Chapter Twenty-Two - Bathing and Relaxing

The bathrooms in the Centre Inn were nice. Decently big rooms, just above the kitchens. With warm floors and air that wasn’t hot or chilly. In the centre of the room was a big brass tub, with a few buckets filled with steaming water around it. A rack to the side had soap and shampoo and a little mirror.

A bigger mirror covered one wall, floor to ceiling, like what I’d imagine a princess would have in her chambers.

I locked the door, then glanced around to make sure I was really private.

The first thing I did was place my rifle on the ground, far side of the tub. Then I pulled one of the chairs over to be closer to the bath and sat my revolver atop it. Only then did I stand in front of the mirror to start undressing.

My hat I hooked on the back of a chair, my duster I flung onto a spike on the nearest wall. Then I undid my belt while stepping on the toes of my boots to remove them.

The Centre Inn shifted, the building creaking as a heavy wind pushed at it, and I paused to listen. The storm was starting. Nomads were right.

I dropped my pants, then unbuttoned my shirts and flung that to the side too. I had a satchel with some spare things that I’d grabbed from Rusty. Didn’t make no sense to wash up and get back into the same clothes I’d worn all week.

Licking my lips, I looked up and into the mirror.

I was... me. I moved my arms and hands, fingers grasping at nothing. It felt weird to see myself, skin turned darker by a thin layer of sand that had stuck to me, eyes bright when not shaded by my hat.

It always made me wonder about what could be when I was like this, vulnerable. Just Charlie, without Rusty wrapped around her, without a gun in hand or on hip.

My mother had wanted me to be a simple sort of woman. Find a beau in the village, get married and pop out a few brats. She’d loved that kind of life. Up until the very end. Fat lot of good it did her.

She’d have been horrified at the scars I had, the big bruise on my side I’d probably gotten when Rusty fell a couple of days back. Most of all at the freckle-like pin-pricks all across my right-side collar.

I shifted this way and that, cracking my spine and neck, enjoying the cool against bare skin.

Didn’t have that much time to waste though, the water’d get cold, and I only had the room for an hour or so.

I knelt down next to one of the buckets, on a mat of padded cloth and towels. There was a scrubbing brush in it, with a long tin handle. I grabbed it, sniffed the water to see if it was soapy, then started to brush myself down. Dip, brush a bit, dip again for more water. I winced as it rubbed my skin raw, especially where it was a little more sensitive.

When I felt like I’d been sand-blasted, I grabbed a towel and dried myself off, then I started to fill the bath.

When the water was high enough, I slid a foot down, then the other before lowering myself in.

The back of my head fell back onto the high-back of the tub and I let out a long sigh as I floated there. Idly, I grabbed the shampoo and bent forward to work it into my hair, then I ducked down to rinse it off.

After that, I had myself an enjoyable time with the bar of rough soap left next to the bath. The wind hummed around the inn, singing a soothing song of storms, punctuated with the rumble of distant thunder.

I’d say something trite, like it made me feel human again, but then, being dirty was pretty damned human to begin with.

I finished and tossed the bar of soap into its little basket before resting my head back again, wet hair sticking to my neck and collar. I’d need to get a knife to my hair again soon. I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the water seeping the strength out of me. I was sure my toes would be wrinkled soon. One hell of a luxury, but then, maybe I’d earned it.

Luck had been on my side lately.

Then the door was kicked open.

I swiped my hand out, grabbed my revolver by its middle, flipped it over and caught it by the handle to aim it at the door. I pulled the trigger and winced at the recoil. Wet hands, holding the gun at a strange angle, all amounting to it not being the greatest shot I’d ever taken.

The person in the doorframe stumbled back, their hat flying off their head even as they fell out of the room.

I stood up and stepped out of the bath, placing it between my and the intruder. “If you want a peek, I’m in full view,” I said. “Just stick your head back in. Real slow-like.” I cocked the hammer for emphasis and brought my revolver up.

“Miss Charlie?”

I lowered the gun a little. “Clin?” I asked.

The elf slowly moved his head in. He had his little gnomish hat in hand, a big hole blown through it. He looked a bit shell-shocked, which was fair, given he’d almost eaten a bullet. “Ah, hello?”

I stood up taller. “What were you thinking?” I asked.

Did he think I’d be up for a little fun? I might’ve thought him a little attractive, for an elf, but I wasn’t into men that imposed themselves where they weren’t wanted. Didn’t figure Clin for that sort though.

The elf stepped in, spun, closed the door, then froze up when he stared my way. I felt a tingle down my spine as he stared. His eyes rose, and met mine. “Ten gold,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“For the view.”

“Ten gold?” he repeated.

I spun my revolver once. “Turn around now, or it’ll be twenty.”

He faced the far wall in a hurry. “Please! Please, I apologize. I didn’t know what to do, and I knew you were in this room.”

“In this bathroom. In a bath. Enjoying myself. Didn’t you consider knocking, maybe?”

“I was trying to be inconspicuous.”

I blinked. “I shot at you. In a building. Surprised no one’s come to see what’s goin’ on yet.”

As if on cue, someone knocked on the door. “Charlie?” Juvenal asked.

“Yeah,” I called back.

“You alright?”

“Some fidiot interrupted my bath,” I said.

“...Did you kill him?”

“Nah, he’s here, and alive,” I replied.

“If you use the bathroom to sate your intimate desires, that’s an extra silver,” he said.

I scoffed. “How much to dispose of a body?”

“Two silver.”

“Thanks, Juvenal, I’m good.”

“Alright. Charging you two silver for the hole in my wall by the way,” came the bartender’s reply. I heard the floor creak faintly as he walked off.

I shifted, water still dripping down me, and I was starting to fill a bit of a chill. The room groaned as the wind battered the walls. “So, care to explain yourself?”

Clin nodded, started to turn, then snapped back to facing the wall. His ears practically glowed. “Gnomes. An entire troop of them just arrived from out of the storm. They just parked out back.”

“Sounds like an awful problem you’ve got there,” I said. “Emphasis on the you.”

“They started putting up bounty posters,” he said.

“How much?” I asked.

The elf started to turn again, then stopped. “Why do you want to know that?”

“Professional curiosity?” I tried. “I ain’t feeling mighty charitable about you right now, as you may imagine.”

Clin swallowed. “It’s three thousand gold,” he said. “I’ll give you the same amount.”

“For interupting my bath-time?” I asked.

“To escort me.”

“How far?”

“Lunastrum.”

“No,” I said. “Too damned far, and I’ve never gone that far east.”

“Then to the Drywall, at least.”

I considered it. “You know, I could escort you downstairs for that same amount. A whole lot less work for me.”

“I thought you were an honest sort of woman?”

“Whomever said that about me’s a bold-faced liar. I do what I’m paid for, I respect my contracts, and I know the rules of the desert. That’s where my honesty stops.”

Clin took a deep breath. “Eight thousand,” he replied.

I grinned, not that he could see it. “Ten thousand. And I’ll even pretend that you didn’t stare at my chest as if you hadn’t seen one since you stopped nibbling at your mother.”

“Deal,” he said.

“Right,” I replied. “Now see that dirty shirt on the floor? Yeah, wrap it around your head. I want to get dressed, and my rates for fidiots that ogle me have gone up dramatically.”

***