Chapter Fifteen - "Steam and Scent"

Eder stops in mid ascent, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. This sixth sense has warned him of potential danger on many occasions, of being tracked; of being watched from a shadowed alleyway or a stand of trees. No point in looking around, of revealing his awareness, he leans down to adjust an imagined chafing of his boot. Continuing up to the second floor, he habitually tests the flooring for creaks and enters his room.

Simple, sparse ..yes, comfortable certainly ; a washstand with basin; a plain table, old but serviceable; two chairs, one with a small wedge under a leg slightly shorter than the others to improve its balance; a curtained alcove with a reasonable pile of furs... a lamp of thalarion oil and a firepit with a metal plate base, surrounded by sand; a pile of small chopped logs and a bowl of kindling. He places his saddlebag in an iron-banded chest and sits at the table, running his grimy hands through dust- coated hair.

At the knock on the door he sits back, tipping the chair back, disturbing the small wedge. He calls permission to enter and smiles at the comical procession which comes through the opening .... Two burly kajirus, wearing rough woollen breeches, strain to carry a large tub of wood, apparently half a barrel of some description, fresh caulked. Hanging over the arm of one is a iron pot with curved, hooked handle which seems to be designed to fit over the metal bar cemented into the walls on either side of the firepit. This pair is closely followed by another pair carrying wooden buckets on yokes across their shoulders. The buckets steam and slop small amounts of water onto the floor as the slaves walk across the room, depositing the buckets to the side of the firepit. Apparently, this supply is from the large cistern in the kitchen area. The two barrel carriers bow and back from the room, followed by one of the bucket haulers, the second of whom tips the water from the buckets into the barrel. The iron pot is hung from the bar and filled with cool water from a large pitcher next to the washstand, and the slave bends to pile kindling on the fireplate, igniting it he blows it into life adding smaller pieces of wood, gently coaxing the small fire higher until the flames begin to lick at the base of the suspended pot. Not a word is spoken as the kajirus backs from the room, head bowed and closes the door behind him.

Impatient to luxuriate in the bath, Eder strips his dusty clothing, throwing each piece into a pile on the floor, small clouds of trail dust billowing as each item lands on top of the pile. Another tapping at the door, another call to enter.... As Eder moves closer to the table where his belt knife rests., the door opens again to a stranger sight. A pile of towels walks in on bare brown legs, followed by a smaller, whiter pair of ankles. The towels move serenely, but the white ankles trip over his discarded boots. A cry of surprise, a pitch forward, towels flying, soap bars bouncing across the floor, and Eder ducks as a scraping stick of polished wood hurtles in his direction....... He laughs.

A thin pale girl looks up at his chuckling, plain featured wearing a smock of the same coarse fabric as the kajirus, her eyes display a mixture of veiled amusement and fear, she reddens as she sees the Warrior, standing naked, her eyes look to the floor and at the pile of towels which appears to be suffering some sort of internal eruption. After a brief struggle another head pops free, framed in ruffled blonde hair, face equally red with shame and embarrassment. The kajira stammers an apology for the clumsiness of her entrance and adds tartly, shooting a venomous look at the thinner girl....

"Master, may a girl assist in removing the grime of the road, and might my sister take any items you wish to have cleaned ?"

Emerging fully from the nest of towels, the kajira glares balefully at her younger sister, who busily gathers up the dirty clothing and hurries away.... Closing the door her eyes catch those of the Warrior, she smiles shyly at his wide grin....

Eder turns to the tub and steps in, breathing through his teeth as the heat of the water pains his toes and sets his skin tingling. He half sits his shoulders sinking into the water, he closes his eyes in relaxation as the girl steps from her silks and begins to work her fingers into his neck and shoulders, easing the knots of tension, kneading the flesh, loosening the bunched muscles. Taking the soap she works a lather on the Warrior's arms using the scraping stick to clear and clean the skin. Continuing over his back and chest, the slave's body soon becomes almost as wet. Occasionally the girl stops to replenish the water with the supply of hot water from the pot over the fire. Eder drifts at the her gentle touch, eyes closed feeling the grime and tension leech away.

Interestingly and curiously, he realises that although pleasant in manner and appearance, she makes no attempt to offer anything other the a bath. As he rests on the furs, allowing the girl to work a scented oil into his skin, he passes a remark about her apparent shyness. Blushing again, she replies....

"Master, there are other girls, better trained, more experienced in pleasing a Master.....in time I hope to be able to serve in the Main Hall, but for now I may only do as I do now. The Masters of "The Silent Kajira" have clear rules about what a slave may or may not do. I am not permitted to overstep these bounds no matter how I may wish to do so."

Eder grunts his understanding, and relaxes again to the touch of her hands. Finally he sits by the fire, wrapped in warm towels as she untangles and brushes his hair.