Chapter 24: Lamb for the Lion

 

Kaveh was so irritated he nearly picked up a nearby pot of herbs to throw at the poor animal sitting innocently in the flowerbed beneath his window. But before he could move his hand, he remembered everything his new friends had told him about Mother Cat. “Are you--?”

The cat stood up and began to walk away.

Kaveh still couldn’t tell if it was responding to his question or merely startled by his voice. He stood there halfway hanging out the window, peering at the creature.

It halted its departure and turned around to stare at him.

“I must be mad,” he muttered to himself as he climbed out the window and dropped down into the well-tilled dirt.

Silently he followed the cat through narrow, moonlit alleyways. He could hear faint sounds of joy in the distance, where some of the evening’s revelry still continued on the bigger streets closer to the river. Every once in a while he sensed other people and hid in the shadows until he could be certain to pass unseen, and each time he paused, the cat waited patiently.

He was certain now that she was Mother Cat -- some name like Eshvat? -- because, despite the circuitous path they took through the most tiny and winding of roads, he could tell they were approaching the restaurant. Sure enough, they popped out through a small passageway, barely big enough for a grown man, and emerged into the street across from Mother Cat’s.

The doorway was open, and the cat ran inside. Kaveh followed her.

Dim light from a few lamps lit the room, full of tables in front and the open kitchen in the back, but empty of patrons. Kaveh peered around anxiously. Was he here? “Farzin!” he tried to say, but his throat was dry and his voice nervous, so it came out as a faint bleat.

Then he noticed the red curtains that covered the doorway to the tea room, where low tables were ringed by cushions instead of chairs. He and Farzin had sat here with some of Farzin’s workers in days past, draining pots of tea and relaxing after a day of work on the construction project. It was a familiar room, but in this night of uncertainty, everything was ghostly and contained the prospect of nightmares.

His trembling hand drew aside the curtain.

Stepping inside, he saw Farzin lying motionless before him on the far side of the room. His eyes were closed but his mouth hung open; his body lay twisted in an unnatural position as if he’d been flung against the deep-red cushions and forgotten. Farzin who he had loved, but not as he had known him -- a month of starvation and occasional abuse had left its mark in that gaunt face and on those bruised limbs.

Kaveh’s eyes flew shut after only a millisecond. He couldn’t stand it. Farzin might only be sleeping, but the prince couldn’t find within himself the courage to step forward and see for himself. What if he touched Farzin’s face and found it cold? If he stayed here in the doorway he left himself standing in the threshold of hope. One step forward might be the first into tragedy.

But whichever way their destinies flowed, let them flow in the same course, forever united.

“Farzin,” he gasped, his eyes still screwed shut, “if you’re alive-- if you’re alive, take me into your arms. If you’re--” He couldn’t say dead, not out loud. “--not, take me into your grave.”

And then arms encircled him and held him very tightly, and Kaveh nearly hyperventilated with relief. “My grave? Really?” asked a familiar jovial voice. “Because I was thinking bed.”

“You looked funny when you were asleep!” Kaveh protested, bowing his head to rest it against Farzin’s chest. He smelled of peasant soap and rosewater. The prince opened his eyes, and yes, Farzin was real, real and holding him, clasping him tightly. He could barely breathe, and yet he had never felt so comfortable in his entire life.

“I look funny when I’m awake,” Farzin reminded him.

“You’re alive... You’re alive...” It was a grateful prayer of thanks.

“All of me! And all of the workers have been paid too -- the full amount, this time.” There might be dark circles under those eyes, but they twinkled; there might be whip stains across his back, but it stood up proudly straight.

“What about you? Did you get paid?”

Farzin gazed down on him with caressing eyes. “I told you before, all I want is you. If we’ll really be together from now on -- if you’ll share happiness with me as we’ve already shared so much pain -- if you’ll let me kiss you awake in the morning and bore you to sleep at night babbling about projects... then, Kaveh, then my work will have been paid for, more than fairly. Generously. I love you.”

Kaveh vibrated with sheer joy. “Always. Always! Then it doesn’t worry you that we’re going to be brothers while we’re living that way?”

The engineer responded by kissing him. It was their first time their lips had touched in a month, and Kaveh threw himself into the kiss with energetic ardor. His body heated up as he swept his hands over Farzin’s back.

Then Farzin broke the kiss. “Eww! You kissed your brother!” He was even laughing at his own joke.

Kaveh chuckled. “You goof. Anyway, it’s not by blood.”

“It could have been, if my mother had been queen from the beginning.”

“I like it better this way.”

“Me too.”

“But why didn’t you tell us how to find your mother? We didn’t know about Jahandar, but still!”

