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48. Bath Talk

48 – Bath Talk

Children’s Crossing was a busy place. Haley and Ward had to wait in line to deliver their mounts to the stable, and once they got the chance to speak to the stable manager, Haley paid the hands a few extra glories to give Nutmeg and Wind Queen some extra attention. The hands agreed to cool down the horses, brush them off, and feed them some “restorative” oats—food she’d described to Ward as being alchemically enriched.

Meanwhile, Ward looked around in wonder at all the different sorts of animals in the pen, amused and impressed by how they seemed to get along, from ostrich-like birds with broad backs and thick legs to something that looked like an ox with a leathery, inch-thick brown shell over its back. Still, most of the beasts looked like perfectly normal horses, mules, and oxen.

After dropping off their mounts, Ward and Haley walked into the imposing, asymmetrical structure of the travel lodge. Amid the noise of string instruments, raucous laughter, and clinking dishes, they spoke to the innkeeper and rented a room—one of only two available. To Ward’s disappointment, there was no bath in the room, but the innkeeper assured him that the public baths were spacious, clean, and very hot. Grunting with the pain in his glutes, ignoring Grace’s teasing, Ward followed Haley outside, up a flight of wooden steps on the side of the ramshackle inn, past a few occupied rooms, and then into their own. It wasn’t anything like the room he’d had at The Hen’s Nest.

“What a dump,” he grumbled.

“We’re not staying long, but yes, I agree.” Haley threw her pack at the foot of the second of two narrow cots, each devoid of sheets and boasting a thin straw-filled mattress. Ward looked around the room, ensuring no rats or gigantic roaches lurked in the corners or under the rickety table. It was dusty, but his inspection revealed nothing gross or disturbing. He’d just turned back to his little bed when Haley tossed him a jar of salve. “Rub that on your…sore areas after your bath.”

“What about you?”

“I was up all night. I’ll sleep for a few hours. I tipped one of the serving girls to knock on our door at sundown. That should give us four or five hours, and then we can put some more distance between us and Sonder’s men.”

Ward frowned, contemplating a response. Hadn’t they decided to maybe not run from those men? Was she just trying to be agreeable, still worried about Ward maybe ditching her? “Go ahead and sleep. We can talk about our plan when we’re both a little more rested. Maybe we don’t want to outrun those men, right?”

“Right.” She sat down with a heavy sigh. “It’s up to you, in any case. I’m not going to insist on going after Sonder.”

“Yeah, we’ve been over that. Don’t worry, I know you aren’t insisting.” Ward dug around in his pack for some clean clothes and his toiletry bag, then gestured to the door. “Be back in half an hour or so.” She nodded and laid back on the bed, using a rolled-up coat as a pillow. Ward slipped out and followed the painted signs toward the bathhouse. It was on the ground floor and about twenty yards removed from the main structure—a big, round building built of clay bricks. Steam perpetually rose from the central chimney stack, and as he approached, a man and woman, both scantily clad, came tip-toeing out, hurrying over the cobbled pathway to the inn. Ward nodded to them as they passed, then slipped into the building.

A young man wearing denim shorts, a straw hat, and nothing else sat on a stool next to rows of cubbies in the wall. He nodded to Ward and said, “I’ll keep your stuff safe here, mister.”

Ward eyed him up and down, then nodded. “Ten glories in it for you if you keep a close eye on ‘em.”

“Sure, mister. There’s a sink over there and towels on that rack. You can bring your own soap into the baths, but we have some in there, too.” He pointed around the spacious entry room, and Ward followed his pointing finger, seeing slatted benches, several copper sinks, mirrors, and an enormously rotund, pink-fleshed man vigorously scrubbing his back and butt with a towel. Ward tried to keep his expression neutral as he undressed at one of the benches. He’d been in plenty of gym locker rooms and barracks—he wasn’t shy about stripping down, especially being as fit as he was; in his mind, there was nothing to be ashamed of.

