dry as the rest of the basement was steamy. Warm dry air blew up through vents in the floor. I was dry in less than a minute.

As I was braiding my hair, Li-Tin came back, looking scared and embarrassed. She had a pudgy grandmother with her who cackled at me. Li-Tin shushed her. “Your clothes were... uncleanable. The Dhan has ordered clothes made for you. If you will allow...”

She motioned the old woman forward. Granny had a piece of string with lines marked on it. She used it to take my measurements, giggling at each ridiculous number. When she was done Li-Tin held out a big, thick, embroidered robe. “This is all we could find that...” She seemed really embarrassed to mention my size. I took the robe and gave her a friendly grin. She flinched anyway. It was like trying to make friends with a deer. “Don’t worry about it. This’ll do.”

It did. Barely. The robe was roomy, but like the muumuu, a little short. It was obviously supposed to sweep the floor like a judge’s robe, but on me it didn’t quite come to my knees. Barefoot, I followed Li-Tin and granny out and up the stairs.

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

QUEST!

S
ai and Lhan were waiting for me on the second floor in Lhan’s apartments, which were downright swanky—rich draperies, embroidered chaise lounges in deep maroons and blues, little dark wood tables with marble tops, vases, sculptures of naked people looking snooty, metal lamps with holes punched in them in complicated patterns, swords crossed on the wall. Tall windows looked out onto a tiny garden surrounded by the castle walls. There was a big, tasty-looking spread laid out on a circular table in the middle of three chaises. Lhan and Sai were digging in with their fingers when I came in.

Sai was talking. “But I
must
go. Though I die I must face him. Love and honor compel me.”

I didn’t really hear him. I was too busy staring. Sai and Lhan were totally transformed. Other than when I first met Sai, I hadn’t seen him in anything but grubby cast-offs, with make-up smeared on his face and dirt and dried blood dreading up his hair. He was heartstopping now; black hair glossy and thick, his body lean and relaxed, and almost totally nude.

The fashion with the in crowd on Waar this year was apparently bare-ass naked. I’ve seen male strippers who ended their act wearing more. Sai wore a royal blue silk g-string straight out of International Male which barely covered his equipment, a couple of belts and straps, and a matching silk sleeve and half-chest piece that seemed to be modeled on the armor men wore in battle. This version wouldn’t have stopped a butter knife, but it looked just fine. Lhan was decked out the same way in maroon. He didn’t look bad either. A devil to Sai’s angel. I wondered what they wore when it snowed. Maybe it didn’t.

Lhan saw me hesitating and waved me in. “Ah, mistress Jae-En. You do my father’s robe more justice than ever he has, the fat ruktug. Come. Sit. Eat. We will be but a moment.”

I sat. I ate, more than happy to be left out of the conversation as I stuffed my face. This was the first civilized meal I’d had here on Waar and it was delicious. Chunks of red meat in a peppery sauce that you grabbed with little folds of bread, fruits that looked like sea anemones and tasted like sugary string beans, some kind of bitter wine that I got used to after four or five cups, little pastries, some with meat, some with spicy jam.

Lhan turned back to Sai. “If you are determined to go, then we must make haste. Kedac-Zir and Wen-Jhai travel for the wedding in Ormolu in three days at most. We must depart at dawn to reach them before they leave.”

Sai looked up. “We? You join me in my folly?”

Lhan smirked. “Better folly than boredom. Father sent me here to supervise the spring planting, as if Dir-Var needs my help. I don’t know one end of a plow from the other and do not intend to learn. ’Tis plain banishment. He approves not of the reputation I gain at court, or my appetites.”

I saw the look in his eye when he said appetites and wondered what he was hungry for. He continued. “Your adventures sound much more entertaining. I’ll not allow my youth to be squandered on lasi shoots and rodoc bulbs.”

Sai looked relieved, and at the same time guilty to be relieved. “The Seven bless you, Lhan. You boost my flagging courage.”

Lhan waved this away, embarrassed, and turned to me. “And what of you, Mistress Jae-En? Where go you?”

The question took me by surprise. From the minute I’d got here I’d spent all my time either hiding, fighting, or running away. Suddenly I had the luxury of making a decision about what I wanted to do next, and I was stumped.

Sai and Lhan waited politely while I let it all percolate. Did I go with them? Did I go exploring? Did I get married and settle down? Did I try to figure a way to get... “Home. I want to go home.”

I didn’t think about it realistically. I didn’t think about what was waiting for me when I got back. There was just a sudden lump in my throat, and a squeezing in my chest. For all the amazing things I’d seen—four armed tiger-men, giant birds, castles, beautiful boys in porn star undies—what I really wanted more than anything was a beer and a Marlboro, and a wet November blowing around me to make me appreciate my leather jacket. Asphalt, car horns, FM radio, chop suey out of a Styrofoam box, the smell of paint, big hairy guys who knew the words to the songs in my head. I tried to shake the image of Big Don out my head. He wasn’t back home waiting for me anymore.

Sai and Lhan were looking at me.

