Greywolf - Bukhara

I was tempted to slip into the Shadowlands and back out again, but instead raced along the bridge as fast as I could until I reached them. Two of the soldiers moved their spears towards me, and I raised my hands to show I was unarmed as I stopped next to Asena. Porthos was speaking to a soldier wearing a red sash, probably their leader, who laughed at something the merchant said, and while I was pretty good at picking up new tongues, they were talking way too fast to catch more than a word or two.

The two nodded at each other. Then Red Sash barked a command and the other soldiers raised their spears, stepping away from us as Porthos turned and smiled. "Just a simple misunderstanding," he said as he returned to speaking Greco-Roma. "Follow me." We walked underneath the gate and back into the warm sun. The main road became a square plaza with a round fountain in the center containing bronze statues, now green from age, of women with pitchers in their hands from which water flowed.

We passed women filling ceramic jugs from the flowing water, though most seemed to be gossiping among themselves, their voices growing silent, and then excited, as Asena walked past. The older women favored flowing clothes covering them head to foot, while the younger left their stomachs and ankles bare, the gauzy material in as many colors are there were flowers being sold by the vendors lining either side of the street.

Other vendors hawked spices out of wooden push carts, their smells filling my nostrils with intoxicating scents of rose, saffron, cumin, and more. But they still couldn't completely cover the dusty smell of crumbling brick.

From the plaza, the main road curved and followed the river as the city expanded outward, leading to a walled section at the opposite end with a palace rising behind it. Closer to us, another road went straight back to another walled section only a stone's throw away, with massive wooden doors banded in black iron like the main gate. A white statue stood on the wall overlooking the gates, with two people fused together: a man holding a pot with a stalk of rock corn on the left, and a woman holding a flaming torch on the right.

Rising behind the statue and the walls were tall pyramids and other buildings dedicated to their 'gods', located inside the Temple District, as I heard several merchants call it during the trip. That was a place I wanted no part of. The last thing I needed were temple priests taking an interest in me.

Porthos led us deeper into the city, each building facing the road separated from the others by narrow alleyways, with wooden signs hanging above their shadowed entrances. I couldn't read the flowing script, but each sign also had a carved picture indicating what type of inn or shoppe lay at the end of the alley.

Porthos took a right into a lane with a sign depicting a Direwolf standing on one leg, with its other leg and front paws waving in the air. As our footsteps echoed off the walls to either side, he said, "I forgot to mention that the inn boasts a bathhouse, located directly behind it, as the central bathhouses are restricted to residents of Bukhara only."

"I'm heading there first."

Asena gave me a snort. "Just like your father." At the end of the alley, a single story inn, made of the same white stone as the bridge, sat behind the buildings to either side. Porthos strode up to the wooden door, which chimed as he opened it, and stepped inside. Asena ducked her head as she followed, with me at her heels.

We entered a dimly lit, large room with colorful woven rugs hanging on the walls, and long, low tables surrounded by seat cushions on a floor made of flagstones. The air was fragrant with the scent of almond from the oil lamps set into the walls. The back of the room was lost in shadow, but the only people sitting were a couple men wearing leather armor, who looked up as we entered.

To our left, the wall extended several feet to a doorway covered by long strands of beads and a few small bronze bells, which softly chimed as a man pushed through them. "Welcome to your oasis of rest from your burdens," a bald, skinny man wearing an apron began in Greco-Roma. "My name is Parnax, and I will be your- urk!"

The innkeeper went still as a mouse in a hawk's shadow as Porthos smiled. "Be at ease, my old friend, for the gods look upon you with favor this day." He switched over to their language, the innkeeper's face going from fear to surprise to greedy slyness, before slipping back into a pleasant mask. Porthos stopped speaking and clapped me on the shoulder. "First things first. Greywolf would like a bath and clean clothes."

I ignored Asena as she snorted again while the innkeeper's expression grew sharp. "Use of the bathhouse is included with the room, but minor-mage Ishi charges extra to do laundry."

I blinked. "You have mages doing laundry?"

"That lazy slut? She has a manikin that does it for her."

"A what?"

"Manikins are wooden dolls as tall as a small woman," Porthos said, "which are fully articulated and enchanted to perform specific acts the mage needs done, like doing laundry. All the mage has to do is make sure the manikin is charged with mana and it does the rest."

"Waste of mana," Asena growled. "Why doesn't she just use a slave like they do in the Western and Eastern empires?"

Porthos made an open gesture with his hands. "Ah, but slavery is illegal in the Sasnayam empire, of which Bukhara is a loyal satrapy... though some might argue their concept of using servants is itself a form of slavery."

I scratched my head. "The rulers actually let regular people use magic?"

