Chapter 2

Ten days later the two soldiers trotted their horses through the growing fields that fed the provincial town of Esala, seat of the governor of the Northeastern province of the kingdom. As they came into view, a bell sounded from one of the guard towers and the doors began to shut.

The two men looked at each other and shrugged with a lack of understanding. They took their time and marched up to the gate. Their uniforms were clearly visible but the gate refused to budge as they drew near.

"Ho! Gatekeeper!" Gregor yelled, "We are the King's Guard here on official business with the governor. Open the gate!"

"Have you come from the plague lands?" A voice called down.

"Aye."

"Then you shall not enter this domain, King's Guard or not. The plague has not penetrated these walls and you shall not be the ones to bring it into our midst. Begone!"

Stefan was perturbed, "We are not infected with the plague, Gatekeeper. We have no swellings on our bodies or disfigurements. Neither of us is coughing or spitting blood."

An older female voice joined the gruff male from the tower. "You have no symptoms of the plague on you?"

"None, my lady," Gregor confirmed, "Upon my honor as a soldier of the King's Guard, we are untouched."

There was a murmur of voices as an argument ensued in the tower. Gregor and Stefan couldn't catch the gist of the argument, only a few snatches of words here and there.

"Very well," the lady called down, "Dismount and remove all of your clothes."

"That's highly irregular," Gregor called back, but Stefan was already climbing off of his horse.

The two stripped off all of their clothes and left them in a pile by their horses. Gregor glanced at Stefan and remarked, "I didn't know you hung to the left."

"I'm left-handed, fool," Stefan bit back with garrison grown bravado.

"Hold your arms up and turn around slowly that we may examine all of your skin," came the command from above.

The two nude men slowly rotated in place as one called to the other, "I hope they're enjoying the show." They waited.

Finally one of the doors opened and two old maids came forward with long leather gloves and two small caldrons. Their faces looked set and their countenance was most unhappy. The last thing on their minds appeared to be the sight of two naked young men.

"Step away from your clothes," the one with buckteeth ordered.

"If you are truly soldiers," the other dared them, "then you will endure this acid bath without caterwauling. I hate to see grown men cry."

The maids put on their gloves, which came up almost to their shoulders and then reached into the caldron for the scrubbing rags. A hiss escaped from Stefan's lips as the liquid burned the dead skin from his flesh. Gregor didn't bother to withhold his displeasure and offered up many fanciful combinations of his favorite expletives.

"Close your eyes, deary," Stefan's torturer ordered, "You don't want to get this stuff in your eyes. Burn the orbs right out of your sockets, if you're not careful."

Stefan began chanting the Rune of Enduring Strength as his maid rubbed the more delicate parts of his body. His eyes were closed, but he felt her look upon him as the low chant passed between them. She had him bend over to clean out that most private of spots, which had his mind keening in pain. He held to the notes though and kept chanting as he felt her attention turn to his scalp. The roots of his hair felt like they were smoking.

Gregor screamed in agony.

"All done," the maid whispered in his ear. "You have an inner fortitude to you, don't 'cher."

The older female voice that was above them now called to Stefan and Gregor from the doorway. "Leave all of your equipment where it is and come to the door."

As Stefan and Gregor walked towards the door, they heard one of the old maids remark to the other, "have you ever seen one that leans to the left?"

"I shall not be able to take a crap for a week," Gregor mentioned to Stefan out of the side of his mouth, "much less sit down."

"You scream like a girl," Stefan replied.

"The way they were going about it, I almost became a girl," Gregor retorted.

They marched up to the mature woman who gave their bodies a professional survey before allowing them to step into the entrance. She still had a youthful figure with a full bosom. Her hair was a dark brown pulled back with a leather thong and pierced with long stick with no hint of grey. The intelligence in her hazel eyes was undeniable.

Gratefully the two soldiers donned the proffered robes and stepped into sandals under her watchful eyes while half a platoon of soldiers armed with metal tipped spears guarded the inner way.

"What was that all about," Stefan queried.