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A Soldier’s Life - Chapter 34

Published at 7th of February 2024 06:35:55 AM


Chapter 34

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Chapter 34 Spa Day

Our soaked and filth-covered bodies walked down the road. Four men carried the mage in a litter made from two spears. We rotated carrying him as night set in, and the watery Blue Moon bathed us in its light. Every man had a glowstone ready to be released to illuminate a foe if one showed itself. Flavius had us moving quickly, and the city walls came into view after a time. Relief flooded my own body at the sight.

I had turned over a lot of thoughts in my mind on the sojourn back. Should I have revealed myself and risked myself to kill the storm giant with my dimensional space? Men would have lived, and Durandus would probably be alive. The horror of the speed at which the storm giant killed almost twenty shield and spear men flashed through my mind. Experienced men. No, I would have most likely died if I had tried to get close enough. The storm giant was twenty-five feet tall. I could not have displaced enough of his body to win the fight in a single blow.

We reached the gate, breaking my thoughts, and Flavius yelled up to the tower, “Durandus’ company is returning!”

“Gates do not open for anyone until first light. Order of the general!” came a return shout.

Flavius swore, “Dragon’s Breath! Seven men with the body of a mage. Open the gates, or I will rip them off their hinges and beat you senseless with it!”

There was a lot of movement in the tower, and then a different soldier weakly said, “They went to wake and check with the general. Just a few moments, legionnaire.”

It was closer to fifteen minutes before the gatehouse door swung open, and a man strode out half-dressed, “What is this? Durandus is dead?” his voice was coated with disbelief, anger, and worry.

Flavius said, “I will report to the Legion command. May we enter, general?” It was not a question, as we just started walking past. The general swore and cursed his men for not letting us in right away, but it appeared more of an act to appease us.

I had a long walk all the way to the other side of the city to reach the villa in the inner orchard. As I passed the upper city baths, I checked to see if they were open. The door was not locked, but there was no one around. I helped myself to soap and a scrubber as I went into the shower and scrubbed the filth off. The water heading to the drain remained murky with dirt for long periods. I located dozens of bug bites I never remembered receiving.

Whenever I thought the water was clear, I would find another patch or crevasse of dirt. My hair was terrible, a greasy, dirty mess that had gotten too long. The members of Dureandus’ legion had all been clean-shaven when we started. I was the misfit with the poorly trimmed beard. I had seen numerous barbers, so maybe I could do that in the morning. Finally, sure I was clean, I moved to the baths. They were not heated, having cooled to a lukewarm temperature overnight. I relaxed into the water, not caring, and promptly fell asleep.

I was awakened by a trio of young women whispering and staring at me. I remembered that they were the group of women that took my clothes and washed them last time. The water had cooled even further. I spoke clearly, “My clothes can be burned, but my armor needs washing.” I placed seven silver coins on the lip of the large communal tub. “Turn the heat on for the water, wash my armor, and get me a new set of clothes. Do a good job, and there is a silver tip for each of you.”

One of the braver women came forward and took the silver. “We will turn on the heater runes, legionnaire.” She was young, in her late teens, with dirty blonde hair and soft freckles, pretty in an average way. It had been too long since I had been with a woman, and my desire rose, and I embarrassingly hid it.

I felt guilty of the impropriety of it. “Bring me a double breakfast and see if a barber will service me while I soak,” I asked another young woman.

She nodded, “We just prepare and clean the baths up in the morning. The mistress should be here shortly, legionnaire.”

I groaned inwardly as I was expecting a verbal fight with the woman for breaking into the baths in the middle of the night. My skin was pruned, but I promptly fell asleep again as the water heated up from whatever magic did it.

I was awoken as two of the young women came in carrying trays of food and drink, and a much older woman followed, showing signs of gray. She had a tight and unhappy face. Hopefully, coin would solve whatever blunder I had made. She said, “You entered my baths past the curfew, legionnaire. Care to explain yourself?” No, not really, I thought.

I inhaled and spoke slowly, “I was filthy after almost dying a half dozen times in the last two days.” It was closer to a dozen times in the last week. “I needed a bath, and your doors were open. I have paid for my time in the water and will pay that again if I leave here happy.”

