But Gantalla was still standing at the side of the tub, a look of consternation on her face. A smirk lit Nalyx’s face as he realised the cause of it. In order to wash him, Gantalla was going to have to get in the tub with him. Beneath the water, he felt his cock stir.
A cute little frown on her face, Gantalla stripped off her boots, setting them neatly beside Nalyx’s clothes. Then she glanced about again. The bathhouse was relatively quiet, but there were a couple of women in the other tubs, taking advantage of the morning peace to bathe before more people arrived in the afternoon. It was a well known routine that the warriors liked to bathe here after they’d slept off the effects of too much alcohol from the night before, and the women who joined them were far less modest than Gantalla was currently being. Which meant that giggling and splashing often gave way to more hedonistic pleasures.
But none of the other women were paying them any mind. And though all of them were either too old to arouse Nalyx’s interest or already married, they were all naked, not at all embarrassed about their nudity despite the presence of a man in the bathhouse. As libidinous as the warriors tended to be, there were clear lines in their moral code, and sleeping with another man’s wife was strictly on the bad behaviour list. The consequences of such an indiscretion could range from paying a fine to being kicked out of the army entirely, and the latter was certainly not something Nalyx ever wanted to risk.
Seeming to make a decision, Gantalla stripped off her trousers, setting them on the step. But then, to Nalyx’s surprise, she stepped into the pool still wearing her cotton shirt. It was long, falling to mid thigh, and sadly covering anything that might have been more interesting to look at. From the looks of it, her legs were strong, though. Too many of the serving women focused on being slim, at the expense of any real strength. Gantalla was too lean to be healthy, but her legs held plenty of muscle – the wiry sort that came from long, slow effort.
Nalyx considered for a moment what she must have been through to have walked all the way here from Gadash. It would have taken weeks to cover that distance, and the muscles standing out in stark relief on her legs were clear evidence that she’d got here under her own steam.
But before Nalyx could ponder the idea much more, Gantalla interrupted his thoughts. “Hold out your arms,” she said, taking a wash cloth and a bar of soap from the side of the pool.
“You don’t have to bathe with your shirt on,” Nalyx said, flirting a natural reflex. He quirked an eyebrow at her, a suggestive smirk on his lips.
Gantalla’s jaw tightened, but at the same time, a hint of a smile tugged at the edge of her lips. Her cheekbones were high and her nose was small. She had a subtly foreign look about her, but nothing obvious enough that Nalyx could have picked her ancestry. Her skin was a little paler than the average native of Minia, but that was all he could really pin it down to. All of that made her pretty enough, but it was her long, black hair that was by far and away her best feature. It gleamed in the light, straight and thick, and Nalyx let himself imagine what it would feel like to have that hair sliding over his body as he lay with Gantalla in bed, silky smooth locks caressing his chest, his thigh…
“I offered to get you clean,” Gantalla said, in a stern voice. “And I think it’s in your own best interests to not have too many distractions while I do it. Keep your hands above the water,” she added, and Nalyx realised he’d lowered his arms until the bandages were a mere inch above the water line. He lifted them again, then sat still while she washed his arms and chest. He thought about flexing his biceps or pecs a little, then dismissed the idea. He didn’t need to beg for attention. There were plenty of other women champing at the bit for five minutes alone with him. It was Gantalla’s loss if she wanted to overlook the opportunities right in front of her.
Set on her task, she continued downwards, washing his hips and thighs, but bypassing his groin entirely. Then she picked up his right leg. “Hold onto the side of the tub,” she said, in that same, disinterested monotone. Automatically, he did, then she lifted his leg higher, carefully washing the lingering mud off his calf, then his foot.
What the hell sort of game was she playing at? Nalyx scowled, at the same time as he felt a surge in his groin. Gantalla’s wet shirt was clinging to her breasts, an entirely indecent sight that was somehow more tempting than if she’d been entirely naked. If his hands hadn’t been wrapped in bandages, he would have reached out to cup them. They were an enticing size and would have overflowed his palms, and then he would lean down, teasing her nipples with his tongue…
Gantalla set his foot down abruptly and lifted his other leg. She didn’t even glance at his groin as she did so.
