Savage Empire

While Lenardo fumbled for polite words, Aradia burst into laughter. " I have no intention of taking my clothes off," she said. "Whatever were you thinking of? I am an Adept, virgin-sworn. You are my patient, still weak after serious illness. I'll not have you fainting in your bath."

Lenardo felt compelled to explain. "I too am 'virgin-sworn,' as you put it. You are not a Reader. If you were, you and I would never meet face to face, let alone…"

"Why not?" she asked blankly.

'To tempt the flesh with what it may not have is to incite lustful thoughts that interfere with concentration." Lenardo recalled being caught kissing the innkeeper's daughter at the age of twelve. Despite a whipping that had left him unable to sit for a week, and hours of meditation exercises meant to banish the incident from his thoughts, for months, every time he let his guard drop he would feel the softness of her lips on his, the strange, warm sensations in his loins.

With a Reader's discipline, Lenardo banished the memory instantly. Aradia was saying, "You mean until you were exiled you lived entirely segregated from women?"

"Oh, no! Just from female Readers. I was at the academy at Adigia. There were only boys there, in training to be Readers, but we went among the townspeople often. We had had to leave our own mothers, so many of the women in town were very kind to the younger boys."

"What about the girls in town, as you grew older?"

Could she Read-? No, had she noticed some look in his eye a few moments ago? "We had to learn to resist, of course. The blood of youth runs hot; one of the hardest lessons we must learn is to abate that heat."

She smiled again the dangerous smile that half transformed her to a wolf. "I wonder just how well you have learned that lesson? But come-take your bath while the water is still warmer than your blood. I am no Reader, nor bound by your strange customs. You have a fine body, Lenardo. If the sight of it should heat my blood, all the better-I can make positive use of such energy!"

It was maddening not to be able to Read her when she teased him so. Embarrassed, he retreated into stubbornness, stiffly clutching his robe about him and looking at her defiantly.

"Do you expect me to waste my energy disrobing you?" she asked at last.

"You will have to if you think to get me into that tub with you still in the room."

Exasperated, she said, "Very well-prove to yourself how weak you are. I'll be right outside." She took a step, then turned back. "Lenardo, what sense does it make for a Reader, of all people, to be embarrassed about the exposure of naked flesh? Certainly you can all Read through one another's clothing if you want to."

"Precisely," he replied. "That is the reason the Law of Privacy must be so deeply ingrained in us."

She tilted her head to one side as she always did when she was thoughtful. "I'll have to consider the logic of that," she said and left.

When the door had closed behind Aradia, Lenardo stripped off his robe and stepped into the tub. He had to fold his long legs so his knees almost touched his chin when he sat down, but the warm water felt good. He leaned back, getting as much of himself as he could under water, luxuriating in the minor pleasure that he would know infrequently on this side of the border.

There was soap, a sweet-smelling bar of pale gold. The empire had never found the secret of making it; the luxury item was purchased from seamen who also traded with the savages. Only a very few times had Lenardo bathed with soap; on holidays and other rare occasions the housekeeper at the academy would break out their meager supply, and the bath house would be awash in bubbles.

Lenardo laved suds through his hair and beard, sat up to soap his arms and chest, and started to stand to get at the rest of himself. The sudden movement after the heat of the bath made him dizzy. He staggered and, trying to catch himself without knocking the tub of water over, stepped out of the tub, his legs at an awkward angle for support. He reached toward the closest item of furniture, a light chair onto which he had thrown his robe.

Soap-slick hands clutched at the chair at the same moment his wet foot hit the smooth floor. Neither achieved support, and he went down in a heap, overturning the chair with a ringing clatter.

By the time he'd got his feet under him and was trying to rise, Aradia was beside him, her worry turning to anger the moment she realized that he was unhurt. "I told you you'd faint!"

"I didn't faint. I slipped."

"Oh-get back in the tub. I suppose we're lucky you didn't flood the whole room!"

Lenardo cringed inwardly when Aradia picked up soap and sponge and began to scrub him, but embarrassment held him silent long enough to realize that her touch was impersonal. She made him move so she could reach every part of him, and he submitted in silence, sensing that she had no interest in him except as a patient-or perhaps her property to be maintained.