“He paid seven silver, mistress,” one of the younger women said, trying to help.

The mistress softened. She still did not look pleased but consented to my presence, “Very good then. Your barber will be sent for,” she hesitated. “You will pay him from your own pocket.” She left, and I dug into the food and drink. Warm wine, fruit, somewhat stale bread, herb-infused butter, and something that appeared to be fresh hummus. I did not taste it as I consumed everything.

I suddenly realized something. After the man had been caught by the frog while shitting, I unconsciously held it in on the return through the swamp. I rushed out of the water to the privy as I urgently needed to make room for the massive quantity of food and wine I had just consumed.

A voice echoed outside the privy, “Your barber is here.” It was one of the young women who was giggling at the embarrassing noises I was making.

I finished up, and a middle-aged man smiled as he spoke, “My services are yours.”

“Clean shave, hair cut and...” I almost added an eyebrow sculpt, but that was a vanity from a different life.

The shave was done with a foamy mixture that smelled of sandalwood. He used a straight razor, and he shaved my neck first. Having another man go across your throat with a blade is a different experience. He probably sensed my unease as he started talking about his family. The shave was finished, and he applied a balm. The scent was beeswax and cocoa butter. I asked, “What is in this?”

“Aloe, jojoba oil, shea butter, and honey bee wax dissolved in chamomile extract,” he replied as he combed and cut my hair. I relaxed, feeling months of growth being removed. Most legion companies were clean-shaven and well-groomed when I saw them in the few cities I had been to. Castille seemed to let us do whatever we pleased. It was like we were the black sheep of the Mage Legions.

When he finished, he used a mirror to show me, which I liked. My off-black hair was finger-length and styled. I asked, “How much for the shave and your entire kit?” He looked confused, as he put his tools away in a large leather satchel. “You have another set at your business, I assume?” I added.

“Yes, but these are my traveling set,” he said worriedly.

“How much to replace them?” I asked, not relenting.

He looked in his bag slowly and added up the value. “Seventy silver,” He looked at me.

I pulled a gold coin from nowhere and handed it to him, “This should be enough then?”

He still did not look happy at losing his profession’s tool set. He said, “I forgot the perfume. It is worth half a gold on its own, and I only use it on my female clients.”

Rather than argue, I said, “You can keep the perfume.” He finally nodded, somewhat happier as he pulled it out and took the gold coin. He walked out in kind of a daze, like he lost something precious to him. I was alone in the room, and the leather satchel went into my dimensional space.

Personal grooming was in my future. I realized I was accepting my new life. I had not realized up till the bath, but the shock and changes had greatly diminished my desires. Now, they seemed to be returning. There was still no way I was visiting a brothel. I walked to the open dressing room to find my armor clean and oiled and a set of new linen clothes folded neatly next to it.

They were not as heavy as the canvas ones that were normal Legion wear but would work for now. I dressed and found the older woman in charge. I had to change a gold coin for silver since I only had one silver left. I gave her ten silver, seven as agreed, and one silver for each of the three young women as promised. After nearly dying, spending what wealth you had was easy. Enjoy it while you can—I think I was developing a soldier’s mentality.

The sun was mid-morning when I reached the orchard. I was whistling the Star Wars theme song as I entered the villa. No one was in the entry hall, so maybe they had gone off patrol or wall duty? I had no idea what day it was. I went into the large ballroom where most of the beds were set up and found five men resting. One sat up, and it was Felix. “What the fuck? Have you come back to frigging haunt us?”

“No. I just got a shave and haircut,” I said, trying to sound offended.

Felix shook his head in disbelief. “They said Durandus’ company was decimated, and they returned in the middle of the night. That was like ten hours ago. Castille, Delmar, and Adrian went to question the survivors. Since you didn’t return here and we didn’t get a runner, we all thought you were dead.”

“The reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated,” I quipped.

Firth came out from the kitchen, “You better get your arse to the Legion Hall in the city. Castille is going to rip you a new one for not coming directly to her when you returned.”

“Shit.” I dropped my armor, spears and gear and took off running.





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