Temple Boys by Jamie Buxton Page B

last and the last shall be first!” every man in the room shouted back, and raised their golden goblets.
    Mat pushed Flea toward a couch in the middle of the row. He stood by it nervously, then felt someone behind him. He turned and found himself looking up at Yeshua smiling at him. For the first time Flea noticed the laughter lines around his eyes. He had a gap between his front teeth and his beard had been trimmed and oiled so it gleamed.
    â€œFlea,” he said. “Flea. There’s something I want from you. Something very important.”

 
    19
    Misgivings flooded Flea’s mind and must have shown on his face, because Yeshua laughed again.
    â€œI’m not going to eat you,” he said.
    â€œI didn’t—”
    â€œBut you’re scared. No, not scared. Worried.”
    â€œSo?” Flea tried to stand tough but found it hard.
    â€œSit with me,” Yesh said.
    â€œWhy me? Why not get Halo or Crouch or any of the others?”
    â€œBecause you’ve been against me from the start and I want to know why. Is it that Jude caught you robbing us and you feel embarrassed? Come to think of it, you definitely should feel embarrassed.”
    Flea flushed. “He told you that?”
    â€œYou answer my question,” Yesh said firmly.
    â€œWe were always going to rob you. That was the plan. I was the only one with the guts to try it.”
    â€œOr the others realized they might get more out of being my friend.”
    â€œGot enough friends,” Flea lied.
    Yesh looked at him fondly. “You know, sometimes we push away what we most need just in case we’re not going to get it. When we most need to be loved, we make ourselves unlovable.”
    Flea snorted. “Do you think I’m that thick?”
    Servants were placing copper bowls of warm water in front of everyone. The water smelled enticingly of lemon. Flea was thirsty and drank but then saw that all around, people were dipping their elegant fingers into the bowls, washing them, then waiting for servants to hand them spotlessly white linen cloths. He felt his face flush again, and then heard from behind him the sound of loud slurping.
    Yesh, drinking deeply, met Flea’s eyes from the bowl’s rim and winked.
    Flea turned away again. What was he supposed to feel? Grateful? Did Yesh really think he was such a pushover?
    Food began to arrive, weird stuff that was both sweet and salty and unlike anything Flea had tasted before. While Yesh talked to his uncle, Flea took a sip of wine, found he liked it, and took another.
    On the couch next to his, Yak was feeding Halo. Big was showing Tauma a few of his favorite wrestling moves, which involved throwing himself around on the floor, but no one seemed to mind. Jude was at the end of the row of couches. When Flea waved, his hand seemed far away and he became fascinated by the way he could wiggle his fingers. It all seemed quite funny.
    More wine.
    More astonishing pastries. More wine.
    More meat: bird of some kind.
    Flea grew hot and lay on the cool floor for a while. People laughed at him and he didn’t care, except the noise got trapped in his head and suddenly it didn’t matter that Jude had told him to keep his eyes and ears open. Instead, it became very important to leave the room because if he didn’t he was going to be sick.
    He staggered to his feet, blundered into a slave, found a passageway that seemed cooler than the great hall, and followed the coolness until he saw the outside. Bliss.
    He heard a fountain. Even more bliss. He tripped but didn’t care. The fountain was in the middle of a beautiful courtyard and fell into a raised pool. Flea weaved his way to it and dipped his head into the water. The shock was like being reborn. He came up gasping, then plunged his head down again, opened his eyes, blew silver bubbles, and watched them rise. Then he crawled around the side of the fountain and propped himself up against it so he could