Taggert escorted Kelton and Yanda to the bathhouse in the morning. Kelton thought the start of the day was marvelous. Fruit and tea had been brought to their room for the morning meal, and Yanda was less concerned with washing since it was on the schedule. Still, she fiddled with his hair a bit, making sure the night hadn't destroyed the work from the day before. Kelton was getting used to her care. The irritation had faded, replaced with a sense of sharing. He sat, she worked and thought him the better for it. In truth, Kelton enjoyed that she enjoyed it.

"I knew another called Taggert," Kelton said as they crossed the property. "He is younger than you by many years. I used to play stones with him."

"Stones?" Taggert asked.

"It's a game played with smooth rocks. You toss them at a stick stuck in the dirt, trying to get them to lay up close. I got good at it, but Taggert had many more years of practice." Kelton smiled at the memory. He wondered how Rebecca and Taggert were doing on their farm.

"How were you not scared?" Taggert asked, his eyes roaming the ground as they walked.

"Of stones?"

"Nay, sorry. My mind is elsewhere," Taggert clarified. "On the road with the viners."

"I felt the same fear as you," Kelton replied. "Likely, Filgot felt it as well."

"He did not retreat." Taggert shook his head. "You came forward, and I could barely think. It was my job, and I could not move right." He shrugged. "Filgot says I need more training. I now fear they will let me go, as is their right."

"I believe fear is a good thing," Kelton said as his mind worked it out. "It is what brought me forward and what held Filgot in place. It is hard to know the best thing to do, but surrender or running didn't seem wise. The best place to be was near Filgot's sword. Mayhap, fear drove me toward him."

"I wanted to run," Taggert admitted. "I could not think right. Everything, everywhere, was weighing on me muddling what was right. There were too many." He shook his head again.

"It is best if you don't think of yourself in those times. It's the others that matter. Stand between them and the threat, and know it's better then them standing in front of you."

"How do you know it's better?"

"I...I..." Kelton stuttered at the question. He pursed his lips as his thoughts assembled. It came to him, why he always went forward. "I guess it's better to die than having to watch others die."

"Aye," Taggert said, drawing out the word. He stopped walking suddenly, and Yanda almost tripped over him. "It would be worse if it were your purpose and had to watch your failure."

"It would be," Kelton agreed. He laid his hand on the small of Yanda's back to let her know the stopping wasn't due to angry words. She smiled at him and waited.

"I wish I could do it over. Nay, I wish it never happened."

"Me too," Kelton said. Taggert began walking again.

"But you got two free days, and I am tasked guarding the bathhouse door."

"When the viners came, did it not make you feel sick?" Kelton asked.

"You too?"

"Aye, and I wish to not feel it again," Kelton said. Taggert smiled and picked up the pace. Kelton knew it felt better to understand the fear was shared. They came around a building near the stone fence that bordered the Tarvakian property. A door opened, and excited steam filled the cool air. From its midst, a woman appeared. It was Eveyin, though it took a moment for Kelton to recognize her. She had a cloth wrapping her hair which altered the way he remembered her.

"Eveyin, is it not?" Kelton asked. Taggert lost his smile. Eveyin's eyes dropped to the ground as if Kelton was someone to be feared.

"And you are Kelton." Eveyin's voice was quiet. Kelton had to listen hard to make out the words. "Master told me to be gone before you arrived. I am sorry."

"We are in no hurry," Kelton said. "You work in the main house, do you not?"

"And I must return to it before Master gets angry," Eveyin said and moved around them like they were diseased. Her pace increased once past and was gone before Kelton could broach another word.

"She is odd," Kelton remarked to Taggert.

"Aye," Taggert responded, then quickly changed the subject. "I will see to the cistern and make sure the fires are well tended. Then I will return here to guard the door." He too disappeared as if further conversation was toxic.

"It is strange," Kelton said as he opened to the bathhouse for Yanda. Steam escaped into the cool air. "It is as if the topic of Eveyin is not allowed. Mayhap, I am asking the wrong people." Yanda entered, oblivious to his words. Kelton followed and closed the door behind him. It took a moment to get used to the low light. There were only two lamps lit, and their flames were weak.

