Read Online Avelynn: The Edge of Faith by Marissa Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Marissa Campbell
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near the central hearth drew my attention. Several maids carried buckets of water into the room.
The cottage held meager furnishings. A table stood nearest the door. Several shelves hung from the walls. Chests and crates lined the worn surfaces. Two ledges along the side wall, typically used for sleeping, were instead piled high with jugs, buckets, and baskets. Along the back wall, a slat-framed bed with feather mattress filled the space, with lush furs sprawled over the top. Several stones cooked in the flames of a raised hearth.
I tested the water in the tub with a cautious forefinger. It was cool. A bench, tucked within reach, served as a table. A bowl of tallow soap, a sponge, a stoppered terracotta urn, and an antler comb lay at the ready.
A stocky woman, dark hair streaked with gray, motioned to the bath.
I nodded my understanding. She would attend me.
She barely reached the height of my nose but was nonetheless in charge. She shooed the remaining women out of the cottage and bolted the lock home. With a pair of heavy iron tongs, she removed the hot rocks from the hearth and dropped them one at a time, hissing, into the bath water. She tested the temperature. After the fifth stone, she removed them from the tub and placed them back in the fire. She looked at me expectantly and then tugged at her tunic.
I stood facing her, my arms outstretched.
She made quick work of my leather belt and bid me to sit to remove my shoes and socks. She had me stand once more and grabbed hold of the hem of my dress. Given her stature, I wondered how she would manage to get it over my head. I lifted my arms and matters were remedied as I leaned down just enough for her to help me shimmy out of my clothing.
She set my garments in a small basket, clearly intending to launder them after she saw to my bath. I protested, gesticulating madly, since I had no change of clothes, but she pointed to several crates in the far corner of the room. At first glance, I’d not paid attention to them. The lids displayed a familiar serpentine design and marked them as the boxes Ealhswith had fetched from my cottage in Wedmore. Ealhswith had taken great pains to ensure they were loaded on board Raven’s Blood before she and Alrik sailed out to rescue me from Demas. Since Alrik had commanded Tollak to row the boat upriver, he must have had all my possessions brought to the cottage.
“Thank you,” I said.
She rewarded me with a tentative smile. She set a stool beside the tub and helped me up and over the edge. I slid into the luxuriously hot water. This time I did moan. I closed my eyes, feeling the silk of the water lave over my legs, belly, and breasts, and sank deeper, until the water lapped at my shoulders. I leaned back and rested my head against the rim of the tub. How long had it been since I’d had a bath? I tried to think back. I’d had a wash basin for the wedding ceremony with Demas, and before that, scented wash water came as part of Halfdan’s gift when I was his prisoner. As for a full bath, that would have been in Wedmore. A world ago.
I could have lain in that tub forever, melting into the water, letting the world flow around me, but a slight touch on my arm had me sitting forward. Tilting my chin up, she leaned my head back. Water sluiced through my hair. Deft fingers applied the soap, kneading my scalp. The delicate scent of lavender and rosemary enveloped me. Strong, consistent pressure ran along my hairline. Her fingertips circled to my temples, above my ears, and up the back of my head, rubbing and pressing. Blunt nails grazed, shooting gooseflesh down my spine. After rinsing the soap from my hair, she plucked the stopper from the urn. Subtle notes of myrrh and frankincense lifted into the air. She worked the oil through the tangled tresses, the wide-toothed comb teasing out the knots. My body melted into the rhythm of her hands. My eyes grew heavy, my breathing deep, my mind still.
A loud bang on the door jerked me upright,
The cottage held meager furnishings. A table stood nearest the door. Several shelves hung from the walls. Chests and crates lined the worn surfaces. Two ledges along the side wall, typically used for sleeping, were instead piled high with jugs, buckets, and baskets. Along the back wall, a slat-framed bed with feather mattress filled the space, with lush furs sprawled over the top. Several stones cooked in the flames of a raised hearth.
I tested the water in the tub with a cautious forefinger. It was cool. A bench, tucked within reach, served as a table. A bowl of tallow soap, a sponge, a stoppered terracotta urn, and an antler comb lay at the ready.
A stocky woman, dark hair streaked with gray, motioned to the bath.
I nodded my understanding. She would attend me.
She barely reached the height of my nose but was nonetheless in charge. She shooed the remaining women out of the cottage and bolted the lock home. With a pair of heavy iron tongs, she removed the hot rocks from the hearth and dropped them one at a time, hissing, into the bath water. She tested the temperature. After the fifth stone, she removed them from the tub and placed them back in the fire. She looked at me expectantly and then tugged at her tunic.
I stood facing her, my arms outstretched.
She made quick work of my leather belt and bid me to sit to remove my shoes and socks. She had me stand once more and grabbed hold of the hem of my dress. Given her stature, I wondered how she would manage to get it over my head. I lifted my arms and matters were remedied as I leaned down just enough for her to help me shimmy out of my clothing.
She set my garments in a small basket, clearly intending to launder them after she saw to my bath. I protested, gesticulating madly, since I had no change of clothes, but she pointed to several crates in the far corner of the room. At first glance, I’d not paid attention to them. The lids displayed a familiar serpentine design and marked them as the boxes Ealhswith had fetched from my cottage in Wedmore. Ealhswith had taken great pains to ensure they were loaded on board Raven’s Blood before she and Alrik sailed out to rescue me from Demas. Since Alrik had commanded Tollak to row the boat upriver, he must have had all my possessions brought to the cottage.
“Thank you,” I said.
She rewarded me with a tentative smile. She set a stool beside the tub and helped me up and over the edge. I slid into the luxuriously hot water. This time I did moan. I closed my eyes, feeling the silk of the water lave over my legs, belly, and breasts, and sank deeper, until the water lapped at my shoulders. I leaned back and rested my head against the rim of the tub. How long had it been since I’d had a bath? I tried to think back. I’d had a wash basin for the wedding ceremony with Demas, and before that, scented wash water came as part of Halfdan’s gift when I was his prisoner. As for a full bath, that would have been in Wedmore. A world ago.
I could have lain in that tub forever, melting into the water, letting the world flow around me, but a slight touch on my arm had me sitting forward. Tilting my chin up, she leaned my head back. Water sluiced through my hair. Deft fingers applied the soap, kneading my scalp. The delicate scent of lavender and rosemary enveloped me. Strong, consistent pressure ran along my hairline. Her fingertips circled to my temples, above my ears, and up the back of my head, rubbing and pressing. Blunt nails grazed, shooting gooseflesh down my spine. After rinsing the soap from my hair, she plucked the stopper from the urn. Subtle notes of myrrh and frankincense lifted into the air. She worked the oil through the tangled tresses, the wide-toothed comb teasing out the knots. My body melted into the rhythm of her hands. My eyes grew heavy, my breathing deep, my mind still.
A loud bang on the door jerked me upright,
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