Orin The Great Ch. 07

"I don't know that." Orin said. "All I know is that they eat fish and small animals, and that they are being hunted down because the Church wants them gone from the lake."

Summoning up his courage, Orin walked into the grass toward the nearest form. This was a woman with short and unkempt black hair. Her face was strange, in that it was long and with a square jaw, the same as the dead men he'd seen. The woman was a true giantess, as even sitting and hiding in the grass, the top of her head reached up almost as high as his chest. She shied away from him, as if she feared him as much as he feared her.

"Hello?" Orin nervously asked.

Of course, the tall woman would not understand his words, as she most likely spoke some different language. She only looked back at him with her narrow slits of eyes. She had manly shoulders and arms, along with long and sagging breasts that hung down over her belly. The woman had a rough look to her, and also a dirty look to her body, as she wore nothing at all on her.

"You cannot stay here." Orin warned her. "You have to leave right away and go to live somewhere else. If the men of Grauxall come and find you, they will kill you."

He tried to pull the woman up by the arm, but she was far too heavy and leaned away from him.

"You must believe me!" Orin pleaded. "You have to leave this place or you will die!"

When he released the woman's arm, she simply sat there in the grass, watching him with her scared eyes.

Orin saw another form hiding in the high grass. This was an old man, also very tall but not frail at all, with white hair, and a broad shoulders and chest. From his weathered countenance, it was clear that he was very old.

"Can you understand me?" Orin asked. "Can you understand that you must leave this place at once?"

The old man said nothing. He only stared back anxiously.

"You can't stay!" Orin shouted. "The men I came here with, they've already killed the others! They will kill you just the same!"

He walked away, spotting more people in hiding. This time, it was another woman with short, untidy hair. She held two children in her arms. Both children looked much younger than Orin, but they were as tall as he was.

In frustration, the young man left that tribe of hiding people. He made his way back to the lake, but he didn't stop there. After asking for directions from a local man, he went out to find the road.

For the next day and a half, he kept hidden to the side of the road, avoiding even the carriage with Sundri and Lady Oryala. When the wagons from Castra Devana were seen, he boarded the one with Bartram and Miriam, and covered his head with a cloak so his face would not be seen by anyone.

"Ask me nothing." Orin told his friends. "I won't speak to any of you until we are very far from this abhorrent place.

Castra Devana was a small kingdom, but it was splendid and beautiful. The first they saw of it were vast fields of barley and wheat, followed by more of onions and tomatoes. To a lesser extent, cotton was grown, and the closer they approached the town proper, a great many vineyards were seen.

While the farmers lived on their wide fields, with some having become wealthy and building up extravagant houses on their lands, most of the nobles lived on a large hill, or conversely, a small mountain. The houses of the noble families were two and three levels high, built of stone blocks and displaying many large arches. Several defensive measures had been taken to ensure the safety of the rich, including three layers of walls starting with the first one at the base of the hill, the second two-thirds of the way up, and the last and thickest at the top. The streets were not that wide, and the alleyways between the houses were so narrow only two people could stand abreast. Also, the streets wound their way up the hill in a circular manner, done deliberately so that any invaders would have trouble sacking the fortified hill on their way to the peak.

At the top was Castle Overdon. The castle was of recent design, with a narrow front gate leading to a stalwart portcullis, and crenellations set against the highest edges of the walls and buildings. Instead of having a single banner, four separate banners adorned the castle tower and the gate. These represented the four wealthy families who had built the castle and the fort around the hill at great expense. The four banners helped explain why Lady Oryala and her husband could not easily claim their selves as monarchs of the kingdom, as three other families would certainly dispute that.

The Lady's carriage and wagons, and also her knights, were greeted warmly upon their arrival into the walled community. Pedestrians called out to Oryala, who responded by waving her hand out of a carriage window and smiling. The short caravan made its way around the winding streets, heading for the castle set on the uppermost heights.

Understanding that this would take a while, an impatient Orin decided to jump from the wagon he rode on. His intention was to stretch his legs, as he'd grown tired of the long road to get there, and all the bumps and holes that had caused his entire backside to become sore. No sooner had he left the wagon, than Bartram called for the driver to halt. This allowed the archer and the girl Miriam to climb off.