“I think I got here on some sort of...” No word for teleporter came to my head. “Transport device. A stone disk with a gem in it. But it was burnt out. If I could find a live one—”

Lhan interrupted me. “Sai has told me about your... curious history. He made much of your daring and your extraordinary prowess. You seem to have been his constant savior.” Both Sai and I blushed at this. “And slaying an Aarurrh in single combat. Few men can claim to have done that. Not since the days of the War God have there been such stories.”

“Lhan!” Sai snapped at him.

Lhan grinned. “Dear me, do I blaspheme?”

What was Sai upset about now? I turned to Lhan. “Who’s the War God?”

Sai and Lhan exchanged a glance. Lhan raised an eyebrow at me. “That is a good question. Over a hundred years ago, a man appeared on Waar—tall, like you, and with impossible strength, like yours, but with tan skin and brown hair rather than your demonic hues. He claimed to be a warrior god, come from the heavens, but there have been a few who have said that it was some gift of the Seven that brought him here.”

“You mean like my gem thing?”

Lhan shrugged like he didn’t want to commit himself. “Perhaps. There are rumors of such things. The War God was a great leader. He swiftly became the ruler of Ora, then most of the known world. But as the years passed, his rule became despotic. He made himself High Priest of the Church of the Seven, and using the Church, he hoarded the holy weapons, and destroyed many holy sites as false icons, claiming they belonged to The One. All this under the guise of protecting us.”

“Sounds like he just wanted to keep it all for himself.”

“So his client kings thought. They believed he was attempting to consolidate his power and take from us the weapons that might overthrow him. They began to foment war, but just as the armies were on the march, the War God disappeared. The church says that we disappointed him and he abandoned us like The Seven before him. They daily pray for his return. Others say he died, or that he returned to where he came from. The peasants think he still watches over us like some benevolent guardian from some hidden retreat.” Lhan laughed at this.

My heart was pounding. This War God guy sounded like another Earthman! Maybe he knew how to get me back home, but... “A hundred thirty years ago? And people think he’s still alive?”

Lhan shrugged. “No one knows, but he didn’t age as other men. Only in the last years of his fifty-year reign did he seem to approach middle age.”

That weirdness was only a sidebar to me. “So, you think the same thing happened to me as happened to him...”

Lhan and Sai exchanged another look. Lhan coughed. “The Church of The Seven would have something to say about that, and we dare not suggest any such thing. The War God is an official Demi-God, but... a rational woman can certainly make up her own mind, can she not?”

I didn’t like the sound of what he wasn’t saying. “These church guys aren’t going to come gunning for me for impersonating a god, are they?”

Sai started. “By the Seven! Do you think...?”

Lhan shook his head. “With your hair and coloring you are more likely to be mistaken for a demon than a god, but even were you His twin, to pay notice to you would mean acknowledging a comparison between you and He, and thus throw into question His divinity. They wouldn’t dare.”

I wasn’t entirely easy in my mind about the whole thing. Maybe it’s just that I’ve never really got on with organized religion, not since Father Flanagan tried to infuse me with the holy spirit in the confessional and I kicked him right in the chasuble.

“So does
anybody
know how to get me home?”

They hemmed and hawed, then Sai spoke. “The knowledge of holy relics is jealously guarded by the church. But I may be able to help. In the future. Wen-Jhai, my bride, is the daughter of the Aldhanan, our king. As the Seven’s emissary on Waar, the Aldhanan could tell you what you need to know, and once I am tied to him by blood I might intercede with him on your behalf, if it were done discretely, of course.”

My head was spinning. The way he said things! Sheesh! “Did you just say your father-in-law might know and you could ask him once you got married?”

Lhan laughed. “Brevity, Sai. An admirable trait. We must learn it.”

Sai ignored him. “I’m afraid this provides no immediate solution to your problem, but if you could bear to wait here while I attempt to win back my bride, I’m sure Lhan would extend his hospitality indefinitely.”

Wait here while frail little Sai got himself killed and I lost my chance to get home? Wait here while Mr. Body Beautiful Lhan took his extendable hospitality with him? “Sorry, Charlie, I got too much at stake in getting you married. Let’s hit the trail.”

I was all for leaving right that minute, but as Sai and Lhan tried to convince me that we needed a night to prepare, that fifth glass of sour wine hit me. That, on top of a whole day on foot under the big orange sun, and getting boiled in that stew pot they called a bath. Suddenly I could barely keep my head up. I think I remember Li-Tin guiding me through some dark passageways, but I’m not sure.

 

***

 

I woke up feeling better than I had in... I didn’t know how long. The room I was in beat any place I’d slept so far on Waar. Hell, it topped the nine-hundred-dollar-a-month shit-box I’d been calling home since I’d moved to California.

I was on some kind of futon: a soft, firm pad that rustled a little when I moved, and a thick blanket made out of some woven material that kept me just the right temperature. The room was cool and dim, with a knife-edge of pink light cutting through a gap in the heavy curtains. I could make out the shapes of bulky furniture against the plaster walls. Everything was cozy and rounded, like the stuff in Snow White’s room when she was shacking up with the seven dwarves.

I was practically purring. Even the pressure in my head from the wine felt right. A little pain to let me know how nice the pleasure was. I lay there awhile. Maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad after all; hot baths, comfy beds, good food. Who could hate that?

BOOK: Jane Carver of Waar
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