‘Let’s wait for morning,’ I said to Hamish, turning to William, ‘safer I imagine.’
‘Quite so Lady.’
I nodded, looking at my captain was a small beseeching smile. He saw it and shrugged, ‘I agree, I was foolish to think to start in nightfall.’
The two bands of men had mingled, sitting around the fire drinking tea. My father would not permit alcohol on this trip; however I had caught sight of several stainless steel canteens passing along the men. I suspected what they drank wasn’t tea.
I knew both William and Hamish would watch the men, I had no intention of getting in the way of their command. I had sent Sarah to find out about the new soliders, eager for whatever information she could find about my betrothed.
At my dismissal William and Hamish walked side by side back to the men, their complexions contrasting to each other. William was olive skinned and raven haired, his strength made him an impressive sight. However, he was soft spoken and aged the same or slightly younger then Hamish. Quickly the men began to make camp, setting up my tent and listening eagerly to Sarah as she recounted the herbs and meat she wanted them to hunt. Sarah wasn’t going to tell them she was a skilled hunter, rather playing the distressed servant in need of assistance. Men, Sarah has said to me, are easy to play with once they think they’re on top.
I moved back to the horses, patting the many picketed around our camp. All for one person. Me. I felt strange about it, how dangerous were these bandits that my band of ten men had to add another eight?
‘More dangerous then you know,’ William said, smiling shyly when I looked at him. ‘You’re wondering about all these men protecting you yes?’
‘Mind reader Mr William?’
He chuckled and ran his hand down one of the horses, a beautiful charger with intelligent brown eyes. ‘I merely understand compassion. I came to tell you your tent is ready.’
‘Thankyou.’
He hit his breast with a closed fist in a sign of respect a commander would expect.
‘William,’ I said, stopping him as surly if I held him there, ‘why do you show such respect to me? Why listen?’ I paused, unsure how to voice my thoughts. ‘I am a woman.’ I added wistfully.
He stared at me, not in an insulting, rather thoughtful manner.
‘Because,’ he said slowly, ‘you have the air of a leader, well-liked by your family’s men, calm, and your captain holds you in highest regard. He is no fool I am sure, so I am willing to follow his way.’
I thanked him again and turned back to the horses, ignoring the blaze from the fire. William took his leave, walking back over to the men. I followed him slowly after he had sat down, patting every horse to stall my return. There was something stable about horses. Treat them well, and they would stand by you, loyal to the steadfast, caring to the compassionate. They gave back the work you put into them. I walked back to the sound of nickers, sitting on a box and accepting a cup of tea. Dinner wasn’t far, and yet it felt a lifetime had passed until the hunters came back with rabbits hanging on strings. I sat with the men around me, learning their names and repeating them back. It seemed to amuse them and they would often ask me what their name was, or someone else’s. All the men, mine and the Lord Tomas’ alike were easy to get along with. I suspected they were chosen for that trait alone.
‘Joshua,’ I said, turning to the man beside me, ‘what is it like in West-field?’
‘Well Lady, it runs as any other. It is frightfully loud in the day, and has music tumbling from taverns at night. The civil war has taken many of our boys, and yet for the past year none have left for the army.’
‘That is true,’ Alistair said, a lizard tattoo snaking along his wrist. He looked interested in Joshua’s recount, ‘I had not noticed, but he is right. We have stopped sending soldiers, and cut half of our produce to the capital.’
I crocked my head thoughtfully, storing the information for a later date. Silently I accepted my meal and placed it on my knees. They all did the same, waiting for me to take the first bite and making me feel instantly uncomfortable. We ate in companionable silence, watching the world around us darken, and the shadows deepen. The men passed the flask around and I pretended not to notice.
‘Tell me a tale,’ I said to one of the men, passing my plate to Sarah. He smiled, easing his back into a log as he did the story.
‘There is mention of a woman who wanders our lands, holding within her hands a staff with an eye carved into the top so real some say they have witnessed it blink. Around her shoulders lies her protector and guardian, a cat – but not any sort. He is twice the size of any housecat, and twice as fierce. He has the colouring of a leopard and when he purrs it can be heard miles around in all directions. How she carries his weight no one knows, and yet she does as she wanders. The wanderer is known as The Watcher, her orange curls held at bay by a single threaded band. If ever you catch sight of the Watcher, you are sure to find adventure. She is the seeker of danger and the speaker of all languages. She can converse with you as she can any bird that flies her way.’
