Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

5.2.

Shirvan the One-Eyed, the innkeeper of "Akhmani al-Riyadh" ("Blessed Garden" in Faris), was busy pouring wine when a huge barbarian came to loom by the bar.

"Yo, keeper, you speak normal speak?" barked the barbarian in the badly-accented Common Tongue.

Shirvan was very nearly insulted. This was the border Isfahan, teeming with merchants from all over the world. Every self-respecting innkeeper here spoke the Common Tongue. To lose a customer through ignorance, ridiculous! And if the slant-eyed barbarian thought he was such a novelty item, he had another thing coming. Isfahan merchants often hired the steppe-dwellers to guard their caravans, and some foreigners even had barbarian bodyguards. Ugh, the perverts! Bet this one's master was one of those effete bum-wiggling Marrangha traders.

These thoughts fleeted through Shirvan's head but were not reflected in his countenance. He smiled broadly and said, in the perfect Common Tongue, "Welcome to the trading town of Isfahan, my lord! What will your pleasure be?"

Now these barbarians were absolutely beside themselves with joy if you addressed them as "lord." Bet nobody called him that when he was horsing around in his steppes.

The barbarian preened and said, "Me guards two Northern ladies. Noble. Dem wants de bestest room, de bestest mirror, de bestest wash-bucket, and de hottest water! And you go make sure, is a back-door there for dem to come in. 'Cause ..." here the barbarian dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "dem stupid girls got dirt all over them on de way, and start to bleat, waah-waah can't come out and look like dat. No-no-no!"

The words "Northern" and "noble" worked their magic on the innkeeper. He dashed from behind the bar and, bowing non-stop, took the barbarian to the second floor that held the "bestest" rooms.

"Not bad," nodded the barbarian carelessly and dropped a few Creedan silver coins into the innkeeper's hand. "You says dem bring de wash-bucket. Send dem merchants with girly stuff and things. And roast us de fattest lamb and give us de fire-water!"

Both floors of the Blessed Garden now buzzed with activity, never mind the afternoon heat and the absence of customers. Servants, kitchen boys and errand-runners flitted hither and wither. The serving wenches brought pails of hot water to the rooms; the kitchen help worried over the saffron lamb; merchants unpacked their wares of choice fabrics and jewelry cases.

Shirvan, his one eye half-closed in rapture, relished the bustle. Not only did these Northern women take up the best room and pay for it generously, they also planned to stay for a few days and take in the sights. Who but Shirvan would point them in the direction of the best tea-rooms and shops! For a small fee from the owners, of course. Without a doubt, the news of the traveling foreign ladies would soon spread, and the locals would be all over themselves hoping to catch a glimpse of their shoulders, brazenly bared in the northern way, and maybe something even more interesting, if luck would have it ...

In the midst of it all, two figures wrapped in cloaks head to toe, slipped into the inn through the back. The women were tall, like all Northern ladies, only a head or so shorter than their bodyguard. Shirvan did not think their travel clothes especially dirty, but then who could guess with these women. His own wives constantly carried on about having nothing to wear, even though they had trunks bursting with robes, shalwars and veils!

Ear to the door, Shirwan heard squeals, screams, laughter, and sounds of water splashing – so typical in the women's quarters. "Ohh, adorable, real lapis lazuli!" he heard. Women are the same everywhere, he reflected wisely, and turned to more pressing tasks.

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Martin Sensmeier, a Native American actor and model, as Kintaro