Eileen pointed. “The one by the fire. It will stay warm the longest.”
Harriet smiled. “The baths are heated underneath so they’ll stay warm, no matter how far from the fire you are. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She turned and headed back for the inn, leaving them alone. Neither moved for a time.
“Well,” said Thomas at last, “after you.”
“Right,” Eileen hesitated a moment longer then headed to the far bath. At the curtain, she stopped to look back. “You won’t peek, will you?”
Thomas shook his head. “On my word.”
“Good.” She stepped into the bath alcove and pulled the curtains. A moment later she stuck her head back out. “Well, don’t just stand there.”
Thomas headed for the other bath. He tossed his bag on the floor, and started going through it for fresh clothes. The brown breeches and white shirt were in the best condition, and he hung them over the rail away from Eileen’s tub. From the other side of the curtain, he heard clothes hitting the floor, and a moment later, the splash of water being poured over a body, followed by a groan of pleasure.
“Oh,” the words came out of Eileen in a moan, “this is heavenly.”
In his mind, Thomas could see Eileen standing in the washtub as the water flowed down her. The image shook him on several levels. He forced it aside, stripped his clothes off, and stepped into his own washtub. He picked up the large dipper and poured water down his own body. He groaned himself as the hot water rolled down his flesh. He did it a second time, then a third, revelling in the feeling.
“You’re right,” he called to Eileen.
“I was,” corrected Eileen, a shiver running through her voice. “It’s great while you’re pouring, but now all I can think about is getting in that bath!”
Thomas, feeling goose-pimples rising over his body, understood exactly what she was talking about. He picked up the soap and washcloth and began to lather. The day’s sweat—from running, from riding, from fear—sloughed from his body. It was wonderful.
“You know,” Eileen said, “This is the first time I’ve bathed with anyone that wasn’t family.”
“We’re not exactly bathing
with
each other,” said Thomas as he scrubbed at the dirt.
“You know what I mean.”
“Aye,” Thomas grinned. “No peeking, now.”
Eileen snorted. “You wish.”
Thomas did, indeed, wish, but kept that to himself. Instead, he finished soaping up. From the other side, he heard the splashes as Eileen rinsed the soap away, and set himself to doing the same. The water sluiced away the suds and the last of the road dirt, leaving him clean at last. The cool air ran lightly over his body, raising the goose-pimples again. From the other side of the curtain, he heard wet footsteps, then a loud splash. Eileen had gone into the bath. He waited until he heard the second splash of her surfacing, then called, “How is it?”
Eileen’s tone was something close to rapture. “Wonderful!”
Thomas stepped carefully out of his washtub. The flagstones were cold and hard beneath his feet as he crossed the floor to the big bath. The outside of it was stone, and rough against his body as he pushed up onto the edge of the bath and swung his legs over. The moment the water closed over him, he forgot everything else. He hadn’t been in a proper bath since the smithy, two weeks ago. Even then, it hadn’t been a large one. For the first time in months, he could completely submerge in hot water. He lay underneath as long as he could, then let himself emerge, spluttering and shaking the water from his face.
“Good, isn’t it?” Eileen called from the other side.
“Aye,” Thomas let himself stretch out. “These baths are huge.”
“Big enough for two.” There was a pause, then Eileen added a rather embarrassed, “That wasn’t meant as an invitation.”
Too bad.
Thomas quashed the thought at once. “I guessed.”
He slid back into the water and floated, letting the heat pull the ache from his muscles and bones. There was no sound from Eileen’s side of the room, and Thomas guessed her to be doing the same. He closed his eyes, and let himself lie suspended. Every part of his body started to relax.
Water closed over his head and went up his nose. He came up spluttering. George had been right. There was a good chance he could fall asleep if he let himself relax too much. Still, the water was far too nice for him to leave just yet.
“Thomas?” Eileen’s voice had an uncertain note to it.
Thomas sat up in the water. “Yes?”
“What if you can’t stop the bishop?”
Thomas had spent most of the day working very hard on not thinking about that. “I don’t know.”
“Can’t you just…” Eileen fell silent for a moment. “Do you have to try?”