"She is not like you and me," Kelton continued. It didn't matter that Yanda couldn't understand the topic. It felt better to include her in his thoughts. "Or anyone else here. It is if she were under a dark cloud. Not sad, but detached from caring." He shrugged. "I guess it is not my place to question such things. Our Master has certainly proved himself in the care of others, like Beldin. Mayhap, I see things that are not there." He nodded. Yanda smiled and commiserated with a nod. She tapped his head, then ran her palm along his cheek. "Aye, I think too hard." She could sense his concern and knew it troubled his mind.

Taggert yelled from behind the door that everything was ready and their privacy assured. Kelton began undressing, his eyes finally adjusted to the steamy gloom. Yanda took the cue and disrobed as well. There was a bench near the wall with hooks for clothes above it. Next to this, a cabinet which, once inspected, held cloth for drying. There was a layer of steam being generated in the corner. A pipe through the wall was dripping water onto a brazer of heated rocks. The water sizzled and was released into the air. The small building was on the comfortable side of hot.

Yanda, naked, moved with an eye-catching grace toward a large tub set in the floor. There was a round basin, an arm's length wide, above the tub's end closest to the wall. Above it, two clay pipes stuck out from the wall, their ends capped by wood blocks that fit into notches. Yanda knew precisely what they were and lifted each block enough to let water flow into the basin, which overflowed and drained out a hole beyond the tub. One pipe released steaming water, the other produced normal water. She adjusted the blocks until the water was as she liked it, then tilted the basin, which sent the mixture into the tub. The bowl was mounted so that once set, it could direct the water unattended.

Kelton found the process intriguing. He decided to investigate outside, when they were done, to see how the cisterns were situated. Hot water on demand was luxury. No hauling of pots, and praying that the water didn't cool before the next one arrived. Yanda said a few words and directed him into the tub.

"I thought I was to wash your hair," Kelton said. Stronger words and anxious gestures made him give in. He shrugged and climbed into the large tub. The water was almost too hot, yet his skin soon found comfort in it and allowed him to sit as directed by Yanda. She smiled as he molded into the back of the tub. Muscles went lax, and the world's troubles faded in the encompassing heat.

Once filled, Yanda slowed the flow of the water to a trickle and climbed in. She snickered as she slid between Kelton's legs and laid her back against his chest. Taking his arms, she wrapped them around her, just below her breasts.

"I am nothing but a cushion," Kelton said when he realized what was happening. Yanda laughed as she lay her head back near his shoulder. Her body went limp. He smiled as she closed her eyes. He scooted deeper and let his neck lay against the large lip of the tub. It was the cell on the ship all over again. This time, enveloped in warm comfort. Her skin felt good against his, buoyancy lightening the touch. Kelton closed his eyes and let the heat of the water massage his soul.

Kelton woke from Yanda's gentle prodding. She was smiling and holding up her hand. The skin was wrinkled like a crogert, and his fingers were no different. He wasn't sure how long they had rested, but the water hadn't cooled. There was still a steady dripping of new hot water at the foot end of the tub, near the overflow notch. It was a simple but enjoyable system.

Yanda signaled for Kelton to exit the tub. When he did, she ducked her head under the water and pushed her hair behind her and out of her face. Kelton followed her pointing hand and located a soap bar on a small shelf. He climbed in behind her and began washing her hair.

Kelton adored the sounds Yanda made as he worked the soap into her scalp. There was power in the soft moans his hands could create. She liked when he put pressure at the top of her neck, behind the ears. She leaned into his fingers, and he teased her by stopping. Yanda looked back with pursed lips, and Kelton widened his eyes in innocence. She grunted, then smiled. A few soft words left her lips, and Kelton's fingers went back to work.

Though visual signs of the lesson still striped Yanda's back, they were no longer scabbed. Light colored skin covered them, strong enough that they could be ignored. Kelton assumed his back was in the same shape. Time would fade the marks, but much like his face, they would never entirely disappear.

Yanda's care for Kelton's hair was more functional than his attention to hers. She disassembled all of his braidings and scrubbed it clean. After a few dunks to clean out the soap, she sat behind him and carefully re-weaved the hair while it was wet. By the time they were done, Kelton was sure they were growing gills.

"They emerge," Filgot said as Kelton and Yanda exited the bathhouse.

