The Bloodbaths | Page 4

up dry, but it might be better to absorb the expense.
Restia is a new market." He brushed the bastianae flowers with his foot.
The thirsty little blossoms grew dense in a thirty yard span around them.
Weeks before, he and his assistants had scattered the seeds across the
hill. The flowers grew quickly when their roots found water, even deep
in the ground. Along with some knowledge of geology, they were the
Guild's own fragrant dowsing rod.
The Water Artesans Guild of Rond had little competition, but what did
exist thrived in new markets like Restia: renegade Guild members,
independents, even the shadowy contractors who courted favor with the
dowsers. Anyone who thought they could save money by sidestepping
the Guild usually came to regret their parsimony; they would pay far
more to the Guild for repairs than the Guild would charge them for
doing the job once the right way. Still, money thus spent was money
lost to the Guild, and Crixus wanted to secure Restia for the Guild--and
not merely out of loyalty or ambition.
"Pack up. We have six other estates to evaluate. Hopefully, we'll get to
the clients before the shamans do." There was time left before dusk,
enough to arrange meetings with planners and rich noblemen--or at

least start the lengthy process.
The three Artesans bound the unused stakes with the remaining twine
and stuffed them into canvas packs with sturdy shoulder straps. Crixus
rolled the shovels and augers in a blanket. The tools weighed plenty,
more than Stamm or Gavri could haul, but Crixus had no difficulty
with the load. His father and his father's father had been giants; a
lifetime of physical labor had made him strong. And luckily their cart
was close, parked on the road at the base of the hill.
Emerging from the stand of trees, they spotted the shaman and his
entourage with Stada and his own servants, making preparations for a
blessing ceremony.
Stada would get his personal aqueduct despite the shaman's
interference. Restia's water supply flowed in from a mountain lake,
through a rickety concrete aqueduct that had developed cracks from
expansion due to temperature changes. As a result, sediment and
minerals entered the water during its journey through the tunnel system.
Once the arcades were reached, a third of the water spilled out of the
cracks; animals used it for bathing as they would a natural waterfall.
The water that did arrive in the little coastal city was potable but not
clean, and certainly not to the standards expected by the landed nobility
of Rond's large cities.
They could have all saved thousands of sestrices by contributing to the
repair and upgrade of the main aqueduct, and thereby won the hearts of
the local population. Instead, they brought their snobbishness with
them, so Restia would become an outlying suburb of Greater Rond.
Their money--and elitism--would put local laborers to work for years.
At least the local economy would pick everyone up, to some small
degree.
The cart and donkey stood untouched. Lawlessness had not yet found
Restia, aside for the docks. That would change with the new road.
The thought caused Crixus a pang of regret as they loaded the cart and
watered the donkey. He would never experience life in Restia as it had

been--as Kharrina had experienced it.
He flipped his sestric to Stamm, who caught it and winked. It would be
spent on ale before nightfall. Thinking of Kharrina's wry smile, Crixus
led the donkey back into town.

2. The Future
The rest of the afternoon sped by in a blur of letter writing, sealing and
dispatching. Crixus expected no response from his prospects tomorrow,
or even the next day, but that did not trouble him. He would have more
time to spend with Kharrina; his chest stirred at the thought. He wrote
faster as the day drew to a close, in anticipation of dusk, when she was
released from work.
Gavri smiled at his restlessness but made no comment about his boyish
behavior. Still, as the sun fell beneath the clouds, she took the
parchment out of his hands. "I can seal these, ser. You should go relax."
"There's still much to do." Crixus fidgeted with the quill.
"You've already given me directions. Besides," she said with a grin,
"should you not test the plumbing of the bathhouse? A bath, and a
shave, would be most instructive."
Crixus' brow furrowed as he tried to see how a bath would be
considered work. Gavri's smile gave her away. "Oh, aha."
"A lady likes her suitor to be fresh," Gavri said.
"I'm picking her up at her father's print shop," he said, setting down the
quill at last and standing. "Is it fair to arrive as