Honsvang, Province of Baya, 22 Sha'ban, 1536 AH


(18 June, 2112)

"Really, Abdul Rahman," Rustam said, "this is just too much. Sure, it's beautiful but when I think of the cost—"


"Oh, be still," the senior janissary trainer said. "The boys have done well. They deserve this bounty. Soon enough they'll be going off to different schools . . . or to face the infidels across the English Channel, or the Russian border or the Balkan Front. There'll be little enough beauty there. Let them enjoy."


"But the expense . . . "


"Twenty score gold dinar for three days of carousing? Seems fair to me."


"But . . . "


"You didn't bitch when Captain Masood brought you and your mates here, Rustam."


The junior sniffed. "That was different."


Abdul Rahman laughed aloud, the sound echoing off the rocky steeps surrounding. "Oh, yes, of course. Then it was your dick getting wet. I see it all clearly now. That makes all the difference in the world. You are absolutely right, Rustam. Go fetch the busses. We're heading back to the barracks . . . "


"Well . . . let's not be hasty," Rustam said, setting his face and his feet upon the steep upward path.


"Quick, boys," Müller said. "Paradise is on the top of this hill."


"Or if not Paradise," answered another, "a reasonably close facsimile. I hear the houris up there put those of Heaven to shame."


"I doubt that," Hans said, even while thinking, I doubt there are any houris at all in the real Heaven.


Even so, Hans trudged up with his pack—light marching order only—on his back. He made an effort to seem as enthusiastic about losing his virginity as any of the rest of the boys. Indeed, he seemed quite a bit more enthusiastic than some. Those? Well, put any couple of hundred young boys together and some of them are going to discover that they prefer the company, in all senses, of boys. Still, even those five or six put on a fair show of interest.


The janissaries made rather less of such things than the Caliphate for which they worked though, of course, they would hang any boys actually caught in any of a number of forbidden acts. They simply refused to infer such acts from extraneous behavior. In any case, such hangings were, in practice, rare. Only two of Hans' original company, for example, had been put to death for homosexuality and that had been years ago. Far more boys had been killed in training.


Within half an hour the point of the column, led by Rustam, reached a magnificent brick gate, framed by graceful minarets. From the right of the gatehouse, where Rustam formed up the company, Hans could see the upper third of a large golden dome, glittering in the sunset's light. Despite the minarets, the dome seemed out of place, as if it had been grafted onto a non-Islamic or a pre-Islamic building.


While Rustam formed the company and made sure nobody had drifted off, Adbul Rahman met by the main gate with a very fat man with two young children in tow.


"Can your establishment handle all one hundred and fifty-seven of my men, plus thirteen cadre?" Abdul Rahman asked. "I understood that you could."


Latif answered, "No problem, Abdul Rahman von Seydlitz. I've pulled in another thirty-two houris from some of my outlying establishments and had several servant's quarters done up as boudoirs. I've got a girl for each of you. That said, the girls are of varying qualities. Would you like to make assignments or would you prefer a lottery? Or would you prefer to let the boys pick their own?"


"They've had little enough choice in their lives," Abdul Rahman answered, "and will get little more in the future. Let us let them select their own temporary wives, but by rank in the corps and the class."


"As you wish, so shall it be," answered Latif. "I have on hand enough mullahs for the required services. And now the little matter of payment?"


Wordlessly, Abdul Rahman passed over a bank draft. "Four hundred gold dinar," he said, "as agreed."


* * *

"Riiighghght . . . FACE!" Rustam ordered. "Column of files from the left . . ."


"Follow me," said one of the section leaders, the leftmost one, while the others, including Hans, shouted, "Stand fast!"


"March!"


As the boys marched forward from the left, Hans kept his head and eyes fixed over his left shoulder. When he saw the third from the last man of the section to his left come up parallel, he gave the order, "Forward . . . March," and stepped off. Rather than giving commands for minor movements, Hans simply followed the last man of the previous section even as his men followed him. In a short time, he had led them through the massive gate and into a courtyard dominated by a huge mosque with an outsized golden onion dome perched above. This was the same dome he had glimpsed from outside.


Ahead was a broad stone staircase, hunched up against one wing of the castle. Up this the janissaries marched, then through a magnificent doorway, before entering a great hall.


None of the janissaries had eyes for the hall or for its decorations. Instead, they only had eyes for the girls lining each side.


Müller spoke for nearly all when he said, aloud, "I have died and gone to Heaven."


Ling nudged Petra discreetly. "Didn't I tell you this would be better than nasty old men?"


Petra didn't answer. Instead, she looked with shock upon one, in particular, of the boys filling the great hall. After a few moments' shock she managed to whisper, "I've got to get out of here."


"I don't understand," Ling said. "After hundreds of filthy perverts I thought—"


"One of them is my brother!"


"Oh . . ." The almond eyes widened. "Oh! Oh, shit!"


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