"Where's Taggert?" Kelton asked.

"Gone to eat. Midday meal has started. Did you enjoy your bath?" Filgot raised and lowered his brow insinuating that he thought more than washing was going on.

"I think we're both very pleased," Kelton replied with a smile, glancing at Yanda. She picked up on the expressions and added her smile, then gave Kelton a quick kiss on the cheek. Yanda's quick mind didn't need to understand the language to continue the ruse of lovers. Kelton was proud of her.

"Good, then we should eat."

"Could I see the works for this building?" Kelton asked. "Where the water is heated and all."

"It's just the other side," Filgot said and pointed the way to the back of the building. "Not much to see. Just a few cisterns and a coal stove." They walked back and true to his words, there were three cisterns, the largest made of wood and looked like it could be opened to the rain. A copper was sitting idle, tending the stone stove that one of the smaller iron cisterns rested upon. Thick clay piping connected the three with the building. The ground was covered with chipped rock that handled the many small leaks in the system, as well as the overflow from inside.

"Good day," the copper said. He was a lanky fellow with a happy face.

"Good day," Kelton replied. "I thank you for the fine bath we had. We enjoyed the hot water." The copper acknowledged with a bow of his head.

"It takes some learning to keep the water hot and not scalding," the copper said. "Too hot and it removes skin. Too cold and master is upset." Kelton chuckled with the man.

"Those ropes," Kelton said, pointing at ropes that were looped over wheels that were attached to the top of the large cistern. "They are for barrels?"

"Aye," the copper replied. He seemed pleased that someone took an interest in his job. "When rain is lacking, we wagon in barrels from the stream and hoist them up. It's a tough job, but earns the ones doing it first bath."

"Ahh, a nice reward indeed," Kelton said. "Is that mined coal that is burning." He pointed at the stove. There was a red glow emanating from a few small chunks. It was working without a tall flame, like wood after the fire had gone out.

"Aye," the copper said, curiosity in his face.

"Don't have it where I'm from," Kelton said, clearing up the man's confusion. "Do you think I could have a piece?" The man looked at Filgot who shrugged and nodded his head.

"Aye." The copper reached into a bin off to the side and removed a black rock with a small iron shovel. "You have something to put it in? It will blacken your hands if you don't." Kelton meant to let it blacken, but Yanda pulled his hand away from the shovel. She signaled them to wait while she rattled off a few words that Kelton was sure meant he was an idiot. Yanda disappeared back into the bathhouse.

"She doesn't like you dirty," the copper pointed out, then shared a laugh with Filgot. Motherly was what it was, and Kelton was beginning to think it overdone.

"It's a good thing," Filgot said when he saw Kelton's tight lips. "It would be bad if she didn't care how you looked."

"Aye," the copper agreed as he struggled to contain his chuckle. Yanda returned with a small cloth from the bathing room. The chunk of coal was transferred to it, which pleased Yanda. When Kelton wrapped the fabric around the coal, he had to admit to himself that Yanda was wise. The blackness transferred to the cloth without effort. Not something he would want on his hands after a bath. He thanked the copper and tried to not acknowledge Yanda's superior smile.

"What do you want that for?" Filgot asked as they headed toward the food hall.

"Heard some talk about it," Kelton shrugged. "Never seen it before. Looks like burnt wood to me."

"Burns hot for a long time is all," Filgot said and let the subject go. "I mean to eat with you if it's alright."

"Can I say nay?" Kelton said and gave Filgot a broad smile, so he knew it wasn't spiteful.

"I could just say you look especially violent today and I need to keep my eye on you."

"You are welcome either way."

"Good."

Much to Kelton's relief, the special treatment had run its course. Yanda and Kelton had to retrieve their own meal like everyone else. Kelton still received unwarranted smiles and many more good-days than one should expect. It was when they sat down, and Filgot started to laugh when things returned to strange.

A woman wearing the copper sat down across from them with pride in her eyes. Next to her, a young boy sat down, his hair weaved like Kelton's. He couldn't have seen ten years, and yet he wore the weavings of a Sorinnian man. Kelton turned to Yanda. She was beaming as she rose from the bench and walked around the table.

