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It was hard to clean the scent of blood from the human body when everything one owned was drenched in it. Katherine had plenty of prior experience cleaning wounds, and yet nothing had prepared her for the stench of the raid on Suchdol. It didn’t help that she had hardly any time to make a real attempt at cleansing herself of the viscera that she kept finding under fingernails and clinging to skirt hems. If Musa hadn’t been there, Katherine is certain she’d have lost her mind.
She was pretty sure she already had, anyways.
The early hours of the morning brought with them the only time she or Musa found any peace and quiet. The watchmen were switching shifts, the night-watch tired and the day-watch bleary, meaning nobody paid them much attention during that brief twilight. It seemed even the injured subconsciously respected their self-declared “break”, as hardly anyone in their makeshift infirmary woke during that time.
It was one of those mornings that Katherine decided she needed a bath.
She’d awoken before the sun crossed even the treeline, the world quiet and bathed in blue morning shade as the night-watch shook themselves awake to survive the last hour of their shift. Musa was not asleep on the hides they’d set up in a corner by the infirmary, where they were protected from the elements but still heard any concerning moans or groans. The man had told her before that he was a rather heavy sleeper, but she gave little thought to him not being there – honestly, she was barely awake enough to be aware where she placed her feet as she trudged to the baths with her remaining soap and linens in hand.
A candle was on in the baths, which Katherine assumed was from Zuzanna, the bathmaid that was an anxious but endearing presence in Suchdol. The girl helped her and Musa on occasion, and it was not unusual for her to wake early enough that even monks would find her mad. Assuming it was Zuzanna cleaning some laundry or something of the sort, she walked in without thinking to knock first.
Unfortunately, it was not Zuzanna. A traitorous part of her mind argued it was fortunate, however, that before her was Musa.
Her colleague stood in the tub, holding a pail above his head as he let water fall down his body and wash off the soap suds. His back was smooth, Katherine noted, unblemished and gleaming under the candlelight, a contrast to the skin of the mercenaries whose company she frequented. If she were not so surprised, she might have been flustered by the subtle movement of the muscles in his shoulders as he lowered the pail. Or his rather shapely behind. He froze, most definitely having noticed the intruder, and swiftly grabbed a sheet from a table nearby to wrap around his hips. He turns to face her, and his furrowed brows relax.
“Oh- Katherine. I’m relieved it is you,” He says, before freezing up once more, “I apologize profusely, I was not listening and should’ve warned you.”
“No, don’t apologize. I should’ve knocked,” She rebutted with her eyes averted from his bare, wet body that she certainly wasn’t thinking about, “It’s been a difficult few weeks, we’re all tired – I think we deserve a nice bath from time to time.”
Musa let out a dry chuckle, “I will agree with that.”
He reached for a towel with his free hand, the motion of which made him hiss in pain.
“Are you alright?” Katherine asked.
“Yes, yes – I think I just slept wrong.” He said, wincing as he rubbed at his shoulder. Katherine fidgeted with her skirt as she considered the apparent location of the pain.
“Mind if I take a look? I might be able to help.” She offered.
Musa hesitated, but nodded, “I don’t mean to impose-“
“Nonsense, now get comfortable. I can heat some more water if the bath’s gone cold.” She interrupted, hands on her hips.
She took a bucket out to the nearby well, and returned to pour it into the cauldron atop the still burning flame. While she was gone, Musa had sat back in the tub, slipping back under the soapy bubbles with a groan. As the water heated up, Katherine looked through the bathing supplies until she found a rather lovely-smelling oil infused with chamomile. She poured in the now warm water, and sat herself down by the tub with the oil.
“Are you still okay with me touching you?” She asked.
“Katherine, if I ever wasn’t there would be something seriously wrong.” He said, before immediately stuttering out, “I did not intend for that to come out so…”
“Flirty?” Katherine teased, to which Musa winced apologetically, “Musa, I’ve been a bathmaid and a tavern wench. I’ve heard much worse under far less dire of circumstances.”
