Crimson Ring Chapter 12

The bath, as it turned out, was more opulent than anything Raven had seen in Bhadestan, and that counts Carrion’s tower. The wash basin was large enough to accommodate his full body with plenty of room to spare, and the water itself was filled to the lip, an appalling waste of the precious resource. Beside the tub, stacks of crystalline blocks that resembled masonry bricks, some two dozen in total. Half glowed softly with alchemical blue light, the other a soft red. 

Raven stared down at the sight before him, struggling to stifle his rising anger. The sight of so much freely accessible water and alchemy threatened to undo all the good will the team had garnered watching them operate among the people. The water alone was more than the people the first sword cared so much for could afford to buy in a week. Judging by the quality of it, which was perfectly clear, it was no doubt good enough to drink, which would actually make the water more valuable.

The alchemical blocks were just as valuable. One brick of the blue alchemy would last a family a week or more, and would be critical in everything from preserving food to cooling the dwellings anytime outside of the still barely tolerable heat of the midday winters. 

As for the red alchemy, spirits, no family would waste the coin on the luxury of heating alchemy. Fire was better than anything else for cooking, and animal furs did just fine with taking the chill off the body once the sun retreated below the sand.

And yet, he shook his head, these strike teams wasted such resources on a single bath. For all he knew, this type of washroom wasn’t some perk for the elite strike teams and was enjoyed by every peacekeeper. Either way, it left a sour taste in his mouth.

Raven faced a genuine crisis of conscience for the first time in longer than he could remember. It had been right around a decade and a half since he struggled as one of the hopeless outer ring urchins. Since that time, he had accumulated more wealth than he had ever dared to dream of. He had indulged in his fair share of luxuries, both inside the Sovereign Cities and in lands beyond. But after this reminder, immersing himself with the people—his people—he was reminded of the desperation and hopelessness he felt. The guilt was nearly enough to make him outright refuse the bath.

Ultimately, the thing that pushed him to climb into the basin was, frankly, necessity. Especially after the day he had, he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted a bath so badly. And there was nowhere else to go. He was no longer a resident of the outer ring and would not be welcomed at any of the communal baths.

Besides, there was an etiquette to the washhouses. With the layers of filth on his body, even if he was a resident, he was quite literally too filthy to bathe in the communal baths. Spirits, if someone tried to enter a wash house looking as filthy as he was, they would be taken out front with a coarse brush and forced to scrub away the dirt and grime before entering. He’d seen it happen on more than one occasion. 

With a grimace, he disarmed, setting his assortment of weapons on the floor beside the tub, then stripped out of his filthy clothes and brought them over to the far side of the room, where a large bucket was filled with a pungent alchemical mix. He hesitated a moment, glancing down at the level of combined dirt and dried blood, and wondered if it might be better to just burn the damn things. Instead, he tossed it all into the liquid, then returned to the large basin and climbed in setting none of the alchemical bricks to adjust the temperature. By sheer necessity, he reached for the bottle that rested on the small lip of a shelf protruding from the side of the tub and poured in a generous amount of the cleansing agent.

A strong, medicinal odor rose from the water, and he could feel the tingling spread across his skin as the agent spread through the water. As he settled back into a comfortable position, the dirt and dust on his skin broke down and lifted away in murky clouds that stained the water for only a moment before returning to pristine clarity. 

Raven stayed in the bath only long enough to thoroughly clean his body, most of which was spent cleaning the sand, grit, and clay from his locs. By the time he dried himself and made it back to the small bucket, the clothing was clean, if a bit damaged from the extreme activity. Once again, necessity forced his hand, and he set his clothing atop the stack of red glowing crystal bricks. The cleansing liquid dried almost on contact with the heat, and in just a few minutes, the clothing was dry enough to put back on. 

When he stepped back out into the hall, Breach was the only member of the team still standing there. She gave him a long look, then offered a single nod. “You did well out there today, recruit.”

