Chapter#06
Vadya laughed and made imitation trumpet noises of retreat, lounging back in his bath.
He was not particularly handsome but he was a fit young man with broad shoulders and narrow hips. His sweetness of character showed in the kind smile that often came over his generous big mouth. He was a good prospect for any younger daughter of the high nobility, sprawled in the bathtub in his tent, the strength of his muscular shoulders and thighs offset by a gentle heart and courteous disposition.
In describing his virtues his father had not mentioned the magnitude of his masculinity. Vadya himself had never much considered it. He had not had many lovers. The main relationship of his life thus far had been with a woman who was not interested in the size of what she occasionally enjoyed so much as the gentle affection of his heart. A spirited young Lady of the high nobility with a bright reputation had once said to him: "da-arling, what an horse you are!" but the modest young Lord el Gaiel had only supposed she was trying to flatter him into more of her interesting activities.
He lay sniggering in the warm water, splashing with big weapons-hardened hands -- which were frequently admired for their delicate skill on the horses' reins -- so that the water flowed about his hips and his thighs and his flaccid cock and balls.
He felt vaguely surprised; Tashka Maien was infamous for the disgusting stories he would come out with on night-sentry duty by the fire.
The tent-flaps through which Tashka had departed so abruptly fluttered in a light breeze, Vadya stared lazily out. Beyond the troop on almost every side he saw the pale grassy plains stretched in shimmering waves to the milky blue of the horizon. The campsite Vadya had chosen was on a long shallow hillside, near some leafy green woods but not near enough that the woods could become a hazard. A small river flowed below, convenient for washing and for watering the horses. It made a pleasant constant babble behind the fluctuating level of the troop's noise. You heard it clearly in the still watches of the night, in the middle of practising some manoeuvre it might disappear in the jingle of harness and weaponry, the stamp of hoof and foot. Then it would be there again behind the shrill yells of the officers repeating orders to their men.
The guard-posts, baggage wagons, tents and picket-lines of horses were laid out in an orderly way. The troop was well-set to defend itself against an enemy attack, or, more likely in the Vail plains where they were practising light summer manoeuvres, a practice raid by a friendly troop seeking to win a few cases of wine and some glory.
There was another troop encamped nearby but unfortunately it was Ninth Vail, the play troop of the frivolous young Lordling of Vail, Pava el Jien. There would be no glory in springing a practice attack on Ninth Vail. Young Commander-Lord el Jien van Vail had been trained as an excellent field officer but these days he spent his time partying with visiting officer-aristocrats. He was Vadya's age and easy-going fun so Vadya was friends with him even though he had been an officer of Fourth Sietter, by the side of the el Maien van Sietter brothers.
It was Pava who had recommended Tashka Maien to Vadya's notice and Tashka had asked if he might spend a couple of days with Pava. They were only trotting round the Vail plains as a kind of holiday, Vadya readily granted his request even though Tashka was about to go on extended leave. He said he would ride over to Ninth Vail's encampment with Tashka.
By the time Tashka came back Vadya was outside his tent dressed in an elegant red silk doublet and breeches. He had tried to insist that jodhpurs and a plain shirt would be better for the ride over to Ninth Vail's encampment but his manservant Batren said, with that glazed obstinate expression that meant he would be willing to argue about it with you for a long time: "Captain Maien suggested you wear a suit." Vadya was sniffing at a bottle of wine, by his campaign table laid for dinner. He noticed that Tashka was looking particularly attractive in a dark blue silk that matched his eyes, with a lot of lace at the collar and cuffs of his cream silk shirt and a large pearl and diamond drop earring in his ear. Vadya felt an uncomfortable swelling in his underpants which he ignored (luckily his breeches were loose around the groin). He hoped with a qualm that nobody in Ninth Vail would mistake Tashka's elegance and offer him insulting attentions.
Tashka was apparently still embarrassed about having walked in on his commanding officer in the bath. He grumbled, "you have no shame," as he flung himself into a folding canvas chair. He set one black booted ankle on the other blue silk-clad knee, his lovely features crumpled in a frown.
Vadya burst out laughing. "Holy Angels!" he said. "What need has a soldier of shame?"
"Give me some of that Athagine," Tashka replied crossly.
Vadya thought of one particular story of Tashka's about a farmer's daughter and shook his head with a snigger.
He poured Tashka a bowl of deep red wine, almost purple, heavy waves lapping at the white inside of the beautifully painted clay bowl, one of a set Tashka had given him. Tashka took the bowl, stared intently at the colour of the wine, smelt it and sighed.
"My life for your banner," he said the casual toast slowly, looking warmly up into Vadya's brown eyes. Vadya knew he meant it. Tashka had risked his life to save Vadya's from a rearing horse. When they were caught in a disgusting little defile in the mountains in V'ta (which Vadya had insisted to lead them through although Tashka had said the steep cliff faces were a hazard), it was Tashka who broke out to fetch support from a nearby P'shan troop.