Crimson and Gold

The situation in Aervelis started calming down significantly in the following days, mostly thanks to Lysandra’s vaccine.

Saria’s patrols—both during the night and during the day—got shorter or sometimes didn’t happen at all, giving her time for the long-overdue rest. During that period, she spent every possible moment with Lysandra.

The lovers were making up for all the time they lost in the past, enjoying each other’s company, almost forgetting about the troubles and the responsibilities waiting for them.

Like anything in life, those idyllic days didn’t last forever either.

Eventually, the persistent troubles and nagging responsibilities came knocking at their doors, reminding them that it wasn’t the time for their peaceful cottage life, yet.

In the first week of the new month, Saria’s informant finally sent a message she was waiting for. The ‘Children of Ardor’ were meeting again. This time, it was said to take place right at the heart of Aervelis, in the famous Bathhouse of Kings.

The Bathhouse was actually an entire complex dedicated to relaxation and health, built atop an artificially erected hill four hundred years ago.

It was constructed at the request of the Emperor Vespius III, who suffered from a rare condition requiring him to soak in a warm salt-water to lessen his chronic joint pain.

Vespius had a strong distrust of magic after being subjected to horrible torture by a magi as a child. Since then, he refused to ever use magical healing and only relied on medicine and alchemy.

During his diplomatic visit to Liung-Mun, Vespius met a local physician, who told him to soak in the hot springs of the Salt Mountains in three turns, each lasting one-third of an incense stick.

Initially skeptical, Vespius reluctantly did as the physician ordered. To his shock, the therapy brought outstanding effects, allowing the man to negotiate a very good trade deal between Liung-Mun and Aelius and finally get a peaceful night of sleep.

The only downside was that the therapy had to be repeated regularly. Hence, Vespius hired the most talented architects and ordered the construction of the Bathhouse.

The complex wasn’t open to everyone. Only those of an appropriate status could enter and enjoy its wonders, and only under the condition that they first received an invitation from the Emperor.

After Vespius’ passing, the high exclusivity of the Bathhouse remained, removing only the rule requiring the Emperor’s invitation.

Hearing that the cult planned their next meeting in a place of such high renown and right under the government’s nose meant that the members themselves were from the top circles.

It was something Saria wasn’t exactly surprised about, she dealt with enough secret societies and cults in her life to know that none of them could exist without an influential patronage. However, it did make getting in a bit more troublesome.

Originally, she planned to investigate the place with Eris, but the latest discovery forced her to change plans. She needed to be accompanied by someone with high enough status that would assure her freedom of movement without rousing suspicion.

The obvious choice was Lysandra. As the Princess of the Empire, her status was only inferior to the Crowned Prince and the Emperor. After some thought, Saria concluded that it would not only be too dangerous for her, but also someone from the royal family was bound to attract too much attention.

In the end, the choice landed on Zahra.

She had high status, but not too high, and she was extremely fluent at social interactions. One could say that she was the queen of banquets and any kind of parties. She thrived in that environment.

***

Zahra and Saria arrived at the Bathhouse around ten in the evening.

Both dressed in fashionable evening gowns, they got out of Merea’s carriage and casually walked to the front entrance, hand in hand.

“Lady Merea!? My deepest apologies. The Bathhouse is unavailable at the moment,” the guard said, bowing deeply before Zahra. “There is a special event happening tonight.”

Saria took a good look at the man tending to the entrance.

He was quite young and a little jumpy. Considering that he was designated to be at the front gate meant that he couldn’t be a complete rookie, but she could tell from his reaction that he wasn’t all that experienced either.

That was a good thing. Someone like him was easy to get through with enough wits.

Nevertheless, Saria remained silent—as per their agreement—and allowed her companion to do the talking.

“I know. This is why I’m here,” Zahra replied, gesturing at her brand new dress.

It was made out of layered turquoise, sheer fabric, with opalescent threads running from its hem all the way to the waistline. With every move, the threads shimmered in the light, appearing akin to ocean waves.

The dress’ exposed back was decorated by dozens of delicate golden chains hanging loosely from Zahra’s shoulders.

Her black braided hair was arranged in a tall bun, revealing two big, golden earrings dangling from her ears that matched the necklace and the bracelet she was wearing.

