Chapters (51)
- Dedication
- Contents
- PREVIOUSLY …
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- PART II
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- PART III
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- PART IV
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- About the Author
- ALSO BY DAVID WRAGG
- About the Publisher
Ruumi gestured to the cushions and furs beyond. ‘Please, rest for now. Bathe, I beg you, for others’ benefit if not your own. Pikul will direct you.’ One of the meaty guards nodded, incongruous as a bull. ‘I must go, I have much to prepare. I will return soon, and we can discuss our proposals then.’ She swept from the room, a pale, languid flourish, lost in the hallway’s darkness in a moment.
‘Well, she’s a pain in the arse,’ Loveless muttered. ‘Is it just me, or does this sort of thing seem to happen to us with alarming frequency?’
Rennic sat down heavily on one of the fat cushions that littered the chambers’ common area. Chel glanced at the guards, immobile as statues, their gazes fixed. ‘What do we do?’
Whisper was unwinding various straps from her limbs, laying her equipment down on top of a carved wooden trunk. She gestured, one-handed, then resumed her task.
Rennic sighed and nodded. ‘As the lady says, a bath wouldn’t kill us.’
EIGHT
‘Aye, right, hot springs, very clever.’
Noxious alchemical steam billowed from the bathhouse, venting through a skylight into the freezing night above. Pikul, the giant guard escorting them, gestured to the women, then to the door on the left, then the men and the other door. Steam churned in the low amber light beyond.
‘Why the separation?’ Chel asked again, although he was both disappointed and relieved.
Lemon shrugged. ‘Best not quibble, I’d say. They’re not a bunch renowned for flexibility of custom.’
***
The antechamber was hot, the sulphuric stench initially overpowering, but the effect waned as they acclimatized. They dumped clothes on wooden benches, crunching over the still-cold ground to the rocky pool beneath the slatted roof overhead. However ashamed Chel felt at his nakedness between peeling off the last of his travelling garb, scuttling through the rippling steam and sliding into the hot, hissing pool, he had nothing on the prince. Tarfel, a blushing white stripe in the rolling clouds, shuffled crabwise around the edge, hands clamped over his nether regions, then splashed into a distant, far corner of the pool.
The water was unreal, supremely warm, and Chel felt buoyant, relaxed, soothed. His shoulder pulsed, slowly, almost happily. From somewhere over the wooden divide, he heard giggles and the petulant tones of the Nort alchemist. It seemed she was having some conceptual difficulties with the shared bath.
Somewhere to Chel’s left, Rennic stretched out his tattooed arms and groaned with aching happiness. To his right, Foss did likewise. One of them farted, but it was impossible to tell which. Both collapsed in laughter, street-kids at a parade.
‘What do you make of her then, friends? Our illustrious host.’
Rennic blew soaking strands of hair from his face. ‘Nearly-queen Ruumi? She’s playing the grinning guide, but let’s not forget where we are. She’s something around here, and this lot tend to respect one thing above all.’