Candlemas went on berating his mages. It was true he'd ordered experiments made on these fleas. He'd had a vague hope they carried germs in their guts that could counteract the 'wheat rust' that was threatening famine, since they fed on the cows that prospered eating blighted wheat. The arcanist was getting desperate, for every other experiment had failed. But he'd never intended his workshop to be the site of the testing. There were laboratories, storerooms, and halls aplenty in this castle, more than in some whole towns. And certainly he hadn't ordered giant, man-eating fleas, though he had mentioned a magic grain-toughening spell he thought might help. Still, his underlings were supposed to think for themselves, not follow orders like drunken zombies. He wasn't Sysquemalyn, after all. 'You two'll be flogged for your incompetence! I never-'
He halted, whirled in place by a mighty barbarian hand. Sunbright towered over the smaller man with a heart-stopping frown.
Up close, the wild man was frightening. Although his hair was bright blond-thus naming him-Sunbright wore only a topknot and horsetail, with his temples shaved close. He bore no facial hair, but made up for it with myriad scars: enough scars to stitch a tapestry, though he was not much over twenty years old. He was strapped with ropy muscle, tough as an oak tree and as hard to kill, for he'd been to hell and beyond and survived, killed more monsters than Candlemas could imagine. Blood-spattered and scraped, with his bulky clothes in rags making him look even wider and taller, Sunbright was a frightening sight. Candlemas knew he could handle this young wildling-most of the time-but there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes.
'Let's split that nut now!' growled the northerner. 'I am not your underling! You came asking my help! I agreed to study with you to learn Greenwillow's fate, and to see if, together, we could solve our problems. But we're to be equals in all things. Is that clear?'
Breathing carefully, keeping his face neutral, Candlemas replied, 'Of course. My mistake. Being steward of this castle I tend to give orders easily, and forget. All apologies. But I might point out, if you are to live in this castle, you'll need to conform to certain rules, certain… conventions.'
'I see no need for any conventions, or rules!' Sunbright leaned close, and Candlemas reflected even his smell was wild: wood smoke, pine sap, and musk. 'I seek to become a shaman, to free Greenwillow's soul from whatever slimy corner of hell she's been banished to, and to eventually return to my tribe to… well, never mind why. So I don't-'
'Yes, and I've plenty to do too,' Candlemas dared to interrupt. He needed to show some pride. 'And that's why I asked you here! I need to direct these nincompoops in finding a solution to this blight-which is beginning to spread to barley crops and apple orchards-before nine-tenths of the empire's peasants starve to death! And I need to address the demands of Lady Polaris, may Tyche, our Lady Luck, see she prosper, because this is her Castle Delia you stand in! And I must also… well, enough about me. Just don't think-'
'I'll think as I please!' So intent was he on arguing, Sunbright failed to see the maids creep in. 'Don't tell me how to think! Or what to do! We'll work together or not at all! I'm not some bull-whipped dung-shoveler you've cowed into subjugation! I'm Sunbright Steelshanks of the Raven Clan of the Rengarth Barbarians, and my tribesmen bow to no one, including each other. There are no freer people in all the lands of all the gods!'
'Fine, yes, wonderful,' Candlemas sighed, 'but this is not the tundra, and you'll do well to follow a few of our customs. Such as regular baths, especially when one is drenched in gore! Now, if you'll be so kind-is that better? — please follow Hamuda and her girls to the baths. Because you're now as free as a man can be.' He looked downward significantly.
Sunbright glanced down. While he'd glowered at the steward, the maids had industriously peeled off the rest of his torn, bloody, trail-worn clothing. For a moment, the barbarian stood in only his ring-studded moosehide boots, then the giggling maids wrapped him in a soft robe of black-and-white.
Candlemas raised his eyebrows. With a snort of disgust, Sunbright snatched his sword from a table and, boots jingling, followed a bevy of fawning, laughing maids out the door.
