Buxom Harlots

-Emilio-

Markos glanced over his shoulder, his visor lifted up so he could have his full field of vision to navigate through the crowd. "It has."

Emilio urged Bolstead to close the distance between them so they were alongside Markos and his horse, Arashi. "Imelda writes me incessantly asking about how you and Jo are getting along. She said you stopped writing her back."

Markos's attention swept the crowd, settling on the loudly proselytizing street preacher. "I didn't mean to hurt her feelings." His posture relaxed as some of the hardness eased from his voice. "I've been keeping track of her progress. Imelda has grown into a fine knight fit to be wed to the crown prince. I'm sorry that I missed her knighting ceremony."

Emilio watched Markos, side-eying the preacher. It was not a templar's duty to correct or stop lay clergy that sought to shout to the masses in the muddy street. He found their presence an annoyance. "I still don't care for the prince but father is set on this alliance. I don't want Imelda pushed into the race for making the next heir to the throne."

"Praise be to Saule! Her blessed continence welcomes all into her bosom for warmth and comfort!" The preacher droned above the din of the crowd. "Ah! Look all ye upon the gallant Knights Templar of the Order of the Hy Sword! Their armor gleaming though battered, their souls pure though wary of a life of hardship in the face of horrendous evil!"

Markos glowered at the preacher.

Emilio leaned towards Markos and pointed towards the preacher. "Get a load of that guy. What a nutter."

The preacher perked when he noticed the templars turn their attention towards him. "Oh the radiant virtue of the Holy Order!" His sermon gained more fervor and movements more animated. "Blessings upon the might sword of Teiwaz's will! Give strength to the throbbing organ of Teiwaz's power that resists the darkest temptations laid within buxom harlots!"

Emilio stifled a laugh at the preacher. It was just too over the top. "What throbbing organ do you think he's talking about?"

Markos cracked a small smile. "Probably his own, we are passing by a fine brothel of the most buxom harlots silver can buy." He shook his head, urging Arashi to go faster with a squeeze of his legs and a click of his tongue.

Emilio did the same as they trotted past the preacher and out of town. They'd lowered their visors and rode for a time in silence, letting the breeze roll over them and the forest thicken around them. 'We used to talk all the time. Has it been really that long?'

"What did you want to ask? You still do that thing you used to when we were kids," Markos abruptly asked as they rode alongside one another on the dirt road.

"I guess I didn't grow out of that habit," Emilio commented with a sheepish grin inside his helmet. "Is it true about you and Iliana?"

Markos scratched his horse's ears as he rode in thoughtful silence. His answer was slow and calm. "If you mean if we were involved, yes."

Emilio's fingers drummed against his gauntlets wrist. He remembered how beautiful the ember was that night at the castle. Imelda swore that one day she'd be that pretty. Jo was incredibly jealous of the way Iliana looked at "her" Markos during the feast, or at least that's what Jo complained about in the months that followed. "How did you... I mean, you are still alive. How did you manage it?"

Markos shifted on his saddle. "It's complicated but there is a trick to it. Why do you ask?"

Emilio thought of the elf and the way she stole his first kiss. Sintija occupied a place in his thoughts after he woke from being buried for half a day until the Whisperers pulled him out. It was a sore spot that reminded him that he needed to be wary of such earthly temptations no matter how lovely they might be. "I just have never heard of it happening. Two templars competing for the affection of the same ember, a Helka no less!"

"Just because you have not witnessed a thing does not mean it does not exist or happen," Markos replied with a shake of his head. "It's complicated but we weren't in competition."

"What do you mean?" Emilio turned towards Markos, peering through the eye slits in his helmet.

"We were just...." Markos's voice trailed off as it took a softer tone that reminded Emilio of when his father spoke of his late mother. "A family but that's not the right term. We were happy together... I would rather not discuss them before the cave. I want to focus on the task at hand."

"That's an odd way to put it," Emilio considered the possibilities. Two men and one woman, did Markos mean that all three of them shared a bed? He stared at Markos with new eyes. It was scandalous. ".... Ah! Never mind! You're a noble now, you shouldn't be doing such.... lewd things. Surely there are more women to fancy rather than just Iliana? Why share her?"

Markos rode in silence and shook his head. "Like I said, it's complicated." He shrugged. "You really think nobles are all prim and proper like your dad? I thought you got out of the temple more regularly than that."

Emilio thought of his father at his desk for most of his day when he was not out in the training field working on his marksmanship and swordsmanship. 'What does father do for fun? Dis he ever reconsider marrying after mother died?' He remembered a heated argument between General Arand and his grandmother after Markos left with Caelyn.

'Do not do this to Imelda!' Dame de Castellio - Arand screamed, her face red and her hands balled into fists. Her gown a rich green of their household and her raven hair pinned back in elaborate braids. 'She is not a brood mare to studded!'

'You know that has no bearing to me on this arranged marriage.' General Arand was stone faced, his voice never raised above a normal conversational tone.

'They are seeking the next heir to the throne!' Dame Arand growled. 'Why else rush to marry off those that have not yet reached adulthood? Do you not think it strange that no new heir has been born yet this generation? Never has it taken this long for one to be located!'

Emilio looked over to Markos again. "No. They are seeking to make the next heir to the throne... if they can birth a child that bears the mark then they have a clear path to the throne."

Markos leaned back to look at Emilio, with his face covered it was impossible to discern the man's expression. "Why do you think one hasn't appeared yet with all the noble houses breeding like rabbits?"