by Justin Sloan
Rhona frowned. “I’d be offended if you tasted bile at the idea of kissing me.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure you’d be a great lay, in that sense. But the whole same-sex thing isn’t for me. Doesn’t mean I judge it, and if you want to get down with some woman you meet tonight, it won’t bother me one bit.”
“Shut up,” Rhona replied with a laugh, then put her hand over her mouth, remembering that her brother was sleeping. “You know I’m into Donnon.”
“Well then, let’s get to the baths, both feeling secure that the other might glance over only in curiosity, nothing more.”
Rhona wanted to laugh again, but instead grabbed her new clothes and motioned for silence as she made for the door.
Once they were outside, Rhona was glad to find the baths just down the street, because she was getting damn tired of people looking at her funny. One man was preaching about the evils of the world being dealt with, and how he had just traveled to some foreign land and seen the ways of justice first-hand. When he spotted Rhona, he held her gaze and said, “A woman not much older than this young one here! She brought the land to justice, as we must all stand for what we know is right!”
She had paused at being addressed so, and the man leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “You know, don’t you? You know that magic isn’t evil, as the paladins would have us believe.”
“That’s enough, Mr. Crazypants,” Estair stated, guiding Rhona on.
When they had left him behind, Rhona shook her head, confused. “It was like he knew me, like he could sense my…abilities.”
“Maybe he’s one of them,” Estair declared. “I mean, from Arcadia. Or maybe he’s a plant from the High Paladin, here to sniff you and other magic sympathizers out. We’re safer having nothing to do with him.”
Rhona had to agree, so they continued to the baths, giving the encounter no more thought.
The old woman at the gates collected a copper coin each, then pointed them to the baths. There were no changing rooms, just one large pool surrounded by a wall, so that at least people outside couldn’t look in. When they approached, they saw that it wasn’t even fresh water, but simply a depression in the rock that was fed by water from the ocean. It wasn’t as crowded as they had suspected it would be, only two older women, one of their daughters on one side, and an old man on the other side.
“It’s got to be freezing!” Estair exclaimed.
“But also clean. If the water’s coming from the ocean, it has to be filtered back out, right?”
“That explains why there aren’t more men here catching a peek,” Estair said.
Rhona didn’t follow, so she just nodded.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”
“Um, men being too weak for the cold water?”
Estair laughed as she set the new clothes aside where they would stay dry, and tossed her old clothes into a pile as she stripped. “No, because of what the cold water does to…you know.”
Rhona stared blankly, totally lost.
“You seriously don’t know what I’m talking about?” Estair asked, amused. “How it causes the snake to go into hiding?”
“The sna— OH!” Rhona blushed, covering her mouth, and instinctively looked at the old man before realizing she had done so. She jerked her gaze away hastily. “You mean it shrinks?”
Estair laughed loudly. “Child, you have a lot to learn. I hope this is over soon, so Donnon can give you an education.”
“I’d prefer it not to get smaller,” Rhona said, wrinkling her nose. “That’s not the education I need.”
“No, the lesson there is to keep it warm.”
“Can we… I mean, I don’t want to think about you keeping my brother’s snake warm.”
“Sorry, yeah, I can see how that’d be problematic.” She walked over to the edge of the water. “You coming or what?”
As Rhona slipped out of her clothes, she saw the old man open his eyes. Creep.
Not that it mattered, she told herself. She wouldn’t ever have to see him again after this. She joined Estair at the water’s edge and said, “On the count of three?”
“One, two…three!” Estair grabbed her hand and they stepped in together, shrieking as the frigid water made their legs numb.
“For the sake of cleanliness!” Rhona declared, like a battle cry.
“To not smell like horses anymore!” Estair replied, then dunked her head under the water. She came up screaming, then flung her hair back and laughed. “Holy cow shite, I’m going to need that whiskey after this!”
“We’ve faced worse than cold water.” Rhona tried to build up the courage to follow suit. She was just about to do it when Estair grabbed her and pulled her in. The water came up around her like a cement wall, the cold pounding at her head and making her wish she were dead for that instant. Then she sprang up, totally invigorated, as if every muscle in her body were ready to take on the world.
“Hot damn, that feels good!” she proclaimed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “And horrible at the same time. Soap?”
One of the ladies motioned to a tub nearby with bars of soap and scrub brushes, and Rhona went to work removing the grime. They were shivering by the time they were done, but quickly dried off with the towels they were given. Still mostly damp, they put on their new clothes, glad that the sun was still out and warm.
“Think we should check on my brother?” Rhona asked, glancing back at the hotel.
“Are you kidding? He’ll be passed out for a while yet. I’m so amped after that cold bath, I think we need a ladies’ night to wear us out again.”
“It’s not night.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” Estair winked, turning left away from the hotel. “Come on!”
Rhona wasn’t sure about the whole thing, but she couldn’t argue with the logic since there was no way she would be able to fall asleep right away. Their first stop was the cart with the potato alcohol, where Estair bought them each a shot.
“On three,” she said, handing Rhona her glass. “Three!”