Raven returned the nod and walked off. There was a measure of understanding in that shared moment. Much of what the washroom—and indeed the garrison as a whole—threatened to undermine about his high regard of the team, their purpose, and the authenticity of their commitment to the people of the outer ring districts was restored. It wasn’t the simple understanding of words left unspoken that did anything. Rather, it was the reality that their shared experience, the desperation of how hard they fought for the sake of the people.

By the time he made it to his room and settled onto his way too comfortable bed and looked up at the twin orbs roughly the size of his head that hung from the low ceiling—one glowing a soft red, the other a slightly more vibrant blue. Both perfectly balanced the temperature—his guilt might have reached its apex. His mind kept going back to the child he and the first sword had helped. The meager conditions her family lived in compared to the comfortable bed he lounged on twisted his belly into knots.

The door crashed open. Raven had pushed himself half to his feet and had a knife in his hand, arm cocked and ready to throw. He paused, then narrowed his eyes and lowered his hand. 

Mixer staggered in, still as filthy as he had looked when the team first arrived at the garrison, arms loaded with a canvas sack full to bursting. He set the bag down just inside the doorway, his red-rimmed eyes glaring down to the polished stone floor as he mumbled angrily under his breath, then spun and stormed out without a word, releasing another cloud of dust.

“Ugh…thanks,” Raven called out, just before the door swung close.

It opened again immediately, and this time, a beautiful woman stepped into view. She wore a flowing brown sleeveless dress that perfectly complemented her brown complexion. Her hair was shaved short, emphasizing a pleasantly round face, and high cheekbones. At the sight of Raven’s reaction, her full lips curved into a slight grin.

Raven scrambled upright, eyes wide, and fumbled for something to say. But something about the woman sparked an edge of recognition, which was surprising, considering he would have remembered her. Still, she struck him as familiar, so much so that now it bothered him, causing him to look beyond the initial shock of her presence…and then his eyes widened in recognition.

Rail grinned. “Pick your jaw up from the floor, love. You had your chance already.” She gestured with a thumb over her shoulder. “The team is going to hang for a bit in the rec room. You should join us.”

“No thank you,” Raven said.

Rail smiled. “That wasn’t exactly a request, sunshine. Truth is, we don’t know you. To survive days like today, we need to maintain team chemistry. Right now, we have none with you.”

Raven sighed, then shrugged. “According to the first sword, I won’t be part of team Dark long enough to build any real chemistry, anyway. But fine.”

Rail nodded and walked out, leaving the door open for Raven to follow. Reluctantly, he climbed to his feet, waited a few extra moments to put distance between them, for no other reason than to avoid unnecessary small talk, and then followed behind.

In the large day room, Breach and Titan sat at a small square table. Two more chairs sat unoccupied. Rail took the one opposite Breach. That left the last space for Raven, opposite the towering man they called Titan.

Like Rail, Breach and Titan looked dramatically different outside of the blood and dust coated uniforms. But of the three, it was Titan that held Raven’s attention. Not only was the man meaner and nastier looking than Raven expected beneath the grime, but the man wasn’t even of the Sovereign Cities. His deep brown skin and sharp, angular features, and even the impressive height, were all hallmarks of natives of the neighboring Kulthene Empire.

Raven’s belly turned to ice in the hard chair as his mind went back to the passing comment on his first introduction to the man. He’d been distracted by far more important things at the time, but Titan had used the term vanquished when he referred to himself. Spirits above and below, surely this man wasn’t one of The Vanquished.

Titan noticed Raven’s unusual attention and frowned. “Is there a problem, little bird man?”

Raven held his eye for a moment and considered if he should ask the question on the tip of his tongue. Ultimately, his curiosity won out. “Tell me. The name Titan, that’s what the team calls you, isn’t it? That isn’t what you call yourself, is it?”

Breach and Rail both glanced at Raven.

Titan offered a single nod as an answer.

