A girl rested her head on each of his shoulders. He drowsed.
In time, they led him from the main bath to a cleansing pool. They used soaps and scrubs on every inch of him. The cold blonde did not seem particularly interested in winning a large tip.
The dark girl chuckled. She pointed out his physical response. 'More impressive than what these sad old men usually show us.' Thereafter, she paid it no special notice.
The erection had not yet subsided when the girls decided he was ready to leave the pool.
Almost immediately he found himself face-to-face with an unclad Osa Stile. Osa said, 'Oh, my my,' and continued shepherding a bony old man toward a cleansing pool. The dark girl laughed throatily. 'You've made a conquest.'
Else did not respond. Why was Osa Stile here? How had he become a bath attendant? Did Johannes Blackboots have a Principatй on his payroll?
Of course he did. Several, probably.
The girls took him into a small, fragrant room. They toweled him dry. The blonde told him, 'Lie down on the couch. Face down.'
She had an accent that was slight but definite. Firaldian was not her native tongue. The dark girl, though, might have been born in Brothe.
Else lay down on the leather couch. The girls began to massage him and rub him with oils.
His worries drifted away once more.
He was almost too loose to roll over when told to do so.
The girls chuckled over the continued proud glory of his manhood.
After more massaging and oiling, the girls slithered onto the couch beside him. Well oiled, their smooth skin moving on his felt better than the massage had. They slowed down gradually and snuggled up.
He dozed off.
Pinkus Ghort was waiting in Else's quarters when he returned. 'Sorry I'm late.'
'It's good to be one of the wheels, eh?'
'What?'
'I've heard about those baths.'
'Doubtless exaggerations that turned a lot worse once they had an opportunity to slither around inside your head.”
'Sure.' Ghort charged that one word with a hundredweight of cynical disbelief. 'What did you need?'
'Need?'
'You sent for me, brother. I didn't just drop in.'
'Oh. Yes. Sure. I need an adjutant. For the city regiment. You want the job?”
After a stunned silence, Ghort erupted. 'Shit, yeah! Aaron's fuzzy balls, Pipe! Why'd you even ask? Hey! Wait a minute. What's the fucking catch?'
'The catch is, you have to leave Principatй Doneto so you can take on more work than you've ever done in your whole damned life.'
'Shit I knew it. Work. Do I get to hang out in the baths?'
'No.'
'Worse and worse. Now you're going to ask me to work for free, too, for the experience.'
'I'm going to feed you. What more could you want?'
'Give me a minute, Pipe. I'll think of something. Hell. Here's an idea. How about a whole fucking bunch more money than I'm getting from Principate Doneto? Where, I might point out, I'm not having to do much of anything that even vaguely resembles work? For damned good pay.'
'Darn. I figured on keeping your salary for myself.'
'So bring me up to date. What're we doing? What do we still have to do?'
'Everything. I'm just getting started. Hacking my way through the politics. The people underwriting the city regiment behave like they're five years old. You're only the second man I've hired myself. They're making me take on dozens of complete idiots without ever consulting me. These Brothens don't understand what you're talking about if you mention merit or competence. A rock can be a general if it knows the right people. So I'm trying to sneak a few men that are predictable and competent under pressure.'
'I was second choice, huh? Who did you need more than me?'
'A nineteen-year-old miracle-working Deve accountant who knows how to get the most out of the money I'm given. He also finds thieves who try to rake off some of it for themselves.'
'He good?'
'So good he can screw you out of half your pay while you think you're getting rich.'
'Uh-oh.'
'I have a meeting coming up. I want you there.'
'Going to get my feet wet right away?'
'No. I want the Castella crowd and the tenants of this lunatic asylum to get used to you being around.'
'Where do I bunk?'
'Right where you're bunking now. It's not that long a walk. Let Principatй Doneto go right on thinking you're loyal to him. And since you might be, we'll let him go on picking up your room and board.'
'Eis's hairy ass, you're cheap.'
'That's how I plan to build myself an efficient little army.'
'By squeezing every ducat?'
'Until the Patriarch on it squeaks.'
Else regretted bringing Pinkus Ghort ten minutes after entering the planning room in the Castella. Ghort took one look at the great, inverted map of Calzir and its environs and blurted, 'Shit, Pipe! Look at that. We got them assholes by the nuts.'
Silence fell. Twenty pairs of eyes concentrated On Pinkus Ghort. One pair belonged to Ferris Renfrow.
The snake had its head out of the egg. Else could see no way to cover up what ought to have been obvious to anyone not trapped inside centuries of traditional strategy, anyway.
'Uhm?' Did Ghort see it?
'Did that fleet of King Peter's sail yet? Did the troops from the Connec start marching yet?'
Ghort saw it.
'I don't think so. Why?' He had to ask.
'Yes,' Ferris Renfrow said, over Else's left shoulder. 'Clue us in, Captain Ghort.'
Members of the Collegium and a couple of Hansel's top planners all clumped together, drawn by Ghort's enthusiasm.
'It looks like your plan is just to punch through the mountains and go after the castles and cities. Same as if you were going after any other Firaldian principality. Same for the last four or five times somebody tried.'
An imperial staffer pointed out, 'Cities and castles are where the wealth and nobility are.'
'Sure. But not the food, dear heart. Not the food! Tell him, Pipe.'
The son of a dog. 'I think I see. Mainland Calzir is heavily dependent on bread. But wheat doesn't grow well there. It does flourish over here, on Shippen. Shippen’s fecundity was one reason the ancient Brothens occupied the island.'
'Exactly!' Ghort enthused. 'Wheat and silver mines.'
'Explain more clearly, please,' one of the Imperials said.
'Eighty percent of the people live on the mainland. They raise wine grapes, olives, and sheep. Most of the grain is grown on the island. Across the Strait of Rhype. Now, we have a sizable Direcian fleet up here, going to head this way. It can cut off help from the western Pramans. The fleet could pick up the Connecten contingent as it follows the coast. Those troops could land on Shippen. They could stop any grain from getting to the mainland. Which means no bread on the mainland. Where they have lots of extra soldiers, sailors, and animals from Lucidia and Dreanger to feed.'
Ghort preened, smug with good reason. 'How long can these assholes over here eat grapes and olives and
