Chapter VI: The Bath Cellar

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SONG OF POWER

CHAPTER VI:  THE BATH CELLAR 

The bath cellar was situated beneath the Liquid Chicken.  It was a hot-room with six large brass tubs arranged about its perimeter.  Intricate tile work on the walls told the whimsical story of a creature of elemental water that looked like nothing so much as a rooster—a “liquid chicken”—searching for love among normal hens.  Towels were set on a central table, and simple white gowns were folded on the table by the towels:  clearly, the Liquid Chicken featured advanced hospitality.  The gnome that led the group into the bath grabbed a wicker basket from the corner and set it down at the edge of the table.

“Is for your garments.  We’ll have ‘em cleaned up right nice for you, an’ bring ‘em back to y’all later.  The gowns on the table will be warm and comfortable for you tonight.  That was some right fine dancing, my oh my.  Ahem, if you need anything further, ring the bell on the wall, just here,” the gnome curtsied and left the room, closing the door behind her to give the married group privacy.  When she was gone, the four stood, staring at each other.  Four of the bathtubs had steam rising up from their rose-scented waters; Rowena nervously eyed the nearest one.

“We are wed, so why the hesitation?  You people are silly,” Tyroce said, looking at the others as she untied her mamillare.

“We’re not really married,” disagreed Ninthalsaya.

“Apologies, love, but you are quite mistaken,” said Tyroce sweetly.

“Actually, w-w-we are m-m-married to each other,” supplied Rowena.

“That ceremony doesn’t bind! You…you’re not even from Cyen! And you said it yourself that Cyen was destroyed and its last remaining villagers scattered to the four winds!” Ninthalsaya argued.

“The ceremony does not bind?  I may be of a storied background, but who are you to decide what acts of the deities do or do not hold weight?  A priest of the Risen Gods held a sanctified ceremony that wed us all together; we are Cipher’s Covey.  If that priest be now dead and your village be now razed, the Risen Gods remain to bear witness! Therefore the ceremony still holds.  Unless some foul fate has befallen the gods?” Tyroce replied, raising her arms as if to beseech the Risen Gods to agree with her.

I didn’t kiss him,” retorted Ninthalsaya, folding her arms triumphantly.  Tyroce’s ruby eye passed a mischievous thought to Cipher’s silver ones.  “Don’t even think about it,” Ninthalsaya warned Cipher.

“I am not going to argue on my wedding night, but I am going to enjoy this bath.  If you are uncomfortable, turn away until I am in the water; as a married group, I think we can grant each other that simple—if unnecessary—courtesy.  However, I would much rather you did not,” Tyroce said, dropping the leather strap she wore to grant her huge bosoms some modesty.  With her toe she kicked the bell-studded garment deftly into the wicker basket.

“Y-y-yes,” Rowena agreed, speaking softly.  She turned away and began to undress, though her eyes unconsciously strayed in Tyroce’s direction.  Ninthalsaya shrugged and turned her back, quickly doffing her gypsy clothes and tossing them over her shoulder in the general direction of the basket.  The witch hastened into the tub and sat low in the water.

Cipher sheepishly averted his gaze and he, too, stripped for his bath.  Once they were all in their tubs, they were free to look at each other again with the high brass basins granting them privacy.  Rowena surprised them all with a sudden fit of laughter.

“What is so humorous?” demanded Ninthalsaya, still slightly uncomfortable with being naked in a room with spouses she never intended to be wed to.

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