"What is it, Orin?" Bartram wondered. "You've hardly said a word ever since we left Lake Ashmere. What happened there?"

"I don't wish to speak about it." Orin answered. "Perhaps I will tell you later, but for now, I need a walk and a place to bathe. Preferably a hot bath, as I am disgusted in my own skin at the moment."

Up ahead, the Lady's caravan had stopped. Oryala and Sundri were seen getting of the lead carriage. The moment the Lady set foot on the stone-bricked street, several of the local people, most of them merchants, walked over to welcome her back. This allowed the sorceress to leave Oryala's side and join Orin and the others.

"What is the matter, Orin?" Sundri asked.

"I would like to have a bath before I enter into any castle." He replied.

"You can take a bath inside the castle." Sundri mentioned. "Lady Oryala has said that her bathing chambers are magnificent."

"I don't want to bathe in the Lady's chambers." Orin refused. "I want to bathe in a common bathhouse."

"Why?"

"Perhaps it is because I am a commoner!"

Sundri frowned at him. "Come now, Orin. What is this really about?"

Orin's friends had assumed the youth had a falling out with the men from Grauxall. They thought those men had pushed Orin out of Ashmere Lake, and that was the reason why the youth was found walking alone on the road. The Lady's knights went to visit the lake community, only to be told by the villagers that the Grauxall men were still on the hunt for ogres and that all was well in hand. That was all that needed to be said, as right behind the wagons from Castra Devana had come the wagons from Grauxall with their remaining unruly knights and their tents and other equipment. Deciding the ogre threat to be minimal, Oryala decided not to stop at the lake and to keep going to her kingdom. None of them was the wiser as to why Orin had really left.

"Perhaps Orin would be more comfortable if he spoke only with me." Bartram suggested.

"Why only you?" Sundri asked. "I am Orin's friend as much as you are. Orin, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know that, dear." Orin acknowledged her. "But Bartram is in the right. This is a matter I wish to keep private."

"Did those ruffians from Grauxall bully you?" Sundri's temper rose.

"No, it isn't that sort of matter." Orin replied. "It is the way the world turns, I suppose. I did not expect it, that is all."

"What did you not expect?" Sundri pressed, just as Oryala came to join them.

More decisively, Orin said, "I wish to have a walk after having ridden in that wagon for so long. Besides that, I want to step into the castle feeling fresh and bathed. Bartram will accompany me. I will see all of you in a short time. Sundri, Miriam, milady."

The young man bowed. Oryala has just arrived, so she had no idea what they'd been speaking of. Sundri eyed daggers at Bartram for a quick moment, before she turned to smile at the Lady and repeated Orin's decision.

"You will find us in the castle." Sundri said, trying not to show her irritation. "Do be careful in this new place. Oh, and here is your purse. I've been holding it for you all this time, fearing you might drop it."

"Thank you, Sundri." Orin took the coin pouch. He hadn't even caught the second it had taken the sorceress to withdraw it from her magic storehouse.

The sorceress turned to apologize to Oryala. "Well, Orin does smell something fierce, doesn't he? And that Bartram, he always smells twice as bad. The man reminds me of a rotten skunk at times. We will see you at the castle, Orin."

Sundri took Oryala's arm and walked off with her, leaving Miriam behind.

"At least you two get to be your selves." The raven-haired girl complained. "I have to pretend to be Sundri's handmaiden."

Once Miriam too had walked off, Bartram remarked, "That Sundri is growing more and more jealous with every passing day."

"Do you mean jealous of you and I?" Orin asked. "Yes, I have noticed that. She wasn't this bad before Miriam came along, was she?"

"But she is that bad now!" The archer replied, leaning in closer and chuckling. "It is a competition for your cock. I don't think she expected for me to be her rival in that way, but I admit that I am. And why not? You are young, strong and handsome, are you not? I feel no remorse in saying that I find you attractive. And now Sundri also has Miriam and Oryala to worry about. Are you willing to try something new with me, Orin? Perhaps that is what you need to loosen you up. Then you can tell me what is weighing so heavily on your mind."

Carelessly, Orin shrugged back.

