“an hour and twenty.” Gillian said as Klien’s wagon rolled through the streets of Aimlenn. Klien rolled his eyes, ignoring his younger companion and focused on avoiding the young children, deftly weaving between the knights as they played solider before being shoo’d away. “An hour and twenty minutes I kept that spell up and still have naught but a gimped shoulder. And not a damned doctor free. Resources of all of Thaln at our disposal and we forget to hire a damnable mobile apothecary.”
The boy’s arm was held in a loose sling, provided by Klien himself. He was rather proud of it, were he honest. The ramshackle first aid was nothing if not impressive in his novice opinion. “The larger question is why did you look for an hour before giving up?” Klien asks, tired of the complaints. He knew the reasons, it gave Gillian something to focus on other than the pain, but it was growing tiresome for the elder to put up with.
Gillian huffs, refusing to answer the question and instead choosing to brood. Klien enjoys the moment of silence before pressing on, intending on ribbing his companion a bit. “I hear the captain charged four dozen men on her own to protect her squad.” He chirps, smirking as Gillian visibly bristles. “Were we to take the rumors some of the knights thrown about casually seriously I’d agree. Barely a dozen, if that.” Gillian says, annoyed.
“Say a dozen then. And don’t believe for a moment I have forgotten our bet. Clearly she’s earned your admiration with such a strike. A dozen men! And a knight killer no less!” Klien says, grin expanding. “She didn’t land the killing stroke as I know it.” The younger knight huffs. “And as I recall, it is I who decides is the victor…and I’d call it a draw.”
Klien frowns, feeling cheated. “A draw? What by Mayon’s teat makes you think such a thing? A dozen knights!” He repeats as they enter the gates of Candaeln. Gillian thinks for a moment, not particularly keep on loosing this jobs wages. “…her character is not in question. Much the opposite. But Heroics are little better than political posturing. Or worse, naivety.” He decides as they pull up to a small store house, the knight climbing off the wagon. “She’s ten years to green to be in command of a large force, and we’re lucky losses were minimal.”
Klien hops down, still defending the young captain. “It was her first taste of true battle, she deserves more leeway. And as if you could do better!” He says, waiting as servant boys begin to unload the wagon. “I don’t believe I can, but I shouldn’t be thinking I would do as well” Gillian hisses. The two fall silent for a minute or so, as the wagon is unloaded. “…fine, it’s a draw, but next time I decide who wins. Go see a healer, I’m tired of looking at you.” Klien snorts, his good mood already returning as he moves to park the wagon. “Will do…and next time we’ll make it double or nothing!” Gillian says, only getting a small wave from his friend
After quickly reapplying the glamour to his arm, the treat to the infirmary was thankfully uneventful for Gillian. With so many other patients with minor pains, the healers were quick to treat him and rush him out of their way. He’d forgotten how quickly things moved in the city, having spent much of the previous year orbiting the far outskirts of Aimlenn in between missions. Sudden surprise shoots through him; he hadn’t realized it had been a year. Parnella must be worried, if the old man was even still alive to be worried. A visit was long overdue, though…he’d definitely have to freshen up a bit. Bathing in rivers and smoke baths only do so much for ones odor and he very much doubted his mentor would appreciate the stench of recent combat being dragged through his home.
He retires to a small door just outside the mens private baths hall, pulling a small bronze key out from his belongings. Normally he’d just make use of the public baths, but as it stood he couldn’t keep the glamour on his arm up for more than few minutes and a change of clothes was in order. The private bath had been a gift from Parnella during his brief stay in the capital, though the young man used it rarely these days. He believed it was once a servants bath and his mentor had managed to pick the spot up for a song, and little else. It looked it, the plain oak door looking little better than the entrance to a linen closet compared to the ornate doors which adorned the entrances of some of the baths. Turning the key, the lock clunks open loudly, stiff from disuse.
By the standard of most nobles, the bath was humble at best. A small window high on the wall let light into an equally small room of plain brown tile. An old small wooden tub that squatted in the middle of the room and an elderly closet packed tightly in the corner were the only furnishing that graced it.
Gillian opens the closet, quickly grabbing a bucket, soap, a change of clothes and a small case of beads, beginning the slow task of filling his own bath, silently envying the small fleet of maids, manservants, butlers and more which waited on some of his fellow knights. Still, the tub was small enough to be filled with only three of four quick trips. He drops one of the beads into the bath, watching as it dissolves quickly, the water around it bubbling violently. It was a little magic trinket he’d discovered Aimlenn market one day, cheap gel beads infused with weak heating magic. While initially made for boiling water without a flame on the trail, the peasantry had taken to them quickly, both for its original purpose and their own.
“Doubt any land owner worth their salt would warm their bath in such a way” he grumbles, disrobing as the bath began to steam. He leaves his armor heaped on the floor. He’d have to clean it before he left Candaeln, so much of it would probably be thrown in the tub to soak after he was done anyway. He sigh as he lowers himself into the tub, feeling the warmth wash over his torso as he settled into the tub, his knees hanging over the edge. He stenches his arms over his head, trying to remember if he’d bothered to lock the door. “…its probably fine,” he sighs, sinking back into the water, “doubt anyone is even aware this room exists, much less occupied or not.”
