Shadows of the Spotted Swordsman - Chapter 2, The Dance of the Night (Zayn) (Patreon)

I'm finally back working on the novel again.

The words Fadel are saying are falling on ears that do not wish to process them. I am too focused on what I am about to do, going over the routine in my mind, to take note of anything he says about us. Only the gentle applause of the audience brings my attention back to the here and now—it is time for us to begin.

I am standing facing away from the audience. Unlike when I danced in Zaptu, these are my people, all of them. Also, many of them have seen me dance before, but this is the first time that Khalil and I have ever performed together. We created this routine to blend our skills and strengths. The song is well known, but slower than many of the songs I’ve danced to. We wanted that because it will give us time to execute the intricate motions and footwork we’ve carefully planned out. Both of us are shirtless, but we’re wearing loose pants held up by thick-knotted belts.

Slowly I pull the sword from the scabbard while Khalil bows to the audience. Fadel approaches me and I hold the scabbard out. The fennec takes it and moves to the side of the stage to watch us, and I take up my position behind Khalil, our backs touching, the blade held low in front of me. His tail twitches against mine, betraying his nervousness.

I take a deep breath and wait. All is quiet and then I hear the first trill of the zills in the leopard’s paws, even before the first notes of the ney or the drums. I can feel Khalil shift away from me, stepping forward slightly, his arms beginning to sway. I gently arc the tip of the blade up to my right, and then I shift as the blade reaches its apex, stepping toward the audience as I lower it behind Khalil.

The leopard moves in front of me as I move in the opposite direction, our bodies crossing, and then he steps back to rotate behind me, as I step in front, swinging the sword up and then catching the dull edge as I rotate behind Khalil and he steps around me to be the one in front.

Our movements intertwine, our rhythm growing faster, the dance moving from a tight intimacy to a flowing river of motion. Each cross of our bodies as we change position, first from front to back and then side to side, represents two souls in their journey through life. My sword flashes above me, and before me, but always with Khalil to the side or behind me. Our footpaws work in unison, our steps carefully planned out. While the blade is dull, I could still injure the leopard if I struck him with it, so it is important we stay in sync.

As the dance crescendoes, I step forward and repeat the motion I started with the sword in wide arcs left and right and then spin to the back of the stage as Khalil slides forward, hands flying, the zills in his handpaws trilling, before we finally slide back to our starting positions, but this time with me facing the audience, our backs once again pressed against each other.

I’m panting so hard when I’m done I almost don’t hear the applause at first, even though I can see people rising to their footpaws, including Naji. Khalil, whose back is pressed to mine, also sounds winded. “They played that ending a little faster than I thought they would,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” I say as we separate. “They loved it.”

He glances at me, giving an appreciative nod, before he steps up and bows eloquently. I really admire his form. Khalil was taught how to do this, and it shows in his movements—I instead learned by observing others. It’s not that I didn’t get a few lessons back in Zaptu, but always it was toward showing myself off. The goal was to be desirable to the men before me who might be willing to part with their coin for my attentions.

Dancing with Khalil this last month, trying to perfect this routine, I’ve learned just how much I still have to learn. I’ve realized how much better I could be, and how I no longer need to play the audience’s base desires. It’s given me the freedom to expand my repertoire.

“Zayn?” The leopard has turned back to me, and I step up. I take his handpaw in my own, and he lifts it up. I bow, and I can see the eyes upon me. I’m still just an object of desire, but there is only one set of eyes that I care about now—Naji’s. He seems impressed with what we just did and so do many in the audience.

“That,” says Fadel, “was amazing. If you keep this up, I’m going to have to compete with the acrobat troupes who visit the Grand Market for your time.”

I chuckle, but I doubt that. I’ve seen some of them, and they’re really good. Some even perform for the sultan themself.

“Us?” says Khalil with a bemused laugh, as we move to the side of the stage. The musicians to the side of the stage strike up a song to keep the audience entertained as we leave. “Doubtful. Zayn maybe, but not me. You know I got kicked out of one of those.”

“There are others,” says Fadel.

“There are, but I much more prefer an audience that appreciates my tastes.”

“You’re really good, Khalil,” I say. “You’re nimbler on your footpaws than I am.”

