The stream diverted into two, and she looked at the split with excitement.
He was uncertain which path was theirs, and he opened his mouth to enquire, but Penryn waved her hand toward the leftmost, her feet taking her to the right. “It is that way,” she declared, and he had nothing to do but to follow her, as clearly she knew something he did not.
They did not have to go far, his nose becoming more accustomed to the smell, even if his eyes stung strangely.
There was a pool, one that evidently fed into the larger stream they had abandoned. There was what appeared to be vapour coming out of it in places, but that was not possible, was it?
“Penryn, what is this?” Grimult asked, eyeing the water nervously, uncertain if he should draw her away from here, back from water that seemed to be heated by some unnatural phenomena.
“This,” Penryn explained with excitement. “Is a bath.”
Twelve
“Penryn,” Grimult began in some measure of exasperation. “You cannot possibly think that this is wise.”
Judging from the look she gave him in return she certainly did think so, and did not appreciate his lack of enthusiasm.
“We do not even know that it is safe,” he tried to reason, knowing that very soon he was going to have to turn around and keep watch if she insisted on shedding quite so many layers.
“Grimult,” Penryn said in return, a hint of teasing warring with an equal dash of annoyance. “I would appreciate if sometimes you could believe that I do things because it is possible that I received some instruction that you did not. Perhaps this is part of a sacred ceremony that we are to take part in before we continue on. Did you ever consider that?”
He swallowed when she removed her outer garment, a grey shift left behind to cover her when nothing else seemed to remain. “Is it?” he asked, hating that there was a strain in his voice. “A part of a ceremony?”
Surely they would have told him if it was true. Would have explained the markers to lead them to this... place.
But there was no denying that Penryn had walked with purpose away from the opposite bend in the stream, as if knowing to come here. And she was so determined that perhaps... perhaps she was right. This was a part of things, and it was his responsibility to trust her in matters that he did not understand.
Just as she trusted in him for her physical protection.
“I shall wait until you are finished,” Grimult declared, trying to retain some sense of decency between them. It would take longer, and he did not much care for that, but it could not be helped. He realised belatedly that he should have turned his head already. Penryn was far too...
Lovely.
Far too much a woman when bared of her robes that lent her such strength and subtle dignity.
She was working at unbinding her hair, giving her tresses a fairly violent tousle to see them freed, doubtlessly anxious to have them washed as well.
He swallowed, and turned around.
And there was no mistaking the sigh from behind him.
“This is not a seduction,” Penryn told him again, just as she had done when she’d insisted on tending to his feathers. She would probably do that again when this was over, when they were bathed and clean, and already his skin prickled with the desire for such an indulgence.
He was being tempted, not for anything untoward—he was not going to bring such shame on himself, the Lightkeep, or the parents who would be so heartily disappointed in his lapse—but there was no mistaking that he longed to be fully clean.
A wet rag and a cold stream could only do so much, and they have travelled a very long way...
“If we are going to do this,” Grimult clarified, turning back to look at her, a new purpose about him. “Then we do it properly.
She gave him a quizzical look, evidently not understanding his meaning.
“I build a fire, we scrub our clothes as well as ourselves and we wait for them to dry.” It was a warm day, so he doubted it would take long. There would be little travel left in the sunlight hours, further reduced by the heavy boughs above their heads, but perhaps they could sacrifice this one day.
From the way Penryn’s eyes lit up, she heartily agreed.
And it made the loss of an afternoon worth it.
He hoped he did not regret such an assessment later.
Penryn shifted awkwardly when Grimult did not immediately divest himself of clothing. He set the pack down first, surrendering it to Penryn’s supervision as he shook out his feathers, relishing the long stretch, freed from his burden unexpectedly quickly. Wood was plentiful, so he did not have to venture far to gather enough for their small blaze. He stationed it beside one of the smaller trees, its lowest braches not as high as the others, most beginning far above Grimult’s head. These came to about his chest and would do well to serve as a line for when sodden clothes were draped across them.
Next came their bedrolls, and before Penryn could question his reasoning, he turned to her. “We will need a place to sit while we wait, yes? No point in getting clean if we sit on the dirt.”
She nodded, her arms coming to cross about her chest, and there was no mistaking that she was growing more aware of the differences in their state of dress.
For all Saryn insisted that it was a far more difficult thing for a girl to dress in the mornings, it took Grimult a great deal longer to get out of them. There was not only his clothing to consider, but the weapons stashed about his person, buckles that had grown worn with constant friction, flesh that had once
