“Heya! Zubaidit’s brother! Where are the whores?” asked Chaji, the soldier with pretty eyes and the features that most passed for good looks in the Hundred.

As if his words were a summons, the gates of gold opened without a sound. Four young women and one young man strolled out to look over the foreigners. The kalos was dressed in a kilt and vest, while the four hierodules wore taloos draped fetchingly around their figures.

One of the hierodules was a tall, lanky girl with a teasing grin. “I’m Walla,” she said to Kesh. “Do you remember me?”

He tried not to stare at the swell of her breasts under the tightly wrapped taloos. Every part of him remembered her, although he’d never touched her.

“You’re Bai’s brother. You thought you were so smart, but you two are in deep trouble now. Hah!”

Chaji stood and grabbed Walla by the forearm. “I take this one.”

The look she turned on him should have killed him; he didn’t even notice as he tightened his grip. The other holy ones became very quiet and very still. Even the breeze seemed to falter and catch its breath. Tohon rose. The younger soldiers watched with steady gazes.

“Eiya!” Kesh made a show of getting up with a hefty sigh. “That’s not how you do it! There are customs to be followed. If you offend the holy ones you’ll never be allowed to pass the gate a second time.”

Chaji, despite his pretty eyes or perhaps because of them, had a spoiled temperament. He stared blankly at Kesh and did not remove his hand from Walla’s shapely arm.

Tohon said, “This is a brothel. We choose one. Coin changes hand with the mistress of the place. We get our pleasure. She gets the coin. We leave. Neh?”

“There are times I wonder why the Merciless One opens her gates to all,” murmured the kalos to Walla as the other three rolled their eyes, looking disgusted. “They’re such savages. In their lands, those who should be allowed to offer pleasure freely are slaves forced to the work.”

“No,” said Kesh to him, “those who might offer freely aren’t allowed to. It’s considered shameful. Those who are slaves are forced to the work whether they wish it or no.”

Now he had shocked them. Here in the southwest, where they entertained the most traffic from outlanders of any of the temples, the holy ones ought to have known better. By their horrified expressions, they did not.

“The customs of your country are not the customs here,” said Kesh to Tohon. When he looked at Walla he received for his pains another mocking smile that made him sweat. “This is not a brothel. No coin changes hands. This is a holy temple. The holy ones give freely because they serve the goddess Ushara, the mistress of war, death, and desire.”

The Qin looked at him blankly, not understanding.

“Never mind,” said Kesh impatiently.

He closed a hand over Chaji’s wrist and yanked to dislodge his grip. He barely shifted Chaji’s arm, but the soldier sucked in breath with an audible hiss, then released Walla and slugged him.