“I tried to, a couple of times, but you were getting shot at, and Isaac ran off.” He was breathing heavily. “She didn’t know where I was because I knew she wouldn’t like me working for Jahandar. I thought she’d try to talk me out of it. I just wanted to tell her how great the whole thing had been when it was all over. I had no idea why she... why she...”

Kaveh felt the grip around him loosen, and he noticed his partner’s arms were trembling. “Farzin? Are you all right?”

Gasping, Farzin pulled away from him. “Yes, it’s-- I’m just worn out from being hungry. I’ve been a month without good sleep or good food.”

“Sit down!” Kaveh dragged him back to the cushions where he’d initially found him. “Have you eaten since they let you out?”

“It turns out my mother’s friends with Mother Cat from way back -- her name is Eshvat, by the way -- and she fed me before going to get you. They also cleaned me up a bit. I had a beard, and longer hair -- although, not as messy as yours!” He flashed Kaveh a goofy expression.

So that explained the rosewater. “But you’re still hungry.”

“I’m a growing boy.”

“Not lately.” Kaveh looked him over, forcing himself to see Farzin’s shockingly reduced weight for the first time. “But I’ll get you back to normal. Wait ‘til you see what I learned from the queen’s sweetheart -- and personal chef.”

A female voice at the doorway startled them both. “Feel free to use anything you want, but if you make a mess, either clean it up or pay for it.” They looked up toward the curtains and beheld Eshvat, Mother Cat, in her human form, all bosoms and kerchiefs as usual. “My magic’ll keep you safe within these walls until I get back. I’m going out looking for my own mess.”

And with a flourish of skirts, she had disappeared again.

“We’ve got the place to ourselves,” Farzin commented gleefully.

“I’m going to cook for you,” Kaveh informed him, pulling his shirt over his head. Farzin grinned at the sight of Kaveh’s lithe, muscled chest, and the prince beamed at the attention. He left the shirt on a table and drew back the curtains so Farzin would be able to watch him cooking in the other room.

Farzin leaned back against the cushions and admired the view. Kaveh bustled around the kitchen, aggregating rice and vegetables and some leftover meat he’d found together on the countertop. Now the rice was being heated in water, and with aggressive yet impeccably controlled motions, Kaveh diced carrots and leeks. He began to sweat in the heat of the kettle’s steam. “If you could see yourself right now, you’d be too distracted to cook,” commented Farzin, obviously enjoying himself.

Kaveh instinctively looked down, and grinned when he realized his lean, toned chest was shining in the lamplight. “Maybe it’s your appetizer.”

“Maybe I want seconds already.” Farzin rested his head against a nearby pillow and kept watching as Kaveh kept working. He looked for a moment as though he might fall asleep again.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Kaveh saw Farzin stand again. He walked over to the kitchen and slipped behind his partner. Kaveh was concentrating on pulling apart pieces of leftover meat so it would fit into the pot and had assumed Farzin was getting up to get a drink of water or some other mundane errand; he therefore felt a lightning current of surprised arousal as instead Farzin’s hands appeared on both sides of his bare waist, Farzin’s body very close behind him, pressing into him. He gasped and dropped the lamb shank back into the dish, splattering the juice slightly.

“I can’t help it,” Farzin murmured into the ear he was now nibbling. “You look like a statue come to life.”

“You have to eat or you’ll pass out on me if we start-- if we--” Oh, how could Kaveh even remember how to speak with Farzin grinding into him like that! And with those demanding hands now owning his nipples. Aviva told him not to handle knives while distracted. Well, he was done with knife work. The vegetables and rice were simmering in the pot. “I’m almost done. I just have--”

“You just have to add the meat, right?” Farzin grinned wickedly.

Kaveh blushed at the innuendo. Quickly sliding the rest of the lamb into the pot, he succumbed to Farzin’s firm grip and let himself be spun around so his back was to the counter. Farzin claimed his mouth with a heavy, almost magnetic kiss and then brought his mouth lower to lick his nipples. Kaveh leaned back against the counter, seeing stars.

But Farzin soon paused in his embrace and leaned over, panting and wobbly. Kaveh held him for a moment so he didn’t collapse. He helped him back to the cushions in the other room and returned to seasoning the meal, his body tingling. When everything was ready, Kaveh scooped it into a bowl and carried it into the other room, where he found Farzin fast asleep.

This time, he didn’t close his eyes or say anything about death. He simply sat down beside him and put his hand on the exhausted man’s cheek.

Farzin’s eyes fluttered open, and he smiled. “Some beautiful bare-chested god is bending over me holding a bowl of... Wow, that smells amazing! -- and that he made himself, by the labors of his own hands. Maybe I did die.”

“I’m going to fatten you up again,” said Kaveh matter-of-factly, “and then I’m going to make love to you.”

“I can multitask,” said Farzin sleepily, reaching for Kaveh with one hand and the lamb curry with the other.