In short, Lady Merea was obviously ready for a party.

Realizing this, the young guard’s eyes went wide in shock. “O-oh! I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t know you were one of the Believers,” he bowed a few times apologetically.

Zahra looked at the apologetic eyes from under her eyelashes and smiled with only one side of her full lips.

“You must be new here,” she said, letting out a sigh that meant she was starting to get tired of this conversation. “I’ve been traveling for the past six months, so I didn’t have a chance to participate. Lord Dieneces insisted that I absolutely must join him today.”

“If Lord Dieneces invited you personally, then you’re free to enter, but…” the guard looked awkwardly at Saria.

The woman was dressed in a more modest dress than her companion, but the expensive red fabric accentuated her perfect shape and stunning beauty. Even though she was obviously someone from the noble circles, the guard didn’t recognize her. “I’ve been instructed not to allow anyone unfamiliar,” he added.

Zahra gasped audibly, covering her mouth with her palm. Her eyes jumped between the guard and Saria a few times. Finally, she leaned closer with a mortified expression on her face.

“By the Gods! Don’t tell me you’re not recognizing my distinguished companion?” Zahra whispered dramatically.

The guard’s eyes went wide again. He looked at Saria again, his face getting paler by the minute.

Noticing the mixture of confusion and panic on his face, Zahra inhaled sharply through her teeth. “Well… Looks like someone is getting fired after tonight…” she muttered under her breath loud enough for the man to hear her.

Naturally, the guard turned even paler. “A-ah… ahaha… Yes! O-of course! Of course!” he smacked his forehead while laughing awkwardly. “I recognize the… um… the…”

Zahra leaned in. “The…”

“The…the…” the guard repeated a few times, looking more and more like he was about to asphyxiate on the spot. “T-the…”

“The second daughter of the third uncle of the fifth wife of Marquee Ginerel…” Zahra finally said, granting mercy upon the man. “Countess Châmillane of Challeveu!”

“Yes! Of course! Countess Châmillane of Challeveu!” The guard exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “My apologies, Countess, it’s quite dark, and my sight isn’t the best, so I didn’t realize… Please, come in. I hope you’ll enjoy the party.”

This entire time, Saria remained completely quiet, focusing mostly on looking like her presence there was the most natural thing.

Seeing that the attention was finally focused on her, the ‘Countess’ took a page out of Lysandra’s book and raised her chin with regal nonchalance.

“Très bien. But next time, don’t make me wait so long or I’ll take your head back to Challeveu as a trophy,” Saria said with a thick Northern Rhodran accent.

It was too much for Zahra, who had to hide her laugh behind coughs. Saria managed to keep her face straight, but only barely.

Fortunately, the guard was so terrified that he tripped over his own feet while opening the door for them, then bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, not daring to raise his eyes as they walked past him.

Making sure they were out of his ear’s reach, Saria finally allowed her facial muscles to relax.

“So where exactly is Challeveu?” she asked as they walked into the main building.

“In ‘Gone with the Sandstorm’,” Zahra said proudly. “It’s fiction. The accent was a nice touch, tough. You can speak Rhodran?”

“Just enough to fool a guard or two,” Saria laughed. “Your improvisation skills are no joke. You’d make an excellent spy.”

Zahra took two wine goblets from the servant and passed one to Saria. “What makes you think I’m not one already?” she asked, flashing a cunning smile.

***

The Bathhouse of Kings consisted of three separate buildings, arranged in the ‘u’ shape atop the hill. The open space in the center was designated for various outdoor activities, mainly those involving drinking and bathing.

There was also an impressive-sized labyrinth, which wasn’t a part of the original complex, but was added only recently, by the former Emperor.

Both the main hall, located in the center, and the two buildings in the eastern and western parts of the hill remained mostly intact since the day of their construction.

Vespius spared no gold on the Bathhouse, coating each part of it with the highest quality marble, aurelianite, and—of course—gold. He also hired the most talented artists of his time, so the Bathhouse was replete with inconspicuous details, lavish ornaments, and delicate patterns.

When Saria first entered the main hall, her first thought was that the Bathhouse truly deserved its name.