They drank the alcohol and it burned going down, but Rhona smiled and handed the glass back to the man.
“That wasn’t so…bad.” She had started to feel her head spin mid-sentence, so she stood there, trying to focus.
“Just one drink and you’re already going blurry-eyed?” Estair grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her along. “Is it true they have chocolate in the lowland markets?”
Rhona laughed. “Of course. Wait, the clans don’t have chocolate?”
“Only if a traveler brings it.”
“We’re getting chocolate,” Rhona stated, becoming deadly serious. “Nothing is more important than this mission. Must find chocolate.”
They walked among the stalls, politely nodding to the merchants, looking totally different than when they had arrived. Then they had been dirty, looked horrible, and wanted nothing more than a bath and a nap.
Now they were feeling damn good and looking to have fun before they had to leave this all behind for an island possibly crawling with remnant or who knows what.
At the end of a side street, two guards were talking to a man. They were about to turn back when one of the guards hit the man, knocking him to the ground.
“Shite,” Estair cursed, clearly noticing the look in Rhona’s eyes.
Rhona wasn’t the type to see injustice done and turn away, and this was especially true when she had just had a shot of some unknown alcohol and was craving chocolate.
“Leave it alone, Rhona.”
“I can’t.” Rhona stepped forward and shouted, “Hey!”
Estair covered her face, but it was too late. The guards turned on them, leaving the man to pull himself up to a sitting position, leaning against the building wall behind him. He looked at them with confused relief.
“What’re two women doing dressed like teenage boys?” one guard asked. He had dark skin and deep-set eyes, giving him a more intimid
ating look than his clean-shaven redheaded partner.
“Run along,” the clean-shaven one said.
“Run along? You can’t seriously think they have that option after shouting at us. Or…” The guard looked them up and down, his teeth exposed in a half smile. “Maybe they were offering themselves as tribute.”
The clean-shaven guard’s face went pale, but the other was stepping forward.
“The hell did you say?” Estair moved up next to Rhona, apparently no longer feeling like they should mind their own business.
“You heard me. You’re here to reward me, and I accept, but first,” he pulled out a stock—a wooden baton—from his belt, and snarled, “I’m going to teach you some respect.”
“This jackhole’s going to pay now.” Estair reached for her weapon, but her hand found only air. They’d left their weapons in the room. She turned to Rhona with a pleading look. “Think we should…”
Rhona shook her head, barely. She was pretty sure the woman meant to use magic, and that would be a huge mistake here, with these guards. If anyone saw, even the man they were trying to protect, they could be reported and arrested—or killed—real fast.
“You’re telling me we have to go old-fashioned?” Estair asked.
Rhona nodded.
“See, I knew you wanted to have fun.” Estair smiled, turning back to the approaching guard. “How do you like it?”
“Excuse me?”
“When you get your arse whooped, do you like it drawn out and consistent, or quick but super-painful?”
The guard, paused, a look of confusion crossing over his face, and then laughed. “I like this little birdie. I hope she doesn’t fly away.”
“I wouldn’t dream of flying right now,” Estair told him, and she stood her ground while the guard came at her with his baton raised.
Rhona kept waiting for Estair to do something fancy like sidestep the strike or something, but when the guard slammed her in the stomach with his baton she just took it, collapsing to the ground with an ooomph.
“What’s wrong with you?” Rhona shouted to the guard as she ran to her friend’s side and helped her stand. She whispered in Estair’s ear, “And what the hell’s wrong with you?”
Estair smiled. She actually smiled. “Now I won’t feel guilty about this.”
“About what?”
“Watch.”
And with that Estair nodded toward the incoming baton, but this time she ducked under the strike meant for her head, pushing the man’s arms out of the way so that she could come in with a fist-strike to his groin and another to his throat.
He stumbled back, caught between bending over from the pain in his crotch and trying to breathe.
The other guard actually smiled at that, until the first got his voice back and croaked, “What are you doing? Get them!”
“See what you’ve done?” the clean-cut guard asked, and stepped forward as he said, “You two are under arrest.” But his eyes darted quickly to the nearby alley. Rhona blinked, confused, until he did it again. “Do not try to resist, or we will have no option but to use force.” Again with the eyes, so Rhona grabbed Estair by the wrist and pulled.
The two ran, and Estair laughed and said, “We shouldn’t be running, we should be pounding that jerk into the dirt!”
Rhona dragged her into a more crowded street and they fell into a brisk walk. “Yes, but this way we don’t earn ourselves unwanted attention for killing a city guard.”
It was clear that Estair wanted to argue, but saw the truth in that. They sidestepped into a stall of dresses, pretending to look them over just as the guard who had hit Estair went by, cursing and still holding his throat.
A moment later the other guard passed. They ducked behind some dresses and noticed him pause, feet facing them, then slowly walk off. Rhona had no doubt that he’d at least suspected where they were hiding, and made herself a note to send positive thoughts his way later.
“Hey, we at least got them off that guy,” Estair exclaimed. “I mean, assuming he wasn’t some sort of murdering scumbag, that’s a good thing.”
Rhona laughed. “I hadn’t even thought of that. Thanks.”