Bartram took this as a signal to proceed. Right after, the archer began stopping men who walked by alone and making a strange request. After four tries, a passerby gave him the directions to a bathhouse. "Let's go!"

"I heard you, Bartram." Orin said as he walked along. "I heard what you were asking those men. You told them you were looking for a bathhouse for adventurous men. What does that mean?"

"You will soon see." Bartram grinned.

Since Orin had never been inside a bathhouse before, he found the establishment to be peculiar. First of all, it was called the Demented Minstrel. No persons at all were seen outside of the place, but through an offset hallway, designed so that outsiders could not easily peek in, they came to a wide social room with a number of men standing in it. To a one, these men wore expensive clothing, such as felt hats with feathers, linen shirts that exposed part of the chest, fine cloaks and tight trousers that hugged the skin in what Orin considered an unacceptable manner. Older men and younger conversed together, at times reaching out to touch or rub shoulders. The men laughed and kidded with one another, and the atmosphere was one of gregariousness and frolic.

Many men turned to observe Orin and Bartram stepping into their midst. Clearly, these patrons did not approve of their dusty attire, but they did approve of Orin's open and dashing looks. A few men even gave Bartram the sort of glance an interested woman might give a potential suitor.

"We are new to this city, and were invited to the castle by Lady Oryala." Bartram told those nearest to where they stood. "Would you care to direct me to the nearest clerk?"

Orin knew his friend's words had been deliberate, as the mere mention of the Lady caused many pair of eyes to give them a second, longer look.

One man as old as Bartram, but with a much kinder countenance, left the group he was part of to approach them. "I manage the bathhouse. Would you like a bath?"

"Would you be so kind as to arrange one for us?" Bartram asked. "Pardon these rugged clothes, but we have only just returned from a hunt with the Lady and several of her knights. It would do us no credit to enter the castle in this sorry state."

"Obviously." The manager replied. "What sort of hunt?"

"Ogres."

At this, the manager's eyes widened. "How dangerous! In addition to the bath, would you like a massage and oil?"

"All of it." The archer nodded. "While we bathe, we would also appreciate if we could have a dedicated masseuse. An adventurous masseuse."

"Of course." The manager replied. "In the dressing room, you will find a number of attendants standing by to help the bathers. Feel free to choose any man that is to your liking. How will you pay for our services?"

"About that." Bartram made a pained face. "I will give you five shillings now. If you could arrange a credit for the remainder? Rest assured, my good sir, the balance will be paid the moment we have been given our share of the reward for our ogre hunt. Orin, will you hand me the coin purse?"

It was really Sundri's purse, the young man knew. He didn't like the idea of spending money that did not belong to him, but at the same time he did not want to put Bartram on the spot. Besides, as the archer said, they were promised a full pound of gold once the ogre heads were turned over to the Church.

Bartram made a display of removing a number of coins from the purse, more than the amount he'd mentioned. It was a ploy to show that he could have paid of the entire amount right away, but was choosing not to.

"I will start up a credit with your name, sir...?" The manager inquired.

"You may call me Bartram." The archer replied. "I no knight or nobleman, however. I serve my young lord Orin here. He is an errant squire out to make a name for himself. If he impresses the Lady Oryala with his prowess, perhaps he might obtain a knighthood in this very kingdom."

"That would be delightful." The manager eyed Orin once more.

"Will you show us the way to the dressing room?" The archer asked.

Orin and Bartram were led into another hallway, which split off into several paths.

"First is the dressing room." The manager described. "Next is the room for cooling down, once you are ready to dress again. After that you will find a chamber for a warm bath, and a chamber for a hot bath. If you would prefer privacy, inform your attendant. Our services are very discreet, and rest assured, you will be in good hands."

"Thank you, good sir." Bartram nodded, before he started into the dressing area.

"What have you gotten me into?" Orin asked, following close behind. "Is it true that all these men are cock-gobblers?"

The archer laughed. "Who told you that term?"

"It was an insult used in my village." Orin answered, pausing when he took in the broad expanse of the chamber.