Chapter 2
With no idea of their destination, Sunbright tramped after the frowning Hamuda with the giggling maids trailing. The twin girls were pretty, he noted, small, not one higher than his elbow, with short, dark hair, unlike the women of his tribe, who were mostly northern blonde like himself. The girls had pixie faces and white teeth, and looked alike, as if they were all cousins. They'd been recruited from one tribe, he reasoned, an idea reinforced when they occasionally whispered words in a language he didn't recognize.
The dark, shining hair peeking from under their caps reminded him of Greenwillow's hair, black as only an elf's can be. The memory sent a pang through his chest. Greenwillow had been lost, crushed or burned to death in a fiery chasm of a lesser hell. He'd seen it with his own eyes, yet somehow couldn't believe she was gone forever. Her spirit was out there still, he knew. But whether it was a forlorn lover or a shaman-to-be who hoped so, he didn't know.
Lost in thought, he realized they'd stopped. The girls stood behind, Hamuda to one side. They waited.
So did Sunbright. 'What is it?'
For answer, Hamuda waved a bony hand at the wall. It was all white, broken by square lines. A sigil of some kind was painted on the wall. When Sunbright hesitated longer, the head maid swallowed a sigh and pushed the wall. The square part swung back to reveal a room.
'Oh!' Sunbright nodded. 'It's a door! I've seen these in the cities.'
To the accompaniment of fresh giggling, he was ushered into the small room. The air inside was hot and steamy and the walls were lined with white tile. Two more maids waited inside, wearing only short white smocks and wilted hair. At the center of the room was a raised circular rim. Sunbright approached, touched it. 'Is this a well? No, a hot spring.'
'It's a bathtub,' rasped Hamuda. 'If master would be so kind as to get in?'
'In?' Sunbright clamped his hands on the rim and leaned over carefully. 'How deep is it? There's a hot spring near our summer camping grounds that's bottomless, and it gets hotter the lower you go. If you weight a trout with a stone on a line, you can cook it by sinking it nine arm-lengths.'
A gasp sounded behind, one maid finally losing control and setting all four sniggering with hands over their mouths. Sunbright smiled too, until he realized they were laughing at him. He bit down on a frown.
Hamuda clapped her hands, stifled the girls somewhat, and shooed out the two in black. Sunbright was left with the two bathmaidens, who held fluffy towels as they gestured to the water invitingly. When he still hesitated, one slipped over the edge of the tub in her shift, demonstrating that the 'spring' was only knee deep. Still frowning, Sunbright shucked the robe, kicked off his boots, and climbed in. Unused to the slick bottom, he almost slipped and brained himself on the opposite edge of the tub. The bathmaidens pretended not to notice.
The water was so hot Sunbright's toes tingled, and his many insect wounds itched and stung. Gingerly, he made to sit.
One of the bathmaidens asked, 'Is it too hot, milord? We can add cold water.' Stroking a finger along a silver pipe to one side, she breathed, 'Wet!' Cold water spilled from the spout, then she shut it off. 'Dry!'
Wondering, Sunbright touched the pipe. It was cold. Sunbright stoked the pipe. 'Wet!' Nothing happened. He asked the girls, 'What is the secret?'
'No secret, milord. Just a simple cantra to turn the spigot off and on. The water is behind. It just needs to be released.'
Sunbright squinted in the steamy room. 'You can work magic?'
Giggles. 'Everyone in Netheril can work magic, milord. At least, everyone born and raised in the empire. It's… part of our being.'
'Magic. Can-truhs. Spit-guts.' Suddenly Sunbright felt as thick as an addled mule. And as out of place. 'I have a lot to learn.'
The girls nodded absently. One unbraided his horsetail to gently comb out sticks and specks. The other plied a washcloth soft as bird down to scrub wood smoke and blood from his face. Surrendering, Sunbright laid his head back on the tub rim and let the girls scrub him. Their quiet competence and dark hair again reminded him of Greenwillow and brought a fresh pang of loneliness. She would never have mocked his ignorance.
He sighed aloud. 'So much to learn.'
