The Bloodbaths | Page 7

bringing eunuchs and
incense."
"I can be your dancing girl."
"Oh, no! I don't intend to share you at all." Crixus took her arm back,
pulling her close. "Though you would be a sight for sore eyes after
treating with these wrinkly old men all day."
"Yet we're going to the public baths? You're a glutton for punishment."

"I doubt I'll spend much time staring at them." He winked at her.
"You're full of lies and contradictions." Kharrina nestled against him as
they approached the bathhouse.
"Like Anoxiae the trickster. I'll steal your liver and replace it with a
stone."
The Restia bathhouse compared favorably to common bathhouses in
Greater Rond. Crixus paid their entry fee of two coptrices to an elderly
woman who handed them linen robes and wooden sandals to protect
against the heated floors. Crixus paused to thrust a hand under the
lion-headed fountain in the façade, playing with the water pressure until
Kharrina hustled him inside.
They separated to go to the dressing rooms. The men's dressing room
stank of sweat and dirt from the laborers thronging the tiny clothes
lockers. Crixus found one on the end of the aisle, stripped, and draped
his robe over his arm.
He stepped into the caldarium to wash himself. The attendant, a boy in
a loincloth, handed him soap and a brush. A shallow pool of hot water
lined with buckets steamed up the room. He felt his sinuses clear, his
pores open to the hot mist. Crixus soaped up, scrubbed his skin with the
brush, and rinsed off with a bucket of stinging hot water. Holes in the
floor drained away the waste water. He watched the water swirl around
the drain and guessed that they had not broken up the mineral deposits
in years, if at all. He made a mental note to add that to the list when he
approached the city about renovating this bathhouse.
Clean and tingly, he collected his robe and entered the frigidarium, a
wide room sporting a raised octagonal pool. A quick dip in the chill
waters set his heart racing. The water had an organic taste, as though
plant roots were leaching residue into the tunnels of the aqueduct. But
the locals in the pool splashed and laughed; they were accustomed to
the taste.
The tepidarium housed the largest pool in the modest bathhouse. The

grand bathhouses he frequented in Greater Rond took up several city
blocks and offered massive vaulted chambers, exercise fields, and
libraries. Those who could afford the time lounged away every
afternoon there. It was said that more business was done naked in the
tepidariums of Greater Rond than in the palace, and it wasn't meant as a
bawdy joke. This tepidarium, however, was strictly utilitarian,
non-segregated, with a submerged bench for reclining in the lukewarm
water that ran off the two caldarii. Men, women, and children swam in
the four foot deep pool, but most sat and chattered away the evening.
The echoes off the tiled floor and walls turned the room into a festive
hall.
Kharrina had not yet finished in the women's caldarium. Intense
scrubbing was required to remove the layer of ink and grease from the
printing equipment. Crixus sprawled out in a corner away from the
splashing children and watched the bathers at play. Restians carried
themselves with a languid ease compared to the urban residents of
Greater Rond. Less was at stake in the quiet town, a quality he feared
would be lost with the influx of investment.
Crixus brought Gavri and Stamm to Restia to begin the process of
estimating aqueduct and plumbing contracts for the new estates
springing up like weeds. His Guild masters entrusted him with a new
territory, a sign that they were grooming him for a leadership role. The
responsibility had overwhelmed him at first, but he resolved to rise to
the challenge. The task would surely prove to be a turning point for him.
Success would lead to everything he wanted: a home, a wife, a family,
wealth. Failure would similarly lead him down a path--one marked by
frustration and resignation. It was not an option; nor was it what his
father had taught him.
Fifteen minutes later, Kharrina strolled into the tepidarium, looking for
Crixus. She wrapped the towel around herself but let her hair remain
wet, pushed out of her face and falling in sheets to her shoulders. He
waved her over to the corner where the children had not yet intruded.
"Forgive me, Crixus." She doffed the robe and lowered herself onto the
sunken bench beside him. The sight of her slender frame gave him a

salacious thrill, even in a socially neutral place like the bathhouse.
"Every day it gets grimier and grimier in papa's shop."