Theos shrugged. “Three festivals a year. Babies don’t always come from festival couplings, of course, but . . . one or two a year, from that. And then an invitation to the city most cycles, when I’m not on campaign, and they time it all carefully, so quite a few of those visits result in babies. So maybe five or six visits a year, for three or four more babies a year . . .” The math seemed simple.
“We don’t all get the extra invitations,” Achus told Finnvid patiently. “You wouldn’t know it to look at him right now, but when Theos shaves and cleans up, he’s a handsome devil. And the women look at his career too, and hear reports from officers and from other women. They like him because he’s good stock so he’ll probably give them good babies.” Achus lowered his voice a little as he added, “And because he makes themscreamwith pleasure.”
“While men like Elios are sleeping off a big meal,” Theos said with a laugh. Then he turned his attention to Finnvid. Was it cruel to ask him about his old life, the one he’d never be able to go back to? Maybe, but it seemed awkward to ignore the topic altogether. So he tried to keep his question general. “I’ve heard rumors that Elkati mate for life, like beavers.”
“Beavers?”
“One male beaver, one female beaver, in their lodge. Beavers.”
Finnvid clearly didn’t like the comparison. “We—wemarry. We make vows to be faithful to each other.”
“To have sexonlywith each other, forever?” Theos frowned. “What if you get tired of each other? What if your couplings don’t produce babies? What if one of you dies?”
“If one of usdies, the other could remarry,” Finnvid said, straightening his shoulders. “But otherwise . . . we remain faithful.”
“Sex withoneperson.Forever.” Theos realized he’d expected to be laughed at when he’d brought up the rumors. How could anything so ridiculous actually be true? “So, have you married?” Theos was curious. “Will your woman marry again, now that you’re gone?”
Finnvid looked as if he wanted to argue, maybe to insist that his captivity was only temporary. But instead he said, “I don’t have a . . . you don’t have a Torian word for it, then? A ‘wife’? I don’t have one.”
“So . . . wait. If you only have sex with the one you’re married to, and you’ve never married . . .”
The other men around the campfire had faded out of the conversation at some point, but now their attention was back, and they were staring at Finnvid with wide eyes.
“Have you never had sex?” Xeno asked, the disbelief clear in his tone.
“That’s private,” Finnvid replied. He sounded prim and disapproving, but Theos could hear the insecurity beneath it and decided to take pity on him with a less personal line of questioning.
“So, when Elkati are married,” he said, “do you onlyspeakto each other, as well? Onlylookat each other? If one of you is away on a campaign, the other one . . . just . . . doesn’t have sex? At all?”
“Torian men spend most of the summer away from home,” Finnvid countered. “So it’s the same problem, isn’t it? Your women can’t have sex whenyou’renot around.”
Theos looked at him blankly, then turned toward his fellow Sacrati, hoping one of them could interpret the Elkati’s words. Receiving no help, he said slowly, “They have sex witheach other. They don’t needusfor sex, any more than we need them. That’s . . .” He was still searching for some different meaning in the boy’s words. Finnvid was supposed to be a healer, so surely he’d understand these things? “You need a man and a woman forbabies,” Theos explained. “That’s all.”
“But . . .” Even in the firelight the boy’s blush was clear to see. Theos wondered if the skin would feel as hot as it appeared. “Yes, thank you,” Finnvid managed to say. “I know about babies. But . . . it doesn’thaveto be just for babies. You can sleep with women for, you know, for pleasure. Companionship. All of that. Aswellas babies.”
Theos was having to rethink his assessment of the Elkati. How could someone so clever about some things be so clueless about others?
“The women livein the city.” He felt like he was speaking more slowly with every sentence. “Wecouldsleep with them for pleasure, but they’re far away. And it’d be a nuisance to have to get approval from the temple every time.”
It was ridiculous thatFinnvidcould be confused by this conversation, but that was the only interpretation of the expression on the boy’s face. “The temple? Why is the temple involved?”
“To make sure it’s an approved mating. Not too closely related, not too many kids with the same blood being produced—”
“You’ve fatheredforty-sixchildren in nine years and you’re worried about too many children with the same blood?”
“I’mnot worried. The temple is. That’s why they won’t approve me for more than five or six extra partners a year, outside of the festivals.”
“Otherwise every baby in the city would be his,” Andros said with a grin.
“You’re just as popular,” Theos retorted. “We’d have made a lot of women unhappy if we’d left you up on the mountain with the snakes.”
It would have been easier to let the conversation drift back in that familiar direction. But Finnvid clearly didn’t want to move on. “But if you’re sleeping with all these women . . . there must be an imbalance. There must be some men whocan’tsleep with a woman, because you’ve taken them all. That’s not fair.”
“Fair? Women aren’t kegs of ale; they aren’t to be divided up equally for the enjoyment of all the drinkers. If Andros and I have more children, that’s because the womenwantto have our babies. It’s their choice. Nothing to do with being fair to men.”
“That’s easy for you to say, when you’re the one with all the women! What about the men who are alone?”
“Alone? Being invited to the city . . . that’s . . . well, counting the festivals, it’s maybe ten nights a year, at the most. Being with women isn’t going to keep anyone from beingalone.” Theos nodded at Andros and Xeno, reclining together with their legs entwined. “Yourfriendskeep you from being alone. Not women.”