“I’m here to bring perspective.” Estair shrugged. “That’s what I do.”
A shadow fell over them, then a woman’s voice was heard. “What you should do here is buy a dress.”
They looked up to see a lanky elderly lady frowning at them.
“Sorry, just browsing,” Rhona replied, then took off in the opposite direction from the guards. After a few paces exhaustion began to set in, and Rhona remembered how tired she was supposed to be. She turned to Estair and saw the fatigue in her eyes, and they shared a nod.
No words were necessary. They needed to get back.
“If we pass that musician on the way back, what’d’ya say we dance a bit, so it really feels like ladies’ night?” Estair asked, with a smile that showed she wasn’t totally serious.
“Let’s play that one by ear.” Rhona turned to look around. “But first, let’s see if we can even find our way back.”
“Shite,” Estair said, scratching her chin. “Ooh, let’s make our way back to the water, then we find the baths and then our room.”
Rhona tapped her head in a sign of “smart thinking,” and motioned for Estair to lead the way.
“You’re fun,” Rhona told her as they walked back, “but exhausting. Think my brother knows what he’s getting into?”
“Oh, he knows. And he loves it.”
Rhona cringed. “Please tell me that wasn’t another sexual joke.”
Estair looked puzzled, and then her face lit up. “I didn’t mean it to be, but that’s good! Looks like your mind is becoming as corrupt as mine.”
Rhona chuckled and said, “Let’s just hurry back and try to avoid any more mistaken innuendos, then.”
“Deal.”
Estair smiled, took Rhona’s arm in hers, and led the way. Maybe Rhona wouldn’t admit it yet, but she was starting to think her brother hadn’t done so badly with this woman.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alastar woke to find himself alone in the room. He sat up, worried that something might have happened, but when he saw no sign of struggle and that the girls’ new clothes were gone, he assumed they had headed off to the baths.
The sun was sliding down toward the horizon across the water, and he looked forward to watching the sunset from the roof. Then they could go to the docks and see about procuring a boat to take them across to Sair Talem.
Part of him wished they could just stay here, hide out in this city and start a new life. Ignore everything going on out there.
But he also knew that to do so would mean letting the bad guys win. They would lose their freedom, and who knew how many lives in the process.
A horrible odor caught his attention, like beans left out and gone moldy, and for a moment he thought it was the room. When he leaned over, he realized it was him and sighed, annoyed that he was going to have to go to the baths after all.
Well, he could head over and wait until the ladies were done. Gathering up his new clothes, he hid the weapons under one of the cots, ensured he had the key, and headed out.
A crisp breeze had begun to blow in from the ocean, and he found himself looking forward to the warm waters of a bath. While they had cleaned up just the day before, riding across Roneland on a windy night on a smelly horse didn’t lend itself to feeling clean.
He paused at the top step of the inn, where he could just see the white lines of waves crashing on the shore through a narrow slit between two buildings. A mast rocked below, where he imagined the ships must be docked.
Heading down the street toward his goal, he noted the number of people starting to dwindle and wondered if there was something going on that he wasn’t aware of.
He found the baths, although they were empty of the ladies. He hadn’t wanted to bother with a bath even before finding out it was cold water, but now that Estair was clean, he felt he had
to be also.
His skin tightened and his heart felt like it was going to explode when he entered the water, his balls retreating as if they were trying to hide in his stomach. Without pausing for a second, he threw water on himself, soaped, rinsed, and was out with a shiver.
Damn, people were idiots for bathing in this stuff.
He put on his new clothes and noted the ladies’ old clothes in the corner, so threw his there as well. He was glad that they’d kept the plaid for hauling their supplies, because he didn’t want to have to tell Gordon that he’d trashed the man’s clothes.
On his way out, he saw two teenage boys running past and called to them, “Where is everyone?”
“A fight’s breaking out over at the Eagle’s Eye,” one of the boys said, and then they were gone.
Although he shrugged it off at first and was about to head back to the hotel, a horrible thought hit him—what if it was the girls?
He cinched up his new pants, as they were a tad loose, then jogged after the boys.
Sure enough, a crowd of people had gathered around a building on the opposite side of the market, and someone was shouting. Alastar made his way through the crowd, apologizing or shoving people aside when necessary.
There was a woman yelling, but he couldn’t be sure if it was his sister or Estair because her voice was shrill with emotion.
“Stay back, or he’ll kick your arses!” the woman cried, and then Alastar came through the crowd and was able to catch sight of her. Good, it wasn’t either of his, but some random woman with wavy hair that stuck out in every direction, a brighter red than his sister’s.
She was shouting at two guards, one a dark-skinned man and the other taller with a hooked nose. It didn’t seem to be any of Alastar’s business unless they were about to hit a woman, so he was about to back away when he noticed the man next to her. He was trying to calm her down, glancing around the crowd in a nervous fashion, and then his eyes met Alastar’s.
Those stone-gray eyes were unmistakable, even if Alastar totally hadn’t recognized him outside of his paladin armor or the pure white clothes they had worn when not in armor back at the castle of the Order of Rodrick.