I listened with interest, watching the firelight flicker across his face. His hawklike nose cast shadows across his cheeks, creating a mysterious appearance.
‘The Watcher, none can slay her, she has lived more than one age – and she is likely to live for more. She is a being of time itself cast upon the land, watching and waiting for a time when famine is the tale I tell rather than reality, fear is spoken only in song alone and spilt blood is for the carcass of animals and not of men. She is the guardian of time, watcher of peace so to tell the warning of war.’
I thanked him for his strange tale and retired to my tent, leaving Sarah with the men. She would come later in the night with the gossip I could not learn myself. However what they said was interesting. Why would their master cease support to the King? We all feared the Dead King, from the highest noble to the chamber maid, to the beggars that lined the streets. He sat upon his throne it was said with malice spewing from his very presence. He was clothed in pitch black and spent most of his days alone within his tower, his servants’, inhumane creatures that had more than once feasted on any who came near. And yet, the rebels were led by a woman who held terrifying power, if she were to lose control she could kill hundreds. Who was the greater evil? Order was kept within the land, spewing malice or no.
I turned over on the cot bed, closing my eyes. What had led my mind to Lady Syron, the caller of men from their senses? I mentally shrugged, staring at my clothes neatly folded near me. Dressed only in a shift, I was at a disadvantage if we were attacked. I slid my arm under my pillow, feeling the dagger under it. Reassured I drifted into sleep.
o.O.o
I woke to something that made no sound. An instinct drove me as a figure silently slipped inside my tent. I made no movement but glanced around in the darkness for Sarah. I found her lying near me, curled in a ball with her head touching the tent wall. I watched the figure open my trunk, long fingers perfect for grasping a dagger’s handle. Watching for a moment longer, I waited to strike. When the thief had their back turned I moved. Slipping the dagger into my left hand I slipped the black hood away from the sneaker’s head and pressing my blade to their neck. A shock of red hair tumbled free, most tied back at the back of her head. Strands had come free and blew in around her face. She was a master thief, already blocking my knife with her dagger and spinning around to face me.
‘I have little gold on me, what you see are fine dresses. Could you lug such a prize without being caught?’ I asked quietly.
‘No,’ she conceded, ‘however my pack is sifting through many bags this night. We will snatch any gold that meets the air.’ She grimaced, turning her beauty into savagery, ‘especially from the king’s men.’
I reached behind my cot and pulled a small bag of coins into sight, ‘This is what you were looking for,’ I said, eyeing her as she crocked her head.
‘You have no plans to hand it to me do you,’ she sighed, ‘I wouldn’t either.’ She ducked and lunged like a cat, moving to knock me over. My heart leapt to my throat as the girl moved to place her dagger near Sarah’s neck. My fear changed to triumph as Sarah twisted, her own weapon in view as she blocked and slashed at the girl’s chest, blood beading on the girl’s upper arm. The thief hissed, standing back to view the minor injury.
‘Rose?’ a figure ducked into view, his own ghastly injury making me step back. His face was a wreck of cuts running down his face, the lips of each cut sewn carefully together.
‘Leave,’ I said coldly. The monster growled quietly like a feral beast, slipping back through the tent door with his ‘Rose’ close behind. Gripping the tent flap with two hands, the red haired beauty stared into my eyes, revealing bright eyes as beautiful as sphere emeralds.
‘I will meet you again.’ She vowed, ‘friend or foe I know not, only our souls speak the same language.’ Her eyes were sad for a moment longer before she turned and left.
‘CAPTAIN!’ I yelled, turning to slip my jacket over my shift. A head popped into the tent moments later, shielding his eyes as I pulled my breaches on.
‘I- there-’ I felt emotion and adrenaline fight for attention within my body, beads of sweat running races down my face.
‘Check the watch, I fear two lives have been lost.’ I said finally, shrugging fake control ‘I was attacked in my room.’
Hamish stepped closer, bending his head as he walked through the opening. I watched his eyes roam over my face, my arms, searching for any sign of blood or injury.
‘Madelaine.’ He walked closer, at a loss on how to comfort me. I moved a foot closer to him, then another. Suddenly my arms were wrapped around his stomach and he curled his own around me protectively.
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