"Is that not wrong?" Kelton asked. Vasco joined them, moving across the room from where he had begun his meal. He too found it hilarious. "Do you see. He is not old enough."

"I think he wishes to be like you," Vasco said.

"Look at her," Kelton said, referring to Yanda. She had moved to examine the weaving closely. "She is pleased. Did you not tell me it was a mark of a man? He is only a boy." A girl walked by with a weave as well. Kelton's mouth dropped open when Yanda was equally enamored with the girl's weave. Vasco and Yanda traded some words which made them both laugh.

"What is so funny?" Kelton looked to Filgot for support, but he covered his smile with his hand and shook his head.

"Yanda says on you it marks a man. On them, it is respect..." Vasco blushed and decided not to finish.

"What?"

"She said if you want to be a child about it, she will unweave your hair," Veloc added. Filgot lost control over his laughter. Kelton felt as if something had been taken from him. Yet, to argue it would cause him to lose what he thought had been taken. An impossible situation.

Vasco spent some time interpreting for the Yanda and the woman - the boy's mother, Kelton assumed. They spent time discussing the weave as if it were the most important thing. The boy rolled his eyes when the two women had their hands in his hair. Kelton had to smile knowing what he was going through.

"I'm Kelton. What's your name?" Kelton asked to the boy.

"Tramish, and I know who you are." Tramish smiled.

"I thought it girlish when Yanda first weaved my hair. In her land, it means something more, so I put up with it."

"I did it because you did it," Tramish said. "It's a lot more work then I thought."

Kelton leaned in and whispered, "But they seem to like to do it." He used his eyes to point at Yanda and boy's mother.

"Aye," Tramish whispered back, sharing Kelton's smile. He seemed pleased to share private words with Kelton. "Did you really chase off a hundred viners?"

"It was ten, and there were many others with me," Kelton replied. "I guess they decided house Tarvakian wasn't an easy target. Turns out they were more scared of us then we were of them."

"I wouldn't have been scared," Tramish bragged.

Kelton leaned close again. "I was." Tramish's eyes widened. It wasn't the words he was expecting to hear. "It is hard not to be when swords are pointing at you. Now, Filgot here stood firm, and that probably scared them the most. He stands so tall." Tramish's eyes shifted to Filgot with the same admiration they held for Kelton.

"Now I see how stories get started," Filgot said with a chuckle. "Aye, I stood firm Tramish, but it was Kelton who frightened them off. He was fearsome when he came at them with a sword." Tramish leaned toward Filgot as the tale grew. "I think he meant to take them on all by himself. It was the way he swung the sword, fearsome like I said. Had them all shaking, he did."

"It was like the ship!" Tramish said.

"Aye, it was that," Filgot continued.

"It was nothing like that," Kelton sighed.

"He says ten men, yet I think I saw another twenty or so in the trees," Filgot said with a serious face.

"I heard a hundred," Tramish said.

"Aye, could have been that. It was more than I could count, that's for sure. It didn't matter. Kelton saw them for what they were and protected Zello and the rest of us without fear." Tramish was beaming at Filgot's words. Kelton slumped in his chair, defeated. Vasco decided to translate Filgot's words for Yanda. She bit her bottom lip to stop from smiling. Moving around the table, she planted a kiss on Kelton's cheek and spoke.

"Only the brave wear weaves in their hair," Vasco translated. "It marks them so all know who to stand next too when comes what may."

"Like my hair!" Tramish said.

"Just like your hair," his mother agreed. There was pride in her eyes and Kelton didn't have the heart to correct the tale Filgot had woven. Kelton decided it was best to just eat and let them believe what they want. The words seemed to make Tramish happy, and that wasn't a bad thing. Maybe when the boy was older, Kelton would set him straight.

The meal continued on. Tramish asking more questions, Filgot exaggerating, and Vasco chuckling as he informed Yanda of the discussions. She found it all humorous as well, though Kelton was sure there was some pride in her eyes. It made him feel better about the lies.

"Taggert was upset this morning," Kelton whispered to Filgot. "He thought he wasn't brave enough on the road."

"I know, and he wasn't" Filgot replied. "I will deal with him." The way he said it left Kelton with the impression that it wasn't his place to talk about it. There was a finality to the words that didn't speak well for Taggert's longevity.