“I do,” Thomas looked at the curtain between them, wishing he could be holding her hand. “He’s hurt my family. He took my father’s gift. He killed others to get theirs. He hurt my friends and started a riot just to get to me.” He thought a moment, and added, “He hurt you.”
“I know,” Eileen’s voice was muffled, and Thomas realized she was crying. “I just…” she stopped, her breath hitched, then she started again. “You’re the first boy who’s really been interested in me and I don’t want you to get killed.”
Thomas had nothing to say to that.
“Thomas?” Eileen’s voice was pleading. “Thomas, say something.”
Thomas couldn’t promise he wouldn’t die, and that knowledge shook him more than anything else. In truth, he hadn’t thought about the possibility of getting killed, all jokes about Eileen’s father aside. He’d been too busy dwelling on his problems and planning how to deal with them to let the idea of death be more than a vague shape, lurking in the back of his head.
He didn’t want to think about it now, either, he realized, and turned the topic away instead. “I can’t believe that I’m the first boy who’s been interested in you.”
“You’re the first one who offered to court me and visit my parents, instead of just trying to feel me up in a haystack.” Her voice was muffled again, as if she was scrubbing at her face. “And even if it doesn’t mean anything to you, it means something to me.” There was silence for a moment, then, “Does it mean something to you?”
“It does.” Thomas’s voice caught in his throat, and it took a moment before he could finish. “It means a great deal to me.”
“Then please don’t die.”
Thomas searched for a way to answer. At last, he pushed himself upward, reaching for the curtain. He found an opening and put his hand through. “Can you see my hand?”
“Aye.”
“Can you reach it?”
There was silence then a swirl of water. Small, wet fingers entwined with his. He grasped them as tightly as he could. “I’ll do my best to stay alive,” he promised. “And I’ll do my best to make it so we can all go home again. All right?”
She squeezed his hand back. “All right.”
“Good.” He squeezed again then let her go. “I need to get out before I drown. Do you want to stay a while longer?”
“No, I’ll come with you.”
Thomas levered himself out of the high tub and onto the ground. He grabbed his towel and rubbed himself briskly, trying to dry off before the cool of the evening sent his skin into goose bumps again. From the other side, he heard Eileen coming out of the tub, and her gasp as her feet hit the cool stones of the floor. There was some rustling, then she said. “Cover up, Thomas.”
“What?” Thomas turned to the curtain and saw Eileen’s hand reaching through and grasping one of the panels. He had just enough time to wrap the towel around his waist before she opened the curtain. She was wrapped in her own towel, the long cloth tight around her frame. Her shoulders and arms and a good deal of her legs were bare. Thomas tied his own towel tight about his waist, tried to find some words.
Eileen crossed the floor, wrapped her arms about him and pulled her body tight to his. She leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Surprise kept him from responding at once, but she kept kissing him until his arms went about her, and he started kissing back. The bare skin of her arms and legs was warm and wet against his own. His arms rested gently on her back, feeling the skin of her shoulders and the thin cloth that separated the rest of her body from his. Her mouth against his was soft and gentle and insistent. His whole body responded to her.
After a far too short time, Eileen pulled back. There were still tears in her eyes, though she was smiling. “That’s for saying what you said,” she wiped at her face. “And also a reason for you to stay alive.”
She let him go. Thomas remained where he was, speechless, watching her walk back to her own side of the curtain. She smiled back at him over her shoulder. “Now hurry up before they think we’ve drowned.”
She pulled the curtain shut and Thomas stood, bemused, a moment longer before turning away to finish drying off.
Chapter 27
Eileen met him outside the curtains and the two walked hand in hand out the door. Thomas found himself grinning like an idiot. Eileen was in the same state, and for a moment they just stood, smiling at each other until Eileen began giggling. Thomas took her hand, kissed it, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
When he pulled back, she smiled. “Looking for more reasons to stay alive?”
“I have you,” said Thomas without thinking. “There’s no reason better.”
Eileen blushed. “Now there’s a line.”
Thomas smiled again. “I rather liked it myself.” He kissed her once more. “And it’s true.”
For a reply, she squeezed his hand tightly.
They were half-way across the inn yard when Eileen stopped. “Listen.”
