Barnaby the Wanderer

Chapter 40: Warm Bath, Quick Death

Val the Bard lay in soapy water making a sea froth of bubbles about the islets of knees, the coastal breasts. She leaned back against warm marble, letting the aches and indignities of gaol soak away.

And the dirt. When she'd first settled into the bath, it'd turned brown as a village chamber pot. Now the water shone clear, smelling of pink flowers, spring blossoms. Val sang aloud, enjoying the echoes.

Miss Fortune chased the grail.

Up and down to no avail.

Met St. Bridget, made her fidget,

Said, 'I find her hot and so female'.

She stretched out the 'so' to a long 'soooooooo'.

"Now that makes a proper entrance," declared Alexandra. Appearing at the door, fingering the ties of her robe..

"Been expecting you," sighed Val. "But there's no lock on the door. Go away. I'm recuperating. I'm having a holy moment communing with the saints."

"You steal my horse, then my bath including all my salts." Alexandra tossed her robe aside. "Did you go to bard school or the Thief's Guild?"

She slipped legs over the edge of the great marble tub, slid in to sit opposite to Val. Grinning over the archipelago of knees, across the soapy waves.

"Oh, I see new scars. Stand and let me appreciate."

"Yeah, no."

"Wimp. I'll show you mine. Look at these slices on my hands from learning the rapier. And this scar by my ear, that comes from a war lance. We were charging at one another without helms. Kinda stupid, I guess. Oh, and this scar where-"

Val closed eyes, began a loud and rude snore.

"Ah, c'mon, 'Tine. I worked hard to get these. Been waiting forever to show them off."

Val considered. Sighed, opened eyes.

"Sorry, Lex. Don't want to be mean. Those are lovely scars. You look a proper warrior of St. Martia."

"Really? Truly?"

"Yep. Dress you in some leather and brass scraps and you can slip over the border, be shouting on the practice fields like the best." Which is an idiot way to spend one's life.

"I bet you just added in your head that practicing war all the time is for dimwits."

"No, 'course not. It's just not for me."

"Horse theft is your true vocation?"

Val hesitated. But she could tell Alexandra.

"I saw the cup again, Lexi. This time I was wide awake, in some dull class about theurgy. I looked out the window and there it was floating down the road. I jumped up, ran outside. The headmistress's horse was waiting all nice and saddled. What else could I do?"

"Makes sense to me. Granted, it scheduled you to be branded 'T' for thief. And that's before breaking gaol, assaulting guards, consorted with witches. Change of schedule. Now you're slated for summary execution."

"Wait, what? You aren't going to pardon me?"

"Me? I'm not the duke. Just the daughter everyone says is touched in the head. I have authority to throw tea parties and ride horses through the streets while waving a sword. I've no power over decisions of the Juditandis, much less the Council of Questioners."

"I killed some of those monsters last night."

"Well done. Maybe they'll give you a softer rope to hang from."