Benjamin Ashwood by AC Cobble

rooms this evening?  Baths? 
Dinner?  How many nights will you be with us?”
    “Yes,
yes, all of that Master Cranston.  We’ll likely be here a few days.”  Towaal
calmly answered the innkeeper.
    “Sauza!”
he barked, “show the ladies to two front rooms and have Zin prepare the baths. 
This way sirs, this way.”
    Rhys
shared a grin with Ben and they followed the efficient seeming Cranston up the
stairs towards the street side of the building while a girl appeared and took
the girls deeper into the inn.  Ben realized the ‘front’ of the building must
actually be on the water. 
    The
place exuded a sense of age and wealth.  The walls were painted a deep crimson
that matched the colors the staff was wearing and the steps were well made but
worn.  There was a rich paneling of some type of wood framing the crimson
walls.  Ben did not recognize the wood, but he could tell at a glance the
candles ensconced along the hallway were expensive.  They gave off a pleasant
scent of oil and sandalwood.  He was thankful he could share a room with the
other men and Towaal hadn’t asked him to chip in.  He wasn’t sure if his coin
would get him more than a night or two in this place.
    The
room itself was snug but comfortable looking and they barely had time to set
down their gear before Cranston disappeared and returned to take them to the
baths.  He dropped them off and vanished again.  In the bathing room there was
a series of large copper tubs.  Three of them were filled to the brim with
steaming hot water.
    Rhys
was first to strip down and gave a big sigh as he lowered himself in.  “There
are at least a few things they do right in Fabrizo.  Enjoy it boys.  We’ve
still got a ways to go and it’s not all going to be as nice as this.”
    Saala
paused to collect a towel and bar of soap off a rack at the side of the room
and plunged into his own tub, dunking his head under the water and coming up
grinning.  Beads of water rolled off his shaved scalp.
    Ben
noticed a complicated system of pipes and valves leading from the tubs to a tank
and stove in the corner then back into the wall.  He’d never heard of anything
like this but decided they must somehow heat the water with the stove and pump
it into the baths.  He was walking over to investigate and considering the
possibilities to adapting this system to brew beer when Saala splashed and sent
a sheet of water his direction.  “Rhys is right, get in.”
     
    Rhys
quickly called for chilled wine and the men emptied a pitcher before they
finished bathing.  Over the billowing steam from the baths, they discussed the
next stages of the journey.  From Fabrizo, they would book passage on a ship to
travel across the Blood Bay to the city of Whitehall.  Saala thought it may
take a few days to find passage as tensions were rising between the two cities.
    King
Argren of Whitehall was raising pressure on the leaders of Fabrizo to join his
Alliance of Nations.  Publicly, King Argren said it was to counterbalance the
power of The Coalition that had formed in the east.  But Saala explained rumors
were flying that it was merely a naked power grab by the King.  Fabrizo, unlike
the other powerful cities along the Blood Bay, was ruled by the Merchant’s
Guild and because their power base was commercial instead of political, they
saw no reason to join The Alliance.
    “And
why would they bow to Argren?  He’s got the armies but they’ve got the money,”
snorted Rhys.  “They’d be fools to join him.”
    Saala
gave Rhys a meaningful look, “some of our party may not feel that way.”
    “Oh,
I know what she’s about.  There’s a reason they sent Towaal all the way out to
get her.  It’s a dangerous game her father’s playing.”
    “I
don’t think her father’s the only one playing games.”
    Rhys
chuckled and sunk lower into his bath.  “You may be right there.  I say we
leave them to their games.  I’m for gold, girls and grog.”  He sloshed