"If they have the talent," Porthos replied, "and only if they are licensed by one of the temples. Cultures are strange, are they not? In the decadent Empire of the West, to be discovered having mage talent means instant enslavement, while here in the east, it means gainful employment. Here, magic flourishes while there it hides in the shadows. I believe-"

"Friend Porthos," the innkeeper said, interrupting, "a thousand apologies, but with my debt to you cleared-"

"You wish to speak of business. Show my friends to their room, and we can discuss the delivery of wine casks... paid for in advance, of course."

Parnax's face twisted into a grimace. "Of course. If you will both follow me?" The innkeeper went back through the strings of beads and bells and we followed, the next room much like the first, but with the back wall opening into a kitchen, and a hall that went straight back. He led us down the hall with doors on both sides, ending in a wooden door facing us with an iron bolt drawn across it. Parnax stopped and opened the last door on the left with a brass key. "I fear I do not have a bed large enough to accommodate you."

"I'm fine with a pallet on the floor," she said as she took the key from his hand.

The room was simple, the bed a wooden frame with a thin cushion and nothing else. Asena set her pack against the wall and I put mine down beside it as Parnax retreated to the hallway. "The bathhouse is right behind the inn," he said as he drew back the bolt on the door leading outside. "When you enter, the wicker basket to your left is for laundry, and the moment you throw your clothes in, the manikin will know to come pick them up. So throw all your laundry in at once or you will confuse it." He hesitated. "Friend Porthos told me your name translates to 'Wolf-mother?"

"Close enough," she growled.

He visibly swallowed. "I do not wish to offend, but men of all sorts drink in the common room you entered-"

"You want me to remain behind the bead curtain so I don't scare off your customers. Fine, but I want a meal with roasted meat, a tankard or two of thin-beer to wash away the caravan dust, and then red wine from the empire: east or west, I don't care which."

"Whatever you desire that could be provided, shall be. Come to the private room when you are ready, and the girl will serve you."

Parnax bowed and scurried away back down the hallway. Asena snorted once more and helped me unbuckle my leather armor with its cracked and pitted Artifact plates, which we laid on the bed to dry. "It'll be good to be clean again." She grunted, and I said, "Are you sure you don't want to join me?"

"I don't trust this place," she growled, "and taking my armor off leaves me vulnerable." So does getting drunk and passing out in the common room, but I'll keep that thought to myself, I decided as she added, "Besides, I took a bath in Khitia."

It was my turn to snort. "You fell out of the boat into the river. That hardly counts." I dodged the half-hearted cuff she swung at me and began pulling all the clothes out of my pack, including my last clean tunic and trousers, before looking up again. There was a haggard expression on Asena's face I doubt anyone else would’ve noticed, and a slump to her shoulders as she untied her long steel sword from her pack and laid it under the bed. "Thanks to Porthos, we've got silver to spare."

She looked up with her dark eyed gaze. "So?"

"This inn's going to be crawling with mercenaries. So when this Karl fellow finds you something magical to kill, we could hire-"

"I'm not hiring sell-swords to help me hunt troll, or whatever the local beast is. What are you, my nursemaid?"

"Someone's got to be." Asena raised her black clawed hand and I skipped back a step. "Alright, I won't nag. But at least think about it." Grabbing my bundle of clothing, I stepped into the hall and opened the unbolted door. Straight ahead was a small square building made of white stone, with a red brick shed attached, and I strode towards it, wrinkling my nose at the smell coming off the garbage midden against the right hand brick wall.

Stepping through the open doorway, the air hit me with a welcome humid wave. It was one big room with a large pool and recessed privy to one side, and a stall with a bronze pipe sticking out near the ceiling to the other. The stall had a simple bronze lever and a chunk of soap on a ledge.

Now this is civilized. There was no changing room, only shelves built into the walls, so I used the privy before getting undressed, placed my clean clothes on a shelf, and my dirty ones into the basket. I'd never seen anything like it. The wicker basket had a half-foot wide wooden rim, covered in a flowing script burned into the wood, which began glowing blue the moment I tossed in my clothes. The basket didn't do anything else, though, so I walked over to the stall and got myself cleaned up before sliding into the pool.

Now that's more like it. Asena can snort all she wants, but nothing beats hot water after a long journey. Ducking my head, I found the pipe feeding hot water into the pool and let it surge against the muscles in my back. I swear I could go to sleep in here if I didn't... wait, what's that odd clacking sound? I stood up in waist deep water as a figure stepped into the doorway.

It was faceless wooden doll the size of a large child, with glowing blue eye slits and more of this strange flowing writing burned onto every smooth surface of its light brown wood, including its articulated hands. Several bands of writing were glowing, but as I watched, one line of script faded as two more began to glow, as did the writing on its hands as the manikin bent down to pick up the basket. Different lines of script glowed or faded as it turned around and marched with my laundry out the doorway.

A beautiful dark haired woman took its place.