Page 72 of Veiled Flames
I glance toward him and then toward our masters, but Treacher has turned away, and Saxon only shakes his head with an unbearably neutral look in his eyes.
Every bone in my body screams in protest, as I walk from the dining hall back to my room. If I had the strength, my chest would fill with accomplishment. I survived my first full day at camp.
I’m not the only one of the new candidates who limped and groaned on the way to the dining hall, and after eating quickly, I leave the meal early while the rest are enjoying their puddings and second or third glasses of ale. I much prefer to return to my room for a soak and to fall into bed. I didn’t sleep much last night.
Samyull survived his first day too, although he looked very pale at dinner and barely spoke. At least we found seats well away from Egon and Amis, and they mercifully found someone else to torment.
I enter my room to find the fire lit, and Elly rushes in behind me.
“So sorry, sir,” she says. “Yer back earlier than expected. The fire is started but yer bath isn’t yet drawn.” She presses the buttons under each gas light, and they blaze to brighten the room.
“Elly.” I remember to deepen the tone of my voice. “How do these lights work? Are they…magic?”
Her eyes open wider, and she makes the sign of Othrix. “No sir. Magic is forbidden, blasphemous.”
“Of course.” I rub my sore arms as we both cross the room. She moves behind the screen to the tub, and I soon hear water splashing.
Curious, I join her. Steaming hot water is flowing out of a spout at the end of a pipe and quickly filling the tub.
“I understand it’s not magic,” I say more carefully, “but where I come from, we lack such conveniences. Our lamps require lighting sticks and striking powder, and our tubs are filled using buckets.”
“Oh.” She smiles as her fingers test the flowing water’s temperature, and then she adjusts a knob. “Yes. That’s right, sir. I too had not seen plumbing or gas lamps before coming to camp.”
“Do you understand how they work?” I store the words plumbing and gas lamp.
“No, sir.” She straightens and her eyes fill with what looks like fear. “I promise you. I’ve had no schooling.”
“I wasn’t accusing you…” I shake my head. Whatever I say now could make this worse. I certainly don’t want to draw any attention to Elly—or to me, if she tells someone I’ve asked these questions. “Forget that I asked.”
She nods. “Would you like my help?”
“Help with what?” I stretch my neck from side to side, shocked at how sore even that part of me is.
“Removing your uniform,” she replies. “Or if you would like to drill me, I’m available for that service too.”
My belly tightens. “That’s not necessary.” I shake my head, hoping my expression doesn’t reveal my fear of discovery. “In fact, if you’d be kind enough to teach me how to use the controls for this tub, I’d very much like to be alone for the rest of the night.”
She blinks at me. “Are you certain, sir?” She turns toward the fire, and then back to the tub. “Have I done something to displease you?”
“Not at all,” I tell her. “And I’m very certain. After a quick bath, I’ll fall straight asleep. I do not wish to be disturbed.”
She nods. “I’ll return to assist you in the morn.”
I shake my head. “I prefer to dress myself. I’ll leave my soiled clothes on that chair.” I gesture toward one. “You can gather them for laundering after I leave for training.”
Disappointment and worry fill her eyes, but I keep my expression kind but neutral. I don’t want her to question my motives, so it’s best if I act as if my requests are perfectly normal.
“Now, about these plumbing controls.” I gesture toward the tub. “How do I stop the water from flowing? And how do I drain the tub after use?”
Twenty-Seven
Rosomon
On the second day we begin with a two-hour run before our first meal—twice as long as yesterday. Two of the slowest men are killed by dragon fire, and after we break our fasts, we spend the next hours sword training with Saxon. He pays me no attention.
Twice, I think I catch him looking my way, but his gaze quickly falls elsewhere.
No one gets killed during sword training—not even Samyull who, like me, is better than his small frame might suggest—but two men are badly injured and choose to leave camp.