Ward tucked his belongings into a cubby, nodded to the kid, flicked him a five-glory coin, and then, towel and soap in hand, walked through the beaded curtain under the sign that read, “GENTS.” His confidence didn’t exactly wither, but things got a little stranger when he saw how many people were in the big, steamy room and when a dozen sets of eyes turned toward him. The space was round, every surface lined with cedar planks, and four large copper tubs, more like jacuzzis to his mind than bathtubs, sat flush with the flooring.

For a second, Ward worried he’d misunderstood things and that he should have a swimsuit or something on, but a glimpse of things he’d rather not inspect beneath the water’s surface reassured him. He tossed his towel on a cedar bench and stepped into the least crowded of the four tubs. It wasn’t especially deep, only coming up to his waist. His legs bumped up against a seat built into the side, and he sat, nodding and smiling to the other occupants, a hirsute man with glittering purple irises and two men who each looked capable of wrestling a steer into submission. “Afternoon,” he sighed with deep pleasure as the hot water penetrated his stiff, sore joints and muscles.

“Oy, there, sorcerer! Where you headed?” the hairy man asked, using his fingertips to sprinkle hot water over his head.

“North.” Ward found it easy to be vague when he really didn’t know.

“Gonna stay long?” one of the other men asked. He was thick in every sense of the word, with big, rolling shoulders and bulging, rosy cheeks. He chuckled at something his companion whispered.

“Nah, moving on soon. You folks from around here?”

“Me and Garth are,” the burly fellow replied, for some reason eliciting another giggle from his friend.

“Oh, brother,” Grace said, making her first appearance in a while. She sat at the side of the tub, her pants rolled up, her dainty little feet soaking in the steaming water.

“Garth, is it? And your name?” For some reason, Grace’s discomfort made Ward want to talk to the strange, giggling men all the more.

He giggled again and shoved at his friend, “Stop that! He keeps tickling my ribs! I’m Andy.”

“Andy and Garth, huh? Brothers?”

“Just friends.”

“Ah.” Ward nodded, busying himself with scrubbing down with some cedar-scented soap he’d purchased in Tarnish.

“What brings you to the inn, mister?” At first, Ward thought Garth’s question was directed at him, but the hirsute man with the violet eyes replied.

“I’m heading east. Meant to be investigating some crimes there. Been a spate of bad stuff happening in these parts.”

“East?” Ward asked, suddenly interested. Was this man a marshal? If so, shouldn’t he be heading south?

“Aye, over in the valley.”

“Applegrass?” one of the men asked—Ward couldn’t see which, as, at that moment, he was rinsing soap off his face.

The hairy, purple-eyed man grunted in assent. “Yep, that’s the one. You heard anything about that warlock? Supposedly, he’s killed off half the landholders. Rumors are he’s trying to claim it all for himself. ‘Course it ain’t my job to fight the noble’s battles for ‘em, but I gotta go investigate, make sure the duels were fought according to the law.”

“You’re a marshal?” Ward asked.

“That’s right. Marshal Aldiss at your service.”

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The two men had been carrying on a hushed discussion, and after the marshal answered Ward’s question, Andy cleared his throat. “We’ve heard rumors ‘bout that trouble over in Applegrass. In fact, we met that warlock. He passed this way!”

Ward’s interest was obviously piqued, but Grace decided to make sure he wasn’t terminally stupid, “You realize they’re probably talking about Nevkin, right?”

“What did he look like?” Ward asked, ignoring her.

“Strange man. He had wild eyes and said the most bizarre things. Me and Garth were at the inn for dinner when he stayed. He ranted and raved a good bit! It was scary. He had a, well, this sounds mad, but he had a silver tongue.”

Ward decided to play dumb. “What do you mean? He said flattering things to the ladies?”

“No! His tongue was made of metal! You wouldn’t notice casually ‘cause it moved around like a normal tongue, but when he got to raving, opening his mouth to yell and rant, you could see it glinting in the light.”

Garth nodded, eyes wide. “He said things that hurt my ears and made my head feel funny!”

“That’s helpful, gentlemen.” The marshal nodded, scratching his mustache. “I’ll ask ‘round the inn for more detail.”