The walls were made of large bricks covered over with plaster and whitewashed, giving them a polished white sheen. Small, numbered recesses were put into the walls, where patrons would set their clothing and other personal items. Other recesses were shelves for keeping oils or towels. At present, two men were getting their shoulders and backs massaged, one with oil and the other with bare hands. Several attendants stood ready to assist at the rear of the chamber.

Orin had a good look at the workers. Most were young men, some as young as he was. One man looked to be a few years older, but he had immense muscles and looked as if he could carry the entire world on his back. Orin had trouble believing that man was of the adventurous persuasion. The last couple of attendants were actually older men, older than Bartram, but Orin supposed that since those men worked there, patrons who preferred them would call them upon also.

"You can choose our attendant, Orin." Bartram said. "Or I can choose one for us."

Orin's eyes scanned the lot of attendants. Perhaps it was thanks to his encounter with the ghosts at Dunnidale, when he'd lost his virginity to both a man and a woman, that he didn't feel embarrassed to scrutinize the lot. If he were a woman, surely he would choose that muscular brute to bed with. At the same time, Orin knew he was a young man, and he was not yet ready to point out a man to bed with. "Bartram, you do it."

Bartram nodded, leading Orin to the back of the chamber. He selected a man of nineteen or twenty years, with hair in a light brown and his tunic open to show most of his taut chest. The man widened his eyes as a woman would, and he had the habit of lifting his chin up and grinning. He was pretty, Orin decided, like a woman.

"You are a handsome dandy, aren't you?" Bartram was coy with his choice. "What is your name?"

"Crispin."

Even the man's voice was soft, sounding like a woman's, Orin compared.

"I am Bartram, and this is my master Orin. We want an oil massage and a private bath for the two of us. You will join us in the bath, won't you?"

"All you need do is ask." Crispin produced a charming smile. "Both of you may sit there on that bench, while I get the oil."

"You there." Bartram called out, as he and Orin sat. "Will you massage my young lord here?"

The seated Orin had his back to the farther wall. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw the muscular man stepping to him. Perhaps Bartram had seen his gaze centered on that man, and so had chosen him. Orin felt both a thrill and reluctance, when the strong man put his hands on Orin's shoulders. Once the attendant had kneaded his arms for a few moments, Orin gave into the pressure and relaxed.

This muscular brute was a man any woman would become excited over, Orin considered, and here that man was giving him a massage. Every so often, during the last few weeks, Orin had wondered if he could bed a man like Bartram. That was because he felt that sooner or later, Bartram would sidle up to him and make himself available. This man with his big, strong muscles, Orin felt, would be much easier to lie with, especially if they were out in the woods where none would be the wiser about it.

Once the simple massage was finished, Crispin had Orin and Bartram undress. Right away, their clothes were sent out for cleaning, so they would be ready to wear once the bath was over. An oil massage followed, from neck to feet, before Crispin led them off to the section for private bathing. The bath water was warm and pleasant, as it was heated by a system of underground ovens.

That man Crispin turned out to be a social butterfly, as he spoke of the many wonderful things found in Castra Devana, and in Castle Overdon. Crispin told them of the latest news and gossip, including attacks on the kingdom by roaming bandits and packs of wild ogres, and he passed on lewd jokes or poems. It was not awkward at all for the nude Crispin to stand between them in the bath, reaching out to caress Bartram's chest, or to rub on Orin's shoulder.

"Did you like that strong man, Orin?" Bartram wondered. "I saw how your gaze slowed when you looked at him."

"I don't know." Orin shrugged. "I thought surely the maidens would flock to a man such as that one. I wonder if I can puff up my muscles to that great size."

"I can fetch him, if you'd like." Crispin flirted with Orin by batting his eyes. "You should know, that just as his muscles are big and fat, so is his cock."

"Orin is only here to watch what goes on." Bartram mentioned.

"Oh." Crispin said. "That's strange, for a young man to come to a place like this only to watch."

"Orin has never slept with a man." Bartram explained. "We are having our baths now and later he will tell me if he liked coming here or not."

"I see." Crispin understood. "You are a handsome morsel, Orin. I could be your first man, if you want me to."

Orin considered the man and his light brown hair. Crispin was pretty, he decided, but he would be even prettier with a woman's breasts, or a woman's wider backside. He asked, "Are you making your arse available for me?"