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Rude. The drink had been a gesture of hospitality. Or something like that.
Ahmet returned to the bar and set down his empty tray. He shot Raider a suspicious look.
“You’re not harassing my customers, are you?”
“I must protest, Ahmet. I’ve worked very hard to keep him here. You were gone a long time. Smoking?”
Ahmet grinned then turned to Seth. “Lamb? Raaki? Wine?”
“Information,” Seth said. “And a room.”
A room? What a fabulous turn of events.
“My best room is available.”
“Ahmet,” Raider protested. “You promised me your best room.”
Seth turned to him. “You’re staying here? I thought you lived in this town.”
“You are just full of assumptions, aren’t you? But, yes, I live in this town. Sometimes.”
Ahmet offered, “Raider, you can have my second best room. And a free breakfast!”
“Eggs and pork loin,” Raider bargained. “Plus those delicious little hotcakes you made once, forty-seven years ago. The ones with the sesame seeds?”
“That was two months ago,” Ahmet corrected. He turned again to Seth, promising nothing in regard to breakfast, and said, “One denar per night.”
Raider kept his face still as Ahmet set about fleecing the Curator. Seth’s wry expression said he knew very well that he was being fleeced.
“I’m looking for the trader Jamil,” Seth said. “Know where I can find him?”
Recognizing the question as part of the haggling, Ahmet said, “He’s at the bathhouse.”
Oh, delight. This day just kept getting better.
“You’re sure?” Seth challenged.
Ahmet looked offended. “I shared a hookah with Nemea barely a moment ago.”
“She’s works there,” Raider supplied helpfully.
“Fine,” said Seth and levered himself off the stool to dig a denar from his pocket. As he slid the silver coin across the bar, he noticed Raider’s grin. “What’s so funny?”
Raider considered mentioning his own plans to visit the bathhouse, but he decided the Curator would derive far greater enjoyment from discovering that fact for himself.
“Oh, nothing,” he said.
CHAPTER 3
SHALAA’S BATHHOUSE WAS, actually, surprisingly nice. It might not match the grandeur of Masir’s bathhouses, but the large domed building boasted fine mosaic tilework throughout its honeycombed space, where steam rooms opened onto the central chamber.
As Seth walked through the large space, a blue and white patterned towel knotted at his waist, the humid air was a balm to his parched skin and lungs.
He twitched at the thought of his valuable clothes and weapons under the care of the bathhouse guard, but there was no help for that. He had to trust that he’d made himself sufficiently threatening to ensure that nothing would go missing while he located Jamil.
A steam room door opened to the left, emitting a burst of steam and three nude men. None of them matched Ahmet’s description of Jamil.
The men made their way to the stone benches along one of the six pools. Each lay face down to await a vigorous exfoliating scrub by one of the bathhouse attendants.