Thomas listened. Somewhere in the distance, something was rumbling. He peered out into the night, but couldn’t see anything. The lights of the inn lit only the yard, leaving the area beyond in darkness. The sound grew louder, and Eileen cocked her head, trying to figure out where it was coming from. “What is that?”
Thomas was about to say he didn’t know when he spotted a wavering band of yellow light just over the horizon. The rumbling separated itself into dozens of individual thumps coming hard and fast together. “Horses,” said Thomas. “A lot of them, coming down the road.”
He grabbed Eileen’s hand and pulled her back around the side of the bathhouse. The corner away from the inn gave them a clear view of the courtyard and the road to the north. Peeking around it, they watched as the light over the horizon grew brighter then crested the hill: a dozen torches, perhaps fifteen, carried by fast-moving riders in a disciplined formation. They came closer and Thomas could make out twenty riders, half carrying torches. In the midst of them was a large coach drawn by six horses. Two torches lit it from atop the driver’s seat. Thomas’s breath caught as he recognized the soldiers’ livery.
The riders slowed to a walk outside of the inn yard, and a sick feeling grew in the pit of Thomas’s stomach.
“He’s coming here,” he whispered. His heart sank. He pulled the rapier and dagger out, knowing the gesture was futile as he did it.
Eileen freed her own knife. “What about George?” she whispered. “He’s inside.”
“We can’t get there before they reach the yard,” Thomas whispered back. “We have to stay here.”
They watched as the riders turned into the yard. Their leader, clad in black as always, started shouting for someone to come out. Two stable boys emerged, and Harriet followed after. Randolf rode forward, sneering down at them.
“We need fresh horses for the coach, food and drink,” Randolf said without preamble. “Get them and bring them here.”
“Your pardon,” Harriet said, her tone polite and firm. “We only keep fresh horses for the king’s riders and the mail.”
“This is the bishop’s personal carriage,” Randolf’s voice was cold and hard. “You will get the horses, and you will hook them up. Now.”
Harriet didn’t move or change her tone. “With respect to the bishop, the horses are for the king’s riders and the mail. Not for anyone else.”
Randolf leaned forward in his saddle and without warning or change of expression, punched her hard in the face. She stumbled back and fell. Randolf pulled out his sword and pointed it at the stable boys. “You,” he said to the smaller of them. “We need food and drink for twenty hungry men, plus the bishop and his drivers. Get it, or I’ll have my men burn this building to the ground. You,” he turned to the other one, “I want those horses off the bishop’s coach, and I want fresh ones put on now or I will cut your eyes out.”
The stable boys stood, frozen in place. Randolf rode slowly towards them, and the youngest one broke and ran for the inn. The second, finding himself alone, did the only thing he could and began to unhook the bishop’s horses from their harness. Thomas felt a vague hint of hope in spite of what he’d just seen. “They aren’t staying,”
“It doesn’t look like it.” Eileen whispered back. She peered around the corner at the inn, then at the riders and the carriage. “I think I can get back inside.”
“How?”
“There’s no one near the back door, and they can’t see it from where they’re standing.”
Thomas saw she was right. “What are you going to do?”
“Find George and wake him up,” Eileen said. “He needs to know what is happening.”
“You don’t even know what room he’s in.”
“I’ll check all three.” She put her bag down beside him. “Keep an eye on them.”
“I will. Be careful.”
She kissed him on the mouth for a reply, then slipped quietly back the way they’d come. Thomas kept his eyes on the bishop’s guards, but none of them saw her. The stable boy that had gone inside came out with a basket of food. He handed it to the bishop’s familiar.
“Is that it?” Randolf demanded.
“No, sir,” the stable boy said, shaking. “There’s more coming. That’s just the first.”
The second boy took the first pair of horses from their traces and led them to the stable. Thomas, feeling nervous and helpless, waited and watched. Harriet slowly pulled herself upright on her knees, then to her feet. The familiar watched as she rose, then rode to her and grabbed her by the hair. She cried out in pain. He pulled her against the side of his horse.
“I want the troop fed and watered by the time the horses are changed,” Randolf said. He ran his hand down from her hair to her neck, then closed it tight and squeezed. “If they are not, I’ll drag you with us behind my horse then let each man have you at his first available convenience.” He shoved her away. “Now, hurry up.”