“I nearly killed a unicorn, you know,” Nalyx said, the words coming out unexpectedly harsh. Fuck Hallix and his arrogant posturing. It was about time someone knew that Nalyx had been part of that battle too, and had got there a whole lot earlier than Hallix. “Chased it through the forest after it charged through the gate. I could have killed it, too. Damn thing stabbed me through the shoulder. That’s how I burned my hands.”
By this point, any of the other women would have been squealing in terror or cooing in admiration. And even though Nalyx knew they often played up their reactions, even that was preferable to Gantalla’s cool silence.
“I stabbed it through the chest. So by the time Hallix got around to killing it, it was already half dead. I’d have finished it off, if he hadn’t arrived.” Even Nalyx knew he was stretching the truth with that one. More likely, the unicorn would have stomped him to death, but Gantalla didn’t need to know that.
Gantalla glanced up at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “Did you really?” she said, setting his foot back down.
“I killed one of those big, black motherfuckers as well,” Nalyx went on, trying to ignore how badly he needed some sort of acknowledgement from her. He risked his life, day in, day out, to keep the rest of the world safe, and Gantalla was behaving like he’d done nothing more than catch a wild rabbit for dinner.
“I really don’t like hearing stories of battle,” Gantalla cut him off, abruptly standing up and climbing out of the tub. “I’ve seen far too much bloodshed already.”
Nalyx felt a snarl curl his lip. “You don’t care about the…” He stopped what he’d been about to say abruptly, as he suddenly remembered what she’d said the night before. “Fuck, I didn’t… Sorry. Your family was killed recently,” he reminded himself. “Sorry.” Gods, he was an insensitive brute. After likely seeing her own father killed in front of her, she hardly needed more tales of death and blood.
Gantalla sighed. “I know everyone here is in awe of the warriors. And I’m grateful for anyone who risks their life to keep me safe. But after seeing so many people die, I’d… I’d rather just not talk about it.”
“I’m sorry,” Nalyx said again. Maybe he should just get his head out of his own ass for a moment.
Gantalla smiled, but Nalyx could tell it was forced. “Let’s get you out of the tub,” she said, offering her hand. “We can find somewhere for you to sit and I’ll wash your hair for you.”
It was a fine idea, as Nalyx was well aware of the fact that his hair was still a matted mess, but suddenly, he found an entirely different problem with her suggestion. She was standing there, in her drenched shirt, every detail of her body on display to his roving eyes, and his cock was standing proudly at attention, ignoring his urgent pleas for the thing to suddenly learn a sense of decorum and go the hell away.
But she was still standing there, hand held out, waiting for him, so he stood up. Half of him was hoping she’d just ignore it, while another part of his brain was screaming for her to look down. He’d spent the first night of the festival in hospital, and the second night getting drunk, and after three long weeks without female company, he was suddenly overcome with the knowledge that aside from Liatra’s ill-timed lap dance, he hadn’t come even close to relieving the ache in his groin. Normally by this point in the festival, he’d have bedded at least three women, and quite possibly more.
He stepped out of the tub, aware of his erection bobbing in the cool air. Gantalla didn’t even blink. Maybe she hadn’t noticed? But how the hell could she not notice? He wasn’t exactly small, and he was as hard as he’d ever been, his cock throbbing, his balls feeling full and tight.
Gantalla reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist, and he had to bite back a groan at the feel of the soft fabric against his over-sensitive flesh. It made a tent in the front of his towel… but Gantalla simply reached for another towel, draping it over his shoulders.
But no, was that… was she blushing? Just a faint hint of red over her skin… But it could have just been from the heat of the water…
“Come and sit over here,” she said, leading him towards the stone steps at the side of the bathhouse. It was hard to tell whether she was avoiding his gaze, or just watching where she was going. The stone floor could be slippery, after all.
Nalyx sat down, and Gantalla fetched a bucket and filled it from the tub. Nalyx leaned forward, head down, and Gantalla set about pouring water over his hair. She added soap, then rubbed the lather through his hair, giving his scalp a thorough massage as she went, and this time, Nalyx did groan. Gods, that felt divine.
Her hands didn’t stray the entire time, rinsing his hair carefully to keep water from getting on his shoulder, then afterwards, she helped him dress again. Thankfully, by that point, his cock was back to behaving itself, so she didn’t have to go to any particular effort to get him back inside his trousers.
