Pug turned toward the hall down which he had seen movement. He passed through a low side door into a shadowy corridor. In places the roof had lost several tiles, so that occasionally light shone down from above, making it easy for the boy to find his way. He passed two empty rooms, he suspected they might be sleeping quarters.
He turned a corner to find himself before the door of an odd-looking room and entered. The walls were tile mosaics, of sea creatures sporting in the foam with scantily dressed men and women. The style of art was new to Pug. The few tapestries and fewer paintings on display in the Duke’s halls were all very lifelike, with muted colors and detailed execution in the finish. These mosaics were suggestive of people and animals without capturing details.
In the floor was a large depression, like a pool, with steps leading down before him Out of the wall opposite obtruded a brass fish head, hanging over the pool. The nature of the room was beyond Pug.
As if someone had read his thoughts, a voice from behind said, “It is a tepidanum.”
Pug turned and saw a man standing behind him. He was of average height, with a high forehead and deep-set black eyes. There were streaks of grey at the temples of his dark hair, but his beard was black as night. He wore a brown robe of simple material, a whipcord belt around the waist. In his left hand he held a sturdy oak staff. Pug came on guard, holding the long hunting knife before him.
“Nay, lad. Put up your scramasax, I mean you no harm.” He smiled in a way that made Pug relax.
Pug lowered his knife and said, “What did you call this room?”
“A tepidarium,” he said, entering the room. “Here warm water was piped into the pool, and bathers would remove their clothing and place them on those shelves.” He pointed to some shelves against the rear wall.
“Servants would clean and dry the clothing of dinner guests while they bathed here.”
Pug thought the idea of dinner guests bathing at someone’s home in a group a novel one, but he said nothing. The man continued, “Through that door”—he pointed to a door next to the pool—“was another pool with very hot water, in a room called a calidanum. Beyond was another pool with cold water in a room called a fngidarium. There was a fourth room called the unctonum, where servants would rub down the bathers with scented oils. And they scraped their skins with wooden sticks. They didn’t use soap then.”
Pug was confused by all the different bathing rooms. “That sounds like a lot of time spent getting clean. This is all very odd.”
The man leaned on his staff. “So it must seem to you, Pug. Still, I expect those that built this house would consider your keep halls strange as well.”
Pug started. “How did you know my name?”
The man smiled again. “I heard the tall soldier call you by name as you approached the building. I was watching you, keeping out of sight until I was sure you were not pirates come to seek ancient loot. Few pirates come so young, so I thought it would be safe to talk to you.”
Pug studied the man. There was something about him that suggested hidden meanings in his words. “Why would you speak with me?”
The man sat on the edge of the empty pool. The hem of his robe was pulled back, revealing cross-gartered sandals of sturdy construction. “I am alone mostly, and the chance to speak with strangers is a rare thing. So I thought to see if you would visit with me awhile, for a few moments at least, until you return to your ship.”
Pug sat down also, but kept a comfortable distance between himself and the stranger. “Do you live here?”
The man looked around the room. “No, though I once did, long ago.” There was a contemplative note in his voice, as if the admission were calling up long-buried memories.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled again, and Pug felt his nervousness vanish. There was something reassuring about his manner, and Pug could see that he intended no harm. “Mostly I am called the traveler, for many lands have I seen. Here I am sometimes known as the hermit, for so I live. You may call me what you like. It is all the same.”
Pug looked at him closely. “Have you no proper name?”
“Many, so many that I have forgotten a few. At the time of my birth I was given a name, as you were, but among those of my tribe it is a name known only to the father and the mage-priest.”
Pug considered this. “It is all very strange, much like this house. Who are your people?”
The man called the traveler laughed, a good-natured chuckle. “You have a curious mind, Pug, full of questions. That is good.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Where are you and your companions from? The ship in the bay flies the Natalese banner of Bordon, but your accent and dress are of the Kingdom.”
Pug said, “We are of Crydee,” and gave the man a brief description of the journey. The man asked a few simple questions, and without being aware of it, Pug found that soon he had given a full accounting of the events that had brought them to the island, and the plans for the rest of the journey.
When he had finished, the traveler said, “That is a wondrous story indeed. I should think there will be many more wonders before this strange meeting of worlds is finished.”