He chuckles at that. “Your pawpads weren’t bothering you tonight, were they?”

I shake my head, remembering how I burned them a little over two months ago. “No, they’re fine.”

The leopard gives me a slightly concerned look, and I feel my ears flick back. I’ve had to lie about that before, but they really are finally healed. Naji has been insistent to make sure I let them properly heal after he found me tracking bloody pawprints through his apartment after practicing a routine shortly after I burned them. I had to spend two weeks sitting on the divan in his apartment with bandages wrapped around my paws before he’d let me dance again.

“Seriously, I’m okay,” I add, seeing the hyena is now making his way toward the stage.

Khalil notices him too. “You don’t want to spend two more weeks on the divan with him waiting on you?” he asks me as Fadel steps away to collect tips for us.

“Absolutely not.” That might be tempting to some people, but I find it frustrating. It reminds me of my fragility, and I try not to think about all the scars I’ve already acquired in life. It’s easier for me if I don’t.

“Just because you couldn’t stand doesn’t mean you can’t be on your back during the two weeks.” The leopard chuckles.

I scowl at Khalil, who beams back at me. That also is very true, but not something I want to discuss with him.

“That came out great,” says Naji once he’s close enough to not shout at us.

“Thank you,” says Khalil. “I have a few ideas for tweaks, but I’m very pleased with how it went.”

“He’s just a perfectionist,” I remark.

The leopard places a handpaw on his bare chest. “You wound me with the truth.”

Naji just chuckles. “I think it was excellent, and you both danced really well.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate your eye for my craft and every else about me.”

Naji smiles at that as Fadel comes back over to us. “It looks like they liked that,” he says, shaking a bowl with a number of coins. “I’ll count it out and divide it up for you two.”

I glance, and it does look like the tips are generous tonight. I can feel my tail wag. “We’ll have to do it again.”

“Of course. You two go get yourselves cleaned up,” he says as the four of us begin to walk to the side door that leads off the stage.

Khalil stretches. “I hope Ales is still in the hammam.”

Indeed, being the red fox masseur’s paws would feel good right now, but I have other needs on my mind. “Tell him to make sure they keep the water hot. I have something to do first,” I say, linking my arm with Naji. “Is the room we usually use occupied?” Naji’s ears go up.

Khalil tongue darts out in an amused gesture.

“No…” says Fadel. “I take it you would like to rent it for the night.”

“Yes, please.” I often am horny after I dance for an audience, because I spent three years working as a whore.

“Zayn,” says Naji, “are you sure?” Naji I’m sure has already figured out I have that routine, but I appreciate that he asks.

Fadel gives me a knowing look, since I already arranged this with him, but he keeps silent. “Yes. Come, let’s get the key from the front desk.” I lead the hyena off then, leaving Khalil and Fadel to head to the dressing room.

#

Naji doesn’t say anything until the door closes behind us and we’re truly alone.

“I can tell that took a lot out of you. You were breathing hard near the end.”

I turn toward him. “And?”

“I’m not a client of yours back in Zaptu. We don’t have to do this right now.”

 “It’s not just that.”

“No?” he says, going to sit down on the bed. The only light in here is from a single lantern. “Do you not want to go home.”

“Not tonight. I don’t want to leave the Blue Door.”

He tilts his head. “You’re worried about what awaits us on the street outside?”

“I’m concerned. The last time you went to Naima about a job, you went missing. That’s why we’re in this mess.”

He looks down at his handpaws. “That was because of Rigel. I don’t even know if he’s alive anymore.”

“I know. I was there. It’s just…” I sigh. “I’m scared. I’m scared of Yasar, I’m scared of the Takula, I’m simply scared of what might happen. I don’t want to lose you, Naji.”

“You think my past will find me?”

“Not just your past, it’s our past now. These last few months have been the best months of my life. I’ve never felt so happy before. To have someone come in and threaten all of it, to threaten us…” My voice cracks a little. “That hurts.”

He’s silent for a little bit. “I’ve run away in a situation like this once before. Back across the Crimson Sea, during the war, I survived that ambush because I ran away. I could have stayed, maybe even fought back, but I didn’t.”

That’s not the direction I expected him to take this. “Almost everyone died you said.”

