The Icon Unbound

Chapter Six, Part A - Saiph

So we are leaving Rigel alone for a few moments to see what has been happening in Waterwall. Saiph is going to get a read on these strangers. Do you think that they have anything to do with what Rigel is facing? Many thanks to those that went over the (many) mistakes in this chapter. I love you guys. I hope you enjoy these next chapters. Leave me a comment or a vote if you think this worthy. --Elizabeth, UPDATED 05/07/2017

Tonight would be interesting.

           

            Even with the blessing of the Icon, the two strangers were more likely to be treated like temperamental direcats than honored guests. More than seventy-five generations of relative isolation made their fear of strangers run deep. Saiph watched as men and women he had known his entire life slip uneasily to their tasks, their eyes fixed away like guilty children. Once he was sure no lack-wit wished to make an issue of the Icon's decision, he entered the bathhouse. He tried to temper his annoyance; after all, they had been the same way with his mother. After all these years, with her marriage, her children, and the blessings of the Icon Who Was Sarah, Honor had never enjoyed the full trust of Waterwall. Instead, after the death of her husband, and Saiph's own investiture as Sentinel, she lived on an isolated farm to avoid...friction.

            Off the main corridor, a row of changing rooms stood empty. Saiph stepped into one while letting his jacket slip from his shoulders. His shirt and pants were next, everything piled into the wicker basket for the bath-maid. Finally, he wrapped a thin cloth around his waist for modesty, and then put on a heavier robe and soft slippers.

            Every plank of the bathhouse was made of highly fragrant wood. Cedar, acacia, and rosewood gleamed in various hues. Downstairs, the air thickened with steam that frosted glass lanterns in copper sconces.

            In a soft whoosh, Hekah bustled toward him, her arms full of soft white towels and her equilibrium apparently restored by working at what she did best. "Sir, the steam is ready in the second sauna. I have the hot stones prepared and oak leaves bundled. By the time you've finished, I'll have the pools filled, and tea ready. You still like the black blend?"

            "Yes, thank you. Where are our guests?"

            She hesitated, her knuckles turning as white as the towels. "They wanted something to eat first thing. I had some simple things on hand, and they tucked in like it was the first meal they'd had in months. I sent little Sophie to the Baker and then the Butcher for something more substantial. On such short notice... well, I'll make the Icon's guests welcome. You don't... you don't happen to know..."

            "The Icon has not made me privy to her plans. Don't worry, there is a purpose in what she does."

            "Yes, yes... I'll just... I'll just set these by the door."

            Saiph watched her hurry away, her round face frozen again. Neither she, nor any citizen of Waterwall would accept such vague answers forever.

Leaving the issue aside, Saiph opened the narrow door to the steam room shrugging the robe off as he entered the privacy of close quarters. He threw some more cold water onto the stones as he passed and took a seat on the far bench to wait. Fueled now, the steam rose up, thick and fragrant to cloud the room.

            A strange, creeping sensation made him pause in the act of ladling even more water.

            Despite the intense, wet, heat his back shivered and the hairs on his arms stood up on pebbled flesh. He felt as if he were in an open field instead of a small room, or as if there were eyes in the walls. Saiph had never pretended to be superstitious, like his mother, but it felt like a ghost had a finger on the back of his neck. Frowning, he looked around, but the murky steam made seeing more than a foot in any direction impossible and he could find nothing amiss.