Tristakinnia woke up and stretched. The beds in Libia were not the same as at home, soft and comfortable, and there was no desire to get out of them. Frey was standing yet wet-haired in front of the mirror, and when he saw that she was awake, he turned around.
“Do you go to the bathhouse in the evening and the morning?”
“Yes, I'm hot.”
Tristakinnia sighed, she also would have to bathe twice a day, but with her hair, it was just torture. Frey looked down at his clothes, cleaned and folded. He had been here for a week, and for a week he watched the local warriors dress. The man went to the chair where lied the local clothes and began to dress.
“You wear the clothes of the slaves?” quipped Tristakinniya.
Frey pulled the corner of the mouth.
“In the land of slaves, there is no point in wearing the clothing of gods,” Thin pleasant fabric soothingly touched the skin of Frey. He put a few strings around his neck, amulets, medallions, “I'll go to the town and see what's going on, and you... can pay your respects.”
“I want to go with you,” Tristakinnia said, jumping out of bed.
“Ok. But quickly.”
“Shouldn’t we be at breakfast?”
“We should nothing to do,” Frey hissed.
“Do you have any local money? If, for example, we got thirsty. There are no brooks to drink in.”
“Yes, I sold some gold coins yesterday.”
“Is it possible to exchange our money for theirs?”
“You can, and it’s valued here more, as I’ve understood. One of our coins changes to fifty of theirs. Besides, I asked what I could get for fifty of their coins, everything is cheaper here.”
Tristakinnia went to dress, but seeing the indifferent look of the Frey, went to the bathroom.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“To wash. Didn’t you think I would bathe once a week in this heat, like at home?”
“Well, you only washed when you arrived,” Frey said.
“Yes, you mean you started washing twice a day as soon as you arrived.”
Her husband stared at her with frosty eyes.
“Yes, I am…” he said, a little puzzled.
Tristakinnia pursed her lips and disappeared in the bath. Frey dropped into a comfortable chair and picked up Nazihat. The more he read, the less he liked it.
Someone knocked on the door and a servant entered.
“Sir, Sultan Osnan will be glad to see you at breakfast.”
“I wanted to…” Frey looked at the door of the bathhouse. “Say to him something pleasant from me. We'll be there soon.”
“His might Sultan isn’t used to wait.”
“Am I supposed to drag my wife out of the bathroom in her birthday suit and take her to breakfast?” Frey growled.
The servant didn’t expect such an outburst of rage, especially since he was afraid, like many here, of the savage. He bowed and left. Frey went back to reading.
Iskander got up early, and there was always work to be done at home for the family to thrive. He was a guest in the Sultan's Palace, so he didn't have to wait for the dawn and get up later for breakfast, but the Sheikh liked to meet the sun being awake. As he praised Elokh in the pre-dawn silence, Iskander felt unity with God and the blessing of nature.
Soon Iskander was knocking at the door of the room to Amelik to call him for a training battle. Although he no longer wanted to participate in real battles, Iskander continued to sharpen his skills, as was required by the traditions of his family. Amelik didn’t open the door immediately, thinking that he was called to breakfast, and leaned out of the door, hiding someone in the room. He smiled brightly.
“Oh, it's you.” Amelik let his friend in. Two pretty girls from the seraglio were lying in his bed. Al-Tol was naked.
“I want to invite you to practice.”
“Oh, yes, I'll be right there,” Amelik said, quickly dressing.
The Sheikh took his sword and walked easily with Iskander to the training hall.
The training was fun, the men were exchanging unflattering epithets, threatening, and practicing techniques. At last, breathing heavily and smiling drunkenly, they stopped and looked at each other.
“Do you think the savages will understand the beauty of our world?” Amelik asked, drying himself.
“The great-grandmother of Enefrey cherishes the hope that he, as Sultan, will set northerners over larabavians.
“But this is a different world, different time. We want unity, not the setting over,” shook his head Amelik, “I could understand Enefeya, then the manners were savage. They may still be like that in the North...but Osnan is for the prosperity and development of his people. There will be war if Enefrey listens to the grandmother. But besides Enefeya, he has a mother and a father,” Amelik laughed, “and Osnan himself, who teaches him. Enefrey is a smart boy, and I don't think his great-grandmother's barbaric desires will prevail.”
“Northerners will not become larabavians. They consider themselves grandsons of the gods. And all the rest as slaves.”
Amelik snorted.
“God is one! It’s foolish to think that there’re some gods more, especially who slept with people so that they had children. We are all children of Elokh!”
Iskander smiled.
“Besides, the Sultan didn't keep their ancestral titles.”
“Why not? He did”, laughed Amelik, “but they don't mean anything here.”
“If you were offered such peace, I have no doubt you would refuse the beauty of an alien world.”
“But otherwise, Osnan would have killed all their families!” Amelik frowned, “The reality isn't always what we want it to be! If I started thinking of myself as a prophet, it doesn't mean I would become one, and sooner or later I would have to be shown my place! Descendants of the gods,” the man chuckled “they are like beautiful animals...”
“You, too, think your people are special, chosen by Elokh. This is natural, everyone believes they belong to some special race and no one likes it when one race rises above the other.”
“Elokh is calling for all nations!” Said Amelik offended, “But some people don't understand his grace!”
“If you respect Odin, he won't kick you away, either.”
Amelik spat.
“Go away with your jokes! It’s a sin to honor another god than Elokh!” He pushed his friend into the pool.
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