Breach rolled her eyes. “Of course not. Leave it to that big lump of muscle and everyone would walk around calling him The Conquered.”

Rail shook her head. “Really, though. Embarrassing for the whole team, if you ask me. I mean, who’s gonna take us seriously if our intimidator—and let’s be honest, Titan is definitely the intimidator of the team—but who would take us seriously if our muscle walks around calling himself The Defeated?”

“Vanquished,” Raven corrected, before the big man said a word.

“Same difference,” Breach said with an offhanded wave of her hand.

“It is not,” Titan rumbled.

“Alright, alright,” Rail said, seeing that the man had gathered himself to say a good deal more. “Please don’t get him started. Listen, I’ve never seen the man so much as get touched in a scrap, yet he wants to go around calling himself The Beaten.”

Titan brought his large hand down onto the center of the table, causing the wooden slats that had been divided in even face down piles in front of each of them to erupt in all directions.

Titan half rose from his chair and boomed in a thundering voice. “I am Vanquished!”

Breach and Rail exchanged annoyed looks, then both rolled their eyes and sighed. Rail gestured at the table. “Titan, you’re gonna pick up all those slats, shuffle, and deal out fresh hands.”

Titan hesitated for a long moment, released a long breath, then bent down to retrieve the slats that had fallen around the table. Everyone stayed quiet, letting the big man’s temper fully cool. When he settled back into his chair and began shuffling the slats again, he shrugged. “I needed to shuffle again, anyway. You two cheat.”

Rail and Breach recoiled in unison, both looking affronted. Breach turned to Titan. “You’ve been with me the whole time.”

Titan shrugged. “You always find a way.”

Rail shook her head. “I can’t believe we have to endure this type of slander.”

Raven reached across the table and tapped a knuckled in front of Rail. He pointed below the table, to where he had watched the woman slide a slat under when the cards went flying in all directions, and nodded to the pile Titan had begun shuffling.

Rail sucked her teeth and reached under the table. She brought up the wooden piece and glared at Breach. “It was your idea to invite him.”

Breach gave Raven a wary look and shrugged. “You know the sword won’t gamble with us, Breeze comes and goes like the wind, and Mixer will disappear as soon as he’s finished bathing.”

“If he even decides to bathe today,” Rail added.

Breach screwed up her face. “Right. But it was Raven or we wait until the next time one of us takes a quarrel in the back and creates a vacancy for a chance at a fourth regular player.” Titan’s grumble made Breach pause. She turned to the big man. “What? Too soon?”

Raven watched the three with keen interest. He settled his attention back on Titan, who was still shuffling the slats. “You haven’t told them yet, have you?”

Rail arched a manicured brow at Raven, then shared a brief glance with Breach. “Told us what?”

Titan’s expression remained impassive for a long moment, then he gave a slow shake of his head. “No. I have said what was required of me upon every initial introduction. I do not plan to say more.”

Raven nodded, understanding the big man’s desires. He didn’t mention the vanquished again, and Breach and Rail were happy to let the topic die.

Breach turned to Raven. “You do know how to play scythe, don’t you?”

Raven nodded. “Of course.”

She gave him a sideways look. “But which rule set? What’s your top three?”

Raven narrowed his eyes. “Emperor is the high tile, then the Vessel of Chaos, then the Ebon Horse.”

Breach paused, lips pursed, then nodded her approval. She turned to Titan. “Deal.”

Raven quickly settled into the tile game and, to his genuine surprise, actually enjoyed himself. Despite the fact that by the third game, their once friendly matches had money on the line, and both Breach and Rail getting caught cheating a combined five times, Raven didn’t mind their company. 

Even after the evening chow had finished and Breeze joined the group when they returned to the games, Raven could have made his exit and returned to his room, or even taken advantage of the generous workout facility just down the hall. Instead, to his utter surprise, he stayed and played and laughed and drank. Raven, a lone assassin of the Bloody Murder, actually had fun with a team of colleagues.