Splendor was pouring from the walls decorated with colorful, life-like deceptions of Vespius’ favorite myths. Rows of lecti made out of the finest, exotic wood offered a moment of respite to those tired of soaking in the crystal clear, inviting water.

The central area hosted two giant pools, separated by a stage positioned slightly below the floor level, to make it more comfortable for the guests to watch the show while enjoying the water.

Judging by the pillows, settees, and sheets of deep red fabric arranged on the stage, Saria and Zahra managed to arrive before the big show of the evening.

“So where do we start?” Lady Merea asked, finishing the wine she snatched right after her arrival.

“We need to find someone who knows the man who gave the drug to Beatrice,” Saria said, scanning the room for potential candidates. “Or if we’re really lucky, the man himself.”

Zahra shifted the weight from one leg to another, while stretching her already long neck to take a better look at the crowd. “It would be easier if we knew anything beyond ‘tall, short hair, brown eyes’. We’re in Aelius for gods’ sake. Everyone here is tall with short hair and brown eyes!”

Saria couldn’t deny it, her companion had a point. Unfortunately, despite all of the digging she did, no other information on the man surfaced. It was all they got.

“We should split up. It will be easier if each of us focuses on one side of the complex. We can meet here at midnight.” The Bathhouse was even bigger on the inside than it appeared. The number of participants also surprised Saria. For a supposedly secret cult, there were enough guests to fill the entire Aervelian market.

Just from her estimates, there had to be over two hundred people in the main hall alone!

As Saria was agonizing over how she was going to find anyone in such a crowd, a sudden commotion on the stage caught her attention.

Accompanied by a band of musicians, a group of people dressed in plain white sheets gathered at the center.

Counting fifteen people, the assemblage consisted of both men and women at various ages. The youngest, by Saria’s guess, couldn’t be older than twenty-five, while the oldest was easily in his eighties.

“Are they going to perform some kind of play?” Zahra wondered. “Perhaps this cult is more refined than I thought.”

Just as she finished speaking, it became painfully clear what kind of ‘play’ it was going to be.

The steady rhythm of drums shifted, became faster, more tense. The aulos released a haunting wail, then joined the accompanying instruments, singing a disturbing yet captivating melody.

In an instant, the people at the center of the stage cast away their only piece of clothing and started dancing to the music.

Whistles, excited screams, and ovations erupted from the crowd. Some were raising their cups high, others hurried closer to get a better look.

The people on the stage didn’t seem to care in the slightest that their naked bodies were exposed to everyone. The more the crowd cheered, the more encouraged they seemed. Even their dance changed, looking more and more ambiguous.

“Oh, by the dearest gods, don’t tell me they are going to—” the words got stuck in Zahra’s throat, as she felt a wave of nausea sweeping through her.

Saria felt no better watching the crowd on the stage cast all pretenses aside and fully indulge in the carnal joys. “That’s… That’s an orgy.”

“I’m going to need more alcohol for that.” Gagging, Zahra located the nearest waiter with wine and in one sweep downed one cup and grabbed another for later.

The only comfort in this whole mess was that the wine was indeed exquisite.

The situation left Saria utterly speechless and even more disgusted. “Do you know any spells to wipe someone’s memory?

“No. But I know how to remove eyeballs without killing.”

Saria closed her eyes and frowned. “Too late. The image is already engraved in my brain forever.”

Zahra took another big sip of the wine and was about to look away, to save her sanity, when, among the squirming crowd, she noticed someone familiar. “Wait a minute… Isn’t that… Isn’t that Senator Boracci?”

She stood up on her toes and stretched her neck above the crowd. “It is him. It is that bloody skunk.”

Mimicking her companion, Saria also craned her neck and looked at the stage. “Which one?”

“That old fart humping the air,” Zahra said, gritting her teeth. The discovery immediately dispelled the discomfort, leaving nothing but pure anger in her burning eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this useless bastard to approve the construction of a supervised clinic in the poorest districts forever, because he was supposed to be ‘indisposed due to illness’.”

Lady Merea drank the remaining wine in one go. “Indisposed my ass.” She glared at the elderly man, fuming. “I’m going to get my approval, and I’ll see what I can gather about that mystery man.”

“I’ll go look around too. We’ll meet at midnight.”