“Yes, but I didn’t go home. I didn’t stay to help survivors. I didn’t try to return home. Instead, I just ran.”

“You were still a kid, bound to a war created by an emir who thought he could take what belonged to others.”

“I know, but I don’t know if I could ever go home, not as myself anymore. If people found out who I was, they’d shun me probably.”

I growl. “This is why I hate powerful people who think the rest of us are to be used for their own gains and then thrown away when they’re done with us. You can’t blame yourself.”

He looks away. “I don’t, but there’s always that little doubt in the back of my mind. Just like you can’t forget what happened to Aziz, I cannot forget what happened back in that camp. You didn’t run away. I did.”

That does hit me in the gut, and I come over and sit down next to him. I take one of his paws in mine. “If you had died back in that war, or even if you had stayed, I’d have never met you. You’d never have saved me from Sarda.”

“You could have done it yourself.”

“Maybe, but would I have? I had nowhere to go. I don’t blame Usman for what happened, but he didn’t have space for another hungry mouth at this table.”

“Based on what you’ve told me, I think he would have taken you in. He treated you like a son.”

I think back to the cheetah. He and Khalil are so similar and yet so different in how their lives started. One danced to escape his life, the other danced to build his life. “Yeah, but I never wanted to be a burden.”

“That I do understand. I only wasn’t a burden because my family bargained me into the military.”

“Have you thought of writing them a letter?”

He shakes his head. “I’d need to know a merchant going all the way down there to the land of the acacia trees. Even if I did, it could take months for a response that might never come. Usman got back to you within weeks.”

“Zaptu is much closer.” I sigh and lean against his shoulder. “Look at us, two scared individuals running from our pasts.”

“If it’s okay with you, I’m not running anymore. I want to put this all behind me.”

I laugh. “Of course.”

“You’re too kind to me,” he says softly.

“Hush,” I say. I slide a handpaw across his back, ruffling the fur gently. “I know you are feeling tense, I can help you relax.”

“I know what that means.”

I smile, falling into old habits I can’t quite shake. “Well,” I say, tracing a handpaw over his shoulder and across his chest as I pull him close to me. “I did insist we get a room. Are you telling me no?” I lean close so I can whisper in his ear. “You wouldn’t tell me no, would you?”

I feel his handpaw rest on me. “I would tell you that I’m not a customer. It’s already been an eventful day.”

Ah, the reality of living. Naji is always practical, but as I study him in the dim light, I can see the quirk of his muzzle. “You’re making me work for this tonight.”

“If I am too easy, you might get bored with me.”

I scoff. “As if I could.”

“I’m working to become boring. As a sellsword, that’s how you grow old.”

“And I’m working to become fat and well fed. That’s what a whore wants when they grow old.”

“Gray, fat, and happy—that sounds nice,” he murmurs, amused by the thought.

I lean forward to nose the side of his muzzle. “We’ve got a number of years yet before we get there, but together, we can get there. You’ll look handsome with a muzzle full of gray fur.”

“Am I not handsome now?” he asks me. “Surely the black fur on my muzzle is also attractive.”

“It is, but think about how nice it will be to be old,” I say wrapping my arms around him.

His ears flick back. “I haven’t really thought I’d get there, not until recently. There were parts of my life where I didn’t think beyond tomorrow.”

Since I’ve got my arms wrapped around him, I shift over so I’m sitting on his lap and he’s forced to lean back so I don’t fall off the edge of the bed. “Same, but now we have a future.”

“I seem to have a bigger problem in my lap right now.”

“Am I really a problem though?” I ask, getting close to his muzzle.

“Yes…but not one I can’t handle,” he says, bouncing me gently.

“Handle me how?” I chuckle, amused by the suggestion.

I know he’s strong, but he’s quicker than I expect, he shifts his weight suddenly and twists, and suddenly I am lying on the bed with my legs draping off the side and him on top of me.

“And here I thought you might not be interested.”

He smirks, tongue curling out of his muzzle before he speaks. “You have a way of getting me going.”

That comes from years of my work as a prostitute, but this is different. This is more natural, not forced. I don’t set myself aside to make sure Naji is happy. Tonight both of us will be happy. “Old habits die hard, although”—I trace a handpaw across his shirt, toward his pants—“it’s not just me.”