Musa let out a sad sigh. Katherine began to dance her hands over his shoulders, feeling for anything out of the ordinary.
“I still do not understand why you were a bathmaid in Sigismund’s camp,” He said, “I think, sometimes, of how many lives might have been saved if they did not waste your skills in the baths.”
Katherine laughed dryly, “I think most of your patients would’ve died of shock at a woman treating them, so perhaps it was for the best.”
Musa frowned, though this was soon replaced with a grimace as she found the knot beneath his skin. She carefully massaged it out, eliciting a series of groans and breathy gasps from Musa that in the intimacy of the quaint bathhouse felt more tantalizing than any human sound had the right to be.
“That is a shame-“ He said, pausing as her hands traced delightful patterns over shoulders and back, “Is all of Bohemia so… close-minded?”
Katherine considered his question. “No, I don’t believe so. Like any other nation, it has it’s issues, but it holds great beauty as well.”
“And what do you think is the great beauty of Bohemia?” He asked, leaning his head back to look at her face. His eyes were black like the night in the still morning light, though they did not bring thoughts of the frightful unknown of nighttime, but rather thoughts of quiet, comforting moments under the stars.
“A few years back I went to Prague with Zizka; he had business there and needed someone good at blending in. One night I stumbled upon this quaint garden by the Charles bridge, where someone had planted flowers that bloom under moonlight. I still remember how enchanting it felt.” Katherine reminisced.
“Once this is all over, I would love for you to take me there.” Musa says, making her nearly choke on her own tongue.
“I don’t know if I could afford a trip like that.” Katherine said truthfully.
“Nonsense,” Musa interrupted, “What is the point of my wealth if not to spend it on beautiful and intelligent women?”
“You’re teasing me.” Katherine chuckled, ignoring the fluttering in her chest.
“No, I’m being rather serious. You do not have to answer now, but give it thought.” He replied.
Katherine gave him privacy as he dressed for the day, grabbing some towels to replace the ones they’d used. When she returned, Musa stepped out, dressed in rich blue robes. He gave Katherine a genuine smile. “You must teach me how to do that, so I may return the favour. I feel like a new man.” He exclaimed.
“I’m glad my skills impressed.” Katherine chuckled.
Musa gestured to the door, “I changed the water. It was the least I could do, so please go and relax.”
Katherine had already been rather certain she’d take up Musa’s offer, though this cemented her decision.
As she bathed in the warm water, Katherine considered Musa. She had realized from this ordeal that she was exhausted by fighting – the endless cycle of death and suffering that regardless of which side you took you would eventually inflict unto another. Katherine had begun to realize that her rage would not fuel her forever, and that she wanted peace. Perhaps she wanted peace alongside the quiet, intelligent Musa.
The bath ends and so does the raid, eventually, with much struggle and loss and bitter victory. As they bury the dead, and mourn their friends, Musa is there, a calm breeze blowing away the storm. If anybody notices their fingers intertwine at the celebration, nobody says anything. At least not at first - Adder and Janosh interrogate her the next morning while Henry and Zizka confront Musa over his intentions, which she chastises them for later. They are well-meaning, though lacking subtly as they ask her when this started like a pair of gossiping village elders. Katherine tells Jan (and his strange band of knights and mercenaries) of Musa’s offer, and he tells her she should not hesitate, that she deserves peace. He told her she had done more than enough, and that the world owed her in turn. She would tell Musa of his words one day, as a carriage took them through the villages of Bohemia on the way to Prague, and he would firmly agree.
In Prague, they saw the quaint garden under the moonlight. Then they visited the rest of the city. Musa attempted to paint and failed horrible, so he instead commissioned someone far more skilled than he to paint Katherine's quaint garden (she held his failed attempts just as dearly).
Eventually, their trip would conclude – after all, there is only so much you can see of a city. “Luckily for us,” Musa had said, “There are many other cities in the world.”
And so they went.