Andy nodded. “Oh, I can tell you another thing! His head was bald, and he had blue tattoos all over it!”

Ward looked at Grace, silently making eye contact. She smiled. “You should tell Haley.”

Ward cleared his throat and interjected, “How far is this valley from here, Marshal?”

“Applegrass? ‘Bout two days east. Going to be a long few weeks of travel for me—gotta head down to Tarnish after I see about this warlock fellow.”

“Oh yeah?” Ward had immediately decided he wouldn’t mention his involvement in those crimes, so he tried to steer the conversation toward a topic he was very interested in. “So, I’m not from these parts, but maybe you can explain something to me. Are you saying this warlock fellow might not be in trouble for killing off nobles? Is it okay to kill people around here?”

The marshal shrugged and produced a small brush—had he been sitting on it?—and stroked it through his thick hair. “It’s not okay to just murder people, but if you have a grievance and issue a challenge by way of dueling, there are legal grounds.”

“Not for just any old folk!” Garth chimed in.

“Oh, yes, true, true.” The marshal nodded, chuckling as he scooped more hot water and drizzled it over his head. “Aye, the Noble Dueling Doctrine only applies to those on the Vainglory Road or, as is implied by the name, in a position of sovereignty.”

Ward mulled that over for a minute, noting Grace’s pensive expression. Before she could say what was bothering her, he asked, “What’s the ‘Vainglory Road’?”

“Oh, aye, you’re new, but you’re clever. That’s where I come in most of the time. If there’s a grievance about a duel, oftentimes it stems from the family of one party claiming their loved one wasn’t on the Road”—something about the way he said the word made Ward sure it was a proper noun—"which means I have to do some investigating to see if a person was called to duel unjustly. Sometimes, it's as easy as interviewing folks and finding out the fellow went about boasting about the challenges, how he’d completed one and intended to find another. Challenges are on the Road, so that makes my job easier.”

“And a person like this warlock can just go up to a noble house, say he wants their lands, and duel the lord or lady? Even if they’re old or infirm or never held a weapon?”

“It sounds harsh, but a key part of the noble obligation in the Vainglory System is to defend the people you rule over. If you can’t do that, you don’t deserve the titles. If a noble can’t fight, they better be able to afford a champion. If they can’t do either, they still have the option to walk away with their lives and ten percent of their treasury.”

“Huh.” Ward nodded. “Harsh, but I guess I’ve seen systems I liked less.” His mind went to the centuries of horrible rulers many countries on Earth had endured simply because they’d been born into a particular family. Another thought struck him, and he asked, “I take it you enforce this rule? For the, uh, Vainglory Assembly?”

“That’s right, traveler! Let me ask you something now: Where are you from?” The marshal smoothed his bushy black beard down, his smile pushing his cheeks up, making his bright eyes sink further under his dark brows.

“I’m from a distant world. Earth. Have you heard of it?”

“Can’t say I have! Gents?”

“No!” Andy shook his head, and Garth just giggled.

Grace leaned close, and though no one else could hear her, she whispered, “There’s something very off about those two…”

“Welp!” Ward sighed and stood, giving his arms and shoulders one more rinse. “I’ve got to get some sleep, but I wonder, Marshal, are you planning to head out soon? I mean to Applegrass?”

“First thing in the morning, stranger.”

Ward grinned and held out his hand. “It’s Ward.” The marshal’s hand was surprisingly stout, and his grip was like a vise. As he released his hand, Ward asked, “I don’t suppose you could use a little company? My partner and I are heading that way.”

“Well, I travel by horse, so…”

“Perfect! We do as well.”

“In that case, stranger, er, Ward, I wouldn’t mind a bit of company. These parts aren’t usually too rough, but I’ve been known to escort the locals on my travels. Don’t make me hunt you out of your rooms, though—I’ll leave just after sunrise.”