He leans down to sniff around my neck, and that makes me squirm. His muzzle is broad, unlike my more pointed one, and I can feel his breath against my fur. In this position I feel helpless in his grasp. That both scares me and excites me. I have been helpless before and hated it, but not with Naji. He doesn’t ask permission, because I have already given it. The way my breath hitches, the way I squirm against him, he already knows what I want, without me having to vocalize it.

Naji grows more insistent as he sniffs around my neck, and I know why. “What perfume are you wearing?” he asks finally. “I recognize sage, but it’s mixed with something else. I don’t know the scent.”

“You don’t recognize it?” I ask teasingly. I suspected he wouldn’t know this one.

He sniffs at me again. “No…”

“It’s made with pine resin. It comes from the north. I got it in the bazaar last week.”

“Oh, it’s from a tree.” He leans down to sniff around my neck and makes a show of carefully sniffing around my chest. “I like it.”

I know the scent of exertion still clings to me, but that makes me wag. “You don’t get me at my most presentable moments.”

“I didn’t smoke tonight, but I’m sure I still smell like hookah smoke,” he remarks.

I lick my lips. “I can still smell you,” I whisper, “and your musk has become sharper.”

He smirks, and I take this chance to seize the imitative, leaning up for a quick nose lick while I let my paws explore his body. Naji gives off a pleased rumble, but I’ve already got my hands on his flanks, gently tracing his side. While doing this, I get my hand under his shirt. I feel the jagged scar under his fur, much more pronounced than the finer scars hidden beneath the fur on my back.

But now is not the time for thinking of the struggles of our lives...

“Did you get any oil?” I ask.

Naji chuckles and produces a clay glass bottle with a cork top from under his shirt. “Of course.”

“Good,” I say, tail wagging. “Now lie back and let me do this.”

He gives me a coy look and pushes himself closer. “Not this time,” he says as I feel his handpaw start to explore the hem of my dancing outfit. I only have pants on.

As he leans down to kiss me, I feel the knot of my belt being undone. When we break off, I speak up. “You have to at least let me get my pants off,” I whisper into his ear.

He chuckles but pulls back. I go to lift my hips up, and with a smooth motion, he pulls them down, carefully not to yank my tail too hard through the tail hole in the back. He removes the knotted cord around his own waist and lets his pants fall to the ground.

He doesn’t take off his shirt though, because he’s eager to move things along. As soon as he kicks himself free from his clothes, he’s back cradling me, pulling me toward him. I can feel him brushing against my sensitive insides, and then a slickened digit probing me.

I close my eyes and let go. My mind quiets, and I don’t think of what is to come tomorrow, just what is to come right now. And come it does, because one digit is quickly replaced by two, while others wrap themselves around my already tight sheath, and coax out the shaft within.

I expect him to push ahead, but I feel hot breath against my exposed shaft, and then warmth engulfing it. I crack my eyes and see the hyena is gently bobbing on it.

“You don’t—”

“Shufft up,” he mumbles around my cock.

I give a soft huff, and lie back, not mad at him, but still surprised that he takes his time like this. Slowly, he alternates between licking and sucking, and I feel my body start to float away. I really need to forget my old habits and enjoy this, and oh…

“Eep,” I gasp as four clawed digits suddenly slide into me. There’s a muffled laugh and a long lick up my shaft before a gentle kiss is planted on the tip and he gets back up.

Gently, the intruding digits are removed from my insides. Then a slick shaft is placed against my rear.

“Go on,” I pant, and no sooner have I gotten the words out of muzzle than he spears me through with his shaft.

I yelp happily and he grunts. Then he pulls back and pushes himself in. He begins to work up a pace, thrusting in and out of me. Now Naji’s gentle ministrations are replaced with insistence and need, which is what I want. I don’t want him to take it slow.

Stroke by stroke, the tension builds, and a paw returns to my shaft, now oil-slickened and grasping. My body betrays all restraint, for I already feel pressure building inside, crying out for release.

Naji’s strokes of my shaft are a bit sloppy, but that’s only because his thrusts are bouncing himself against my ass with wild abandon.

