They took two rooms. Valsavis took the most expensive one they had, while Sorak and Ryana settled for one that was slightly cheaper. Theirs was on the first floor, Valsavis had his room up on the second. If he was bothered by this separation, which would render it difficult for him to keep an eye on them, he did not show it.
“I, for one, am going to enjoy a long bath and a massage,” he said. “And then I will see about my dinner. What plans do you two have?”
“I thought we would rest after our journey,” Sorak said.
“And a bath sounds wonderful,” Ryana added. “Would you care to join me for dinner?” asked Valsavis. “And afterward, perhaps, we can tour some of the gaming houses.”
“Why not?” said Sorak. “What time should we meet?”
“There is no reason to hurry,” said Valsavis. “Take your time. Salt View never closes. Why not meet in the lobby at sundown?”
“Sundown, then,” said Sorak. They went their separate ways to their rooms. Sorak and Ryana’s room was floored with red ceramic tile and had a large, arched window looking out onto the garden. There were two big, comfortable beds with ornate headboards carved from agafari wood and cushioned furniture fashioned by master craftsmen from pagafa wood inlaid with contrasting agafari pieces. A woven rug was on the floor, and there were braziers and oil lamps for light. The ceiling was planked, with wooden beams running across it. It was a room fit for an aristocrat. The baths were located on the ground floor, in the rear of the building. After leaving their cloaks and packs in their room, they went down to bathe, taking their weapons with them. Neither Sorak nor Ryana were about to leave them unattended.
The cavernous baths were heated by fires stoked beneath the floor, and it felt wonderful to soak in them as the steam rose from the water. On a desert planet, where water was so scarce and precious, this was an unimagined luxury and one of the main reasons why the rooms here were so expensive. It was the first time since they had left the grotto in the Stony Barrens dial they had a chance to wash the dirt of their journey away. They did not see Valsavis, but there were private chambers located at the far end of the baths, through several small archways, where those clients who had paid for the best rooms could enjoy a superior class of service, with beautiful, naked young attendants to scrub their backs and wash their hair and perform any other services that they might have in mind, for certain additional fees, of course.
“Mmm,” Ryana sighed with contentment as she lay back on the tiled step in water up to her neck. “I could get used to this.”
“I much prefer to bathe in the bracing, cold waters of a desert spring or mountain stream,” said Sorak with a grimace. “It is unnatural to bathe in heated water.”
“Perhaps,” Ryana said, “but it feels soooo good!” Sorak snorted. “All this water,” he said, “delivered here by aqueducts and heated by fires underneath the floor .. . Even in the largest cities, most people have to wash from buckets they must draw from public wells and carry back to their homes.” He shook his head. “I feel like some pampered and decadent aristocrat. And I must say, I do not at all care for the feeling.”
“Relax and enjoy it, Sorak,” said Ryana. “We are paying dearly for the privilege. And after the way those misbegotten, flea-bitten marauders treated me, I enjoy thinking that the sale of their goods and belongings paid for all of this.”
“We did not come here to luxuriate in hot baths and quarters fit for a templar,” Sorak said. “We came to find the Silent One.”
“There will be time enough for that,” Ryana said. “With Valsavis tagging along with us?” Sorak said. “What difference does it make?” she asked. “He has no reason to prevent us from finding the Silent One. If he is merely a mercenary here to enjoy himself, as he claims, then he should not care what we do, one way or the other. But if he is an agent of the Shadow King, then it would be in his best interest that we find the druid, because, as you have pointed out yourself, he will want to follow us so that we may lead him to the Sage.”
“I will be very curious to see what he does when he discovers that we are bound for Bodach,” Sorak said.
Ryana shrugged. “If he offers to come with us, then we will have all the more reason to suspect his motives.”
“Yes, but it will still not prove them conclusively,” Sorak said. “He might simply be tempted by the treasure of the ancient city.”
“As you said before,” Ryana replied, “there is nothing we can do about Valsavis for the moment. And we may be suspecting him unjustly. We shall simply have to wait and see what he will do.”
“Yes, but I do not like not knowing,” Sorak said.
“Nor do I,” Ryana replied, “but worrying about it will change nothing. Try to relax and enjoy yourself. We will not have such an opportunity again anytime soon, if ever.”
She leaned back into the water and sighed deeply with serene contentment. But Sorak kept staring at the archways in the rear, wondering what Valsavis really had on his mind.
Valsavis lay stretched out, naked on his stomach, upon thick towels laid on a wooden table while two beautiful young women worked on his muscular back and legs. They were skilled in their trade, and it felt good to have their strong fingers deeply probing his muscles, easing the soreness and the tension. He knew that he was in superb condition for a man of his age-for a man of any age, for that matter-but he was still not immune to the effects of time. He was no longer as flexible as he once was, and his muscles now developed lumps of tension far more frequently than they had when he was younger.
I am getting too old for this trade, he thought. Too old for chasing across the desert, too old for sleeping on the hard ground, and too tired for playing at intrigue. He had not expected to fall in with the elfling and the priestess as he had. His initial plan had been to follow them, at a distance, and then, to add some spice to the chase, allow them to discover that he was on their trail, so he could watch what they would try to do to shake him. However, a much more interesting opportunity had presented itself, and he had been quick to take advantage of it.
When he had first found the elfling lying on the ground with a crossbow bolt in his back, he had feared that he was dead. There had been no sign of the priestess, and it had not been difficult to guess what must have happened. A quick examination of the ground in the vicinity had immediately confirmed his guess. The two preservers had been ambushed, and the priestess had been taken. It might have ended there and then, but luckily, the elfling wasn’t dead. And when he realized that, Valsavis had quickly changed his plans.
Why not join them? Help the elfling trail the ambushers and rescue the priestess. That would place them in his debt and make it easier for them to trust him. He frowned thoughtfully as one of the girls started working on his massive arms while the other one massaged his feet. He may have succeeded in joining them, but he was not so sure that he had won their trust.
That night, when they had slept in the slain marauders’ camp, they had remained awake for a long time by the fire, talking softly. He could feel them staring at him. He had strained to hear what they were saying, but their voices were too low. Even so, he had studied people too long and too well not to pick up certain indications in their manner.
He felt reasonably sure now that they suspected him. To his knowledge, he had done nothing to give himself away but he was aware of it when the elfling had tried to probe his thoughts. It had felt, at first, like someone tugging very slightly at a string within his mind. He had still been a young man when he discovered that he was immune to psionic probes. Not even the Shadow King could do it, and he had tried, unsuccessfully, on a number of occasions. Of course, when Nibenay had tried it, he had been none too gentle, and the dragon king was strong. Valsavis well recalled how the experience had left his head throbbing for hours afterward. Perhaps it was one of the reasons Nibenay employed him. Even a master psionicist could not read his thoughts. Valsavis had no idea why this was so, but he was grateful for it. He did not like the idea of anyone being able to know what he was thinking. That sort of thing gave enemies an enormous advantage.