"When will they be ready?" Elsa asked.
"I can have them for you tomorrow morning," he replied.
"Very good. Come along, Tarrin, we'll get you clean."
They went down into a basement, and he was quite surprised. In the basement was a huge pool of water, one end of it steaming, and it was occupied by a surprising number of people who were bathing. Both men and women. There were many chairs set around the bathing pool which were filled with clothing and towels, and there were several Novices scurrying about tending the baths. The water smelled heavy to his nose, and he realized that it was minerals in the water, the minerals of a natural hot spring. A most ingenious way to build a communal bath and keep the water hot.
"Surprised?" she asked.
"A bit, ma'am," he responded.
"There's just the one pool, and since we all don't have the same hours, it would be impossible to divide the time. Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It takes some people longer than others, but you will. Everyone uses this pool. You, me, the Novices, Initiates, Sorcerers, guards, servants, and visitors. Even the Keeper herself bathes here."
Tarrin felt absolutely no reservations about undressing, he realized. The time with Jesmind had indeed changed him, in more ways than one. Or maybe the time with her had allowed him to come more into contact with the Cat within him. Either way, he realized soberly in that instant that he was changing, he was adapting to his Cat instincts. And, in some ways, they were starting to have a serious influence on his views and mannerisms.
He unbelted the robe immediately, and pulled it off his shoulders, then draped it over the back of a chair. She laughed richly. "That didn't take very long," she said as he stood beside her nude.
"I'm not human, Mistress Elsa," he reminded her gently. "My idea of modesty isn't the same as yours."
"Point taken," she acceded. "Is there anything else I should know? Anything special you'll need?"
"No," he replied. "I don't need anything special, ma'am. My blood is dangerous to humans, but let me be the one to worry about that problem."
"Yes, you would be the best to deal with it," she agreed. "And telling everyone that you're contagious may not endear them to you."
"I can do without that added stress, ma'am," he told her, giving the hot water a longing look.
"I'll leave you to your bath now," she told him. "I'll send someone to take you back to your room."
"I can make it back on my own, ma'am," he replied.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive, ma'am," he said. "I can find it. I'd like to walk around and see things after the bath, anyway."
"Alright then," she said. "Just don't get lost."
"No chance of that, ma'am," he told her. "I can follow my own scent trail back if I don't know where I am."
"Your nose is that sensitive?"
He nodded.
"Interesting. Have a good bath. Don't get waterlogged."
She left him as he lowered himself immediately into the water. It was tepid, and he discovered that it got hotter as one moved towards the far end of the pool. He waded in the waist deep water until he reached a delightfully hot temperature, then picked up a cake of soap that was sitting on a tray between the outer and the inner lip of the pool. He saw that there were two edges to the pool, the upper one and a lower one near the water level, that was just below the surface of the water. The water poured over that edge in a very thin stream, then was channeled away to a drain that removed the excess. He noted that that skimmed the soap foam and dirt out of the water and carried it away, keeping the water clean for other bathers. A very clever design.
He scrubbed at himself for a very long time, washing over twenty days of dirt and sweat and leaves and bark and all other manner of things off his skin and out of his fur. It was a bit hard to get at his tail, but he managed to scrub the formidable dirt out of it and comb out the mats with his claws. He unbound his hair and washed it thoroughly, watching as dirt and bits of bark and leaves, and a couple of dead flies and mosquitos, washed out of his hair and were carried away by the gentle flow towards the edge. He climbed up onto the edge of the pool to thorougly soap down and lather the dirt out of the fur on his legs, then he combed the mats out after dropping back into the water to rinse.
During the bath, he'd come to realize how thin he'd gotten. His ribs stuck out like bare branches, and every muscle he had was visible to the eye as he moved. The heavy meal had done wonders for him, though, and he could literally feel how much weight he'd gained since then. He suspected that it was the semi-magical power of regeneration that Jesmind said they possessed at work there, using the food he'd eaten to quickly put meat back on his bones. He was already hungry again. He was going to have to find out if he could get more to eat. He had the idea that if he ate heavily for a day or so, his regenerative ability would flesh him back out in almost no time.
He felt like an entirely new person when he climbed out of the water and shook much of the water out of his fur. He was clean, warm, safe, secure, and he would soon be full. The trials of the journey to Suld were quickly fading into his memories. He felt the eyes on him, but unlike the sensation he'd felt when he was on the run, he didn't mind these eyes. Some of them were in fear, but the look on one blond woman who was in the bathing pool was one of appreciation, not fear. Jesmind's prediction that he would come to not mind being nude in the presence of others had come to pass, he knew. The Cat had taken that much of a hold on his mind. And he found that he welcomed it.
He took a towel from an edgy Novice girl and dried himself off, then sat down on a chair, nude, and tried futilely to try to braid his hair back up. His huge paws made the task extremely difficult, and he came close to using his claws to shear it off more than once. He knew how futile that would be. It would grow back in a matter of hours, and may end up growing back longer than it was now. He didn't want to risk that. Having it three quarters of the way down his back was more than long enough.
"You look like you could use some help," a voice called.
He looked up. It was the blond woman who'd been in the pool, with a towel wrapped around herself. Her face was young and very pretty, with deep blue eyes that sparkled in the light and the classic high-cheekboned, delicate face that made Draconian women famous for their beauty. Her common mode of speech marked her as a Tykini, from the breakaway kingdom of Tykarthia. "I do have trouble with it," he admitted.
"Here, let me," she said. She went around behind the chair, and he felt her take up his damp hair in her hands. "Why do you grow it so long?" she asked.
"Because it just grows back," he replied.
"Hair this long must have taken you years," she noted, starting to pull his hair into sections for braiding.
"No, hours," he told her.
"Really?"
"It's racial," he said delicately.
"Ah," she sounded. He could feel her hands swiftly begin to intertwine his hair into a single thick braid.
"You're good at this," he noted.
"I have five sisters, and braids are a very common hairstyle in Tykarthia," she said. "Not as popular as they are in Tor, but popular enough. Have you ever seen a Torian woman?"
"No."
"They put their hair into as many tiny little braids as they can," she told him. "Sometimes they weave beads into the ends. I shudder to think of how long that takes."
"They must have alot of time on their hands," he noted.
"Truly," she agreed. "My name is Jula," she introduced.
"I'm Tarrin," he responded.
"You're visiting?"
"Actually, I'm supposed to enter the Novitiate," he told her.
She laughed. "Then I'd best not let too many people see this," she told him. "I'm katzh-dashi. If they see me braiding the hair of Novices, I'll never hear the end of it."