And then I feel myself release without him even having finished yet. I catch my breath. A whore doesn’t cum first, and yet he’s still thrusting, and even though my eyes are lidded, I can tell he’s grinning at me. Finally, he lets go of my shaft and both hands grip my legs.

He pushes on, as my body twitches, clamping down against him. He hitches my ass up, so he can get more leverage as I lie helpless before him, happy and spent. It only takes a few more thrusts before I feel his body stiffen, and his cock comes to rest buried inside of me, his own needs now satisfied, my insides now sticky.

I pant, and he looms over me spent.

“You okay?” he asks, after he catches his breath.

“Yeah,” I say.

We both are now really sticky and sweaty, but I feel like I’m in heaven. Naji gently tugs himself free of me. That’s one thing he can do that I can’t; he doesn’t have a knot that needs to soften first before he can pull out.

“We should clean up,” he suggests, “before they close the hammam for the night.”

“Come, lie with me,” I say, rolling over onto my side. “I asked Fadel to keep it open an extra hour tonight.”

“Did you now?” he says, coyly smiling as he gets on the bed with me, careful not to drip onto the sheets below us, even though I’m sure we’ve already splashed it somewhere with our emissions.

I grin, letting my tongue roll out. “Khalil and I both worked really hard on that dance, and we deserved to be rewarded, although I don’t know how he plans to get his reward tonight.”

“He seems to have his own admirers.” Naji leans forward and licks my nose before we gently lock muzzles. When he breaks off, Naji gives me a grin. “I don’t know if I say it enough, but I love you, Zayn.”

I make a dramatic show of flicking my ears back and frowning at him. “You say it so much, I worry I might get tired of hearing it, but I don’t. Still, I don’t deserve it.”

“Every one deserves to be loved.”

My ears feel hot now. “Shh…you’re making me feel flush.”

“It’s true,” he whispers.

The corner of my muzzle curls up. “I know. I didn’t believe that three months ago, but I do now.”

Naji doesn’t say anything else and just wraps himself around me, pulling me close to himself. I feel my eyes misting as I return his embrace. “I love you too,” I whisper into one of his ears.

#

True to his word, Fadel has not closed the hammam for the night by the time we go downstairs half an hour later. The fires that keep the water hot are still lit. We aren’t the only customers appreciating that either.

The warmth of the hammam is stifling and yet, as I pant in the hot room, it’s somehow refreshing. The first time I came, I could barely stand in here. Now, I rather enjoy the hot room, and I feel so many of my problems burn away in here. I never knew what I was missing back in Zaptu. I think I’ve had more baths in the last three months than I had for the entire twenty-one years I lived there. It’s amazing what a difference a city with a steady supply of water makes.

“Do you think a qanat could be dug in Zaptu?”

Naji considers. “I don’t know. It depends how much rain reaches the other side of the mountains.”

I lay back against the hot stone wall. “I wish the people back home could enjoy this like I do. Back home, the hamman was just a tub, and you had to hope that the water was fresh.”

“Fadel is very lucky he was able to get this hammam. I believe it needed some serious repair when he did acquire it and attached it to the Blue Door.”

“How could anyone let a place like this fall apart?”

Naji shrugs. “The owner could have passed away, or maybe they fell on hard times.”

I pant. “It seems strange. I could almost live in here.”

Naji gets up and wraps his towel around himself. “Come on, you’ll stay in here till you pass out if I let you.”

My ears flick. “I would not.”

“Yes, you would. You’re kind of obsessed with the hamman. The same with the river.”

I get up and wrap my towel around myself. My fur is completely matted from all the steam and water in the air. “I wouldn’t call it obsessive now.”

Naji pads out of the room. “I realize you didn’t grow up around water, so it’s fascinating. However, even with the oils, your fur will get dull if you wash it every day.”

“I barely could afford to bathe more than once a month back home,” I say, starting to lather up my fur. “Zaptu only has two wells.”

“That’s not much, even for a small village like that.”

“We made do,” I say, working the soap into my tail, “but I’m spoiled being in the city now. I hope we never leave Aksu.”

Naji chuckles. “So you never want to see the sea?”

I freeze, holding my tail in my claws. It’s like the desert but all the sand is water. It boggles my mind. “I…I would like to see the sea.”

“Someday,” he says.

“We can leave tomorrow,” I offer, going back to lathering my tail.