“Well, I’m an early riser, so you’ll find my partner and me in the common room. We’ll be ready.” Ward nodded to the two strange men, “Gentlemen.” They giggled and waved, and then Ward had to face the embarrassment of being the first to leave a communal tub. He tried to be nonchalant, but there’s nothing cool about a naked man climbing out of a tub. He managed to keep from slipping or something equally embarrassing, and thankfully, the heat from the hot water hid the rush of hot blood that ran to his head as he tried to dry off calmly near the exit.

“That seemed awkward. I mean, you leaving while they all stared at your butt.”

“Jesus, Grace.” Ward sighed, shaking his head. “Oh well, yeah, it was awkward. Maybe I’d get used to it eventually, but I’m not sure I’m a fan of this communal bath business.” By the time he’d gathered his belongings and returned to the room he shared with Haley, he was ready to collapse into the cot and get a few hours of sleep. She was still curled up atop her little straw mattress, her back to him as she breathed slowly and deeply, and he tried to be as quiet as possible as he closed the door and then took five minutes to smear some of the healing salve on his butt, hamstrings, and lower back.

That done, he stretched out on the little cot and inwardly groaned. The mattress was terrible—thin, pokey, and lumpy—and his mind kept imagining the types of people who’d slept on it. While he lay there, back to Haley, facing the door, Grace quietly sat on the floor beside his cot, her face just a few inches from his. “Are you going to explain why you want to travel with that marshal?”

Ward nodded and whispered so softly that only Grace could possibly hear him. “I’m going to challenge Nevkin to a duel. Figure the marshal ought to be my witness. Oh, and I’m going to turn him against that cousin of Haley’s. I’m hoping his men catch up to us while we’re on the road. I’ll get the marshal to help me question them. I know Haley’s telling the truth, and I know my gut’s right about this—that asshole killed her parents, and I’m going to see that the marshal makes him pay for it.”

“Two birds with one marshal-shaped stone?”

“Well, yeah, and some magic and a bit of killing on my part.” Ward winked at her, somehow not the least bit bothered about the idea. Grace smiled back at him, and, with her sitting there, looking at him almost pleasantly, his eyes finally got heavy enough to ignore the uncomfortable mattress, and he slipped into a dreamless sleep.

His sleep was short-lived, however. Seemingly, seconds after he’d closed his eyes, he heard an insistent knock on the door and then the sound of Haley hopping out of bed and striding over to open it. “Thank you,” she murmured, then closed the door softly. “Ward?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, groaning as he turned onto his back. Before he’d gone to sleep, lying on his back had been almost impossible due to the pain of his bruised tailbone. He had to admit, it felt a lot better already. “Listen, we need to talk.”

“Oh?” Haley quietly padded over the floor to sit at the foot of his bed. He shifted his feet to one side, giving her a little more room.

“Yeah. I found out where Nevkin is.”

“You did?”

“Yep. He’s in a place called Applegrass, and he’s killing off the nobles in the area, taking their lands. I think he’s gone nuts, or, shit, maybe he’s just trying to set up his own little kingdom. I met a marshal, too. He’s the one who’s supposed to investigate your parents’ murder, but he got called off to check into Nevkin’s duels to make sure they’re legit. We’re going to travel with him.”

“We…We need to get ahead of Sonder’s men.”

“Not anymore, we don’t. We’re going to let ‘em catch us. In fact, we’ll make a big show of leaving in the morning, make sure a bunch of people see us.”

“But why?”

Ward yawned and stretched again, looking down at Haley and smiling. “’Cause when they catch us, I’ll cast the reveal secrets spell on ‘em, and I’ll make sure the marshal’s watching. I’ve never cast it on a person, but I have a feeling—let’s call it a hunch—that whoever’s leading Sonder’s posse will have a few incriminating things to say.”

“What if they’re violent? What if they attack us?”

“Well, all the more reason to be traveling with the marshal. I’d like to spend some time chatting him up while we travel—learn about the laws in this system and whatnot. When Sonder’s men catch us, they’re going to have a bad time. Trust me.” Ward grinned and sat up, “Now, since I’ve arranged for us to get a full night’s rest, let’s go stuff our bellies first.”