Naji laughs. “I’m not sure Yasar will be pleased.”

I shrug and reach for one of the metal bowls so I can fill it with water. “We could disappear.”

“We could,” says Naji, “but you do want to come back to the Blue Door, don’t you?”

I make an exaggerated motion of protectively clutching the metal bowl I’m about to fill with water to rinse with. “I do…”

“Then I need to find this Takula. Afterward we can go visit the sea.”

I laugh. “You know I’m not that serious.”

“But you still want to see it.”

I don’t justify that with a response, and instead I just start washing off. I do catch my tail wagging, which I’m sure Naji notices.

Once we’ve rinsed off, we go see Ales. The red fox is rough as always with his massage, and after dancing and sex with Naji, I’m feeling it. We’re also the last people he attends to before he heads home for the night, so I hear again the story of how I’m pushing myself too hard and to not let Fadel overwork me as the fox proceeds to yank my arm and legs around to loosen the muscles. Ales leaves me sore, but strangely relaxed as usual.

Afterward, I’m limping a little as we head to the cold room, and that immediately catches Naji’s attention. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I yawn. “It’s been a long day. I just need some rest.”

“Come on, we can get some sleep after we dry off. I’ll brush you in the morning.”

“Oh, I’m not so tired I can’t sit still now,” I say, laughing.

He smiles and we proceed over to the cold room. First, we take a quick dip in the pool to cool off and then towel off. Neither of our pelts are thick, but it still takes a bit of time to get dry enough to sit for a brushing. I go first and the attendant brushes me carefully, using an oil to give my coat luster. I can feel myself relax, and I want to drift off to sleep. It’s so calming I almost do before he’s done. Reluctantly, I get up when it’s over and Naji sits down and the attendant begins to brush him. While he does, I watch some of the other people in the room talking and laughing. The atmosphere is calm and relaxed.

“You ready to get some sleep now?”

I turn back to Naji, realizing I had started to doze standing on my feet “All done?”

He nods. “Come on.”

We return for our clothes and dress. I brought a clean shirt and pants for after dancing, but Naji puts back on what he had on. As we leave the hammam, I lean in close.

“How about we take a little detour?”

“He glances back to toward the main hall. Music is coming out of it. “You want some wine before bed?”

I shake my head, proceeding toward the stairs. “Let’s go up on the roof.”

“If you’d like, but it’s dark up there.”

I smile, the lantern light of the courtyard leaving my muzzle in shadow. “I know.”

He gives me a confused look, his eyes flashing as they catch light in the dim courtyard, but he doesn’t object as he leads us up the stairs to the second story and over to the ladder to the roof. Carefully we climb and emerge onto the roof of the Blue Door.

It seems deserted, which is what I kind of expected. Light from the courtyard in the center of the building filters up here, but even with so many people living in it, Aksu is dark at night. A few distant lanterns and candles appear on distant roof tops or creeps around shuttered windows, but little light filters up from the streets. Above us, the stars glint in the dark.

Naji pauses, not sure what I’m planning, but I lead him over to where we were sitting earlier. I sit down on the carpet, and he joins me.

“You know,” I say, looking up at the sky, “it’s the same stars up there as back home. These last few months, I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Did you think they’d be different?”

“No, but Aksu is a big city. It felt like it might be. That somehow the sky would be different.”

“I think the stars are a little brighter in the desert, but you can still see them all here.”

I point up to the thick arc of faint white that cuts across the night sky. “My mother used to say that came from a jackal who dragged his tail in the sand of the sky.”

“Really? Back home, they called it the silver river. I’ve heard others say it’s straw that fell of a merchant’s cart.”

“If all that’s straw, it must have been a really big cart for them to lose so much of it,” I remark. “You’d think the merchant would have noticed.”

“You would. Maybe someday they’ll come back for it.”

I intertwine my hand paws with Naji. “I hope they don’t.”

He nuzzles close to me. “Same. It’s beautiful where it is.”

Gently I lick the side of his muzzle, and he sighs happily. There are no words I can say right now I haven’t already said tonight, so together we sit on the roof, watching the stars twinkle until I start to doze off. It’s then that Naji insists we return to the room to sleep in the bed we asked for, and I don’t disagree with that plan.