“Are you going to punish me?” My voice cracked slightly.
“No.” Keir handed his reins to one of the guards who came up. He turned with an odd expression on his face. “I won’t need to.”
Just then, the tent flap pulled back. I turned, startled, to find one very angry Marcus standing there. His scarred face transformed into a snarl of rage.
I gulped, and stepped back a pace, bumping into Keir.
“Where have the likes of you been?” His voice cut through the night. “Had to send Hisself out to find you, that I did.” He moved back to allow me to step into the tent. “How hard is it to find the tent of Simus? Eh? Then return here?” he glared at me, his hands on his hips. “Where have you been?” He frowned, then drew in a deep breath. His eye widened and his face screwed up in disgust. Keir had followed me into the tent, and I heard a soft chuckle from behind me. Marcus’s glare deepened as he raked his eye over my clothes. I looked down. For the first time I noticed the stains and wrinkles. I swallowed hard and looked over my shoulder for help.
None was forthcoming. Keir arched an eyebrow at me. “I’ll return after awhile.” I could have sworn he grinned as he turned away and left the tent.
“No sense, no sky-blessed brains.” Marcus grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me into the back sleeping area. “Been rolling in the muck pits, eh?” He vanished for a moment and returned with a sheet. “
Strip and wrap up in this.”
“Marcus, I…”
That one eye glared at me fiercely. I grabbed the sheet and held it to me as I slid out of my shirt.
“Hisself says ‘take care of warprize, look after warprize.” Marcus stomped off with the shirt. I took the opportunity to shed the rest and get the sheet wrapped around me. His voice floated out of the other room. “Doesn’t tell Marcus that the warprize doesn’t have the brains that the elements gave a gosling.”
He stomped back in and gathered up my stuff, holding it at arms length. He fixed me with another glare. “
Standing there? When there is hot water going cold?” He gestured into the privy area.
I moved rapidly, but with some dignity into that room, closing the flap behind me. Marcus followed me in. “Stand there.” He pointed to the wooden platform in the center. “Water drains out below. You understand? Or do I need to wash you myself?” His one eye cut into me as I shook my head and clutched my sheet tighter around me.
Exasperated, he flung up his hands. “Warprize you may be, but nothing there I’ve not seen before.” With that he stomped out, but his voice pierced the canvas as he left. “Gosling? Did I say gosling?” He growled out the words. “More like the brains of an ox.”
I cringed back from the door, and stood for a moment, getting my heart and breath under control. Really, Marcus was no different from Anna, right? I kept trying to convince myself of that as I turned and found four buckets of water steaming there, and soap and scrub rags waiting on a small table. Marcus was still talking, his voice fading in and out as he moved about. Thankfully, I couldn’t make out the details.
There were stones under the platform and I realized that it had some sort of drain underneath it. I dropped the blanket, stood on the platform, and carefully poured some of the first bucket over my head and body. The warm water felt wonderful. I grabbed the soap and rags and started to lather, working over every inch of my body and up into my hair. I missed the great pools of the castle bath house, where you could soak in the warm water up to your neck. But this must pass for luxury in an army camp. I relished the feel of the mild soap on my body. I closed my eyes at the feel of the grime of the day washing away.
“Need help with the water?” Marcus growled, calling from the outer room. “Not be making a mess in there that this one has to clean?”
I froze in the act of stepping off the platform to reach the next bucket of water. I looked at the floor of the tent and decided that modesty was not worth more of his anger. “Yes, please.” I called, as I returned to scrubbing my hair, trying to keep the suds from flying about.
Suddenly, there was a small amount of water trickling down over me, rinsing the suds from my hair and body. Grateful for the help, I quickly finished the scrubbing, and used my hands to rinse the soap from my body. The water continued to come down in a steady small stream. It felt wonderful.
“Thank you, Marcus. I feel much better.” I reached blindly for the towel that had been laid out on the table. One was placed in my grasping hand.
“Good.”
That was not Marcus.
My hands jerked convulsively to cover myself when I opened my eyes to stinging soap, and up into blue eyes, but I stilled them. I was his property after all. I dropped my gaze and clutched the towel. Keir took it from my hands and wrapped it around me. He took another one and wrapped up my dripping hair.
Without a word, he scooped me up, walked into the bedroom and sat me on the edge of the bed. He stepped back, then sat on one of the tree trunks. I used the towel to work the remaining water out of my hair, keeping my eyes downcast. Fingers through my hair would have to suffice, since I had yet to see a comb. There was a bundle of clothing on the edge of the bed next to me.
“What scent did you have on your hair last night?”
“Vanilla.” I shivered as his eyes roamed over me. He stood, and started to remove his armor and weapons, placing them on the bench by the bed. I gathered up the clothes that had been put on the edge of the bed, and very casually moved back toward the bathing area.
Just as I was about to dart within, he spoke. “I liked it.”
I froze, but he said nothing else, merely continued to work at the straps on his breastplate. I took a step, dropped the flap, then dried and changed with all the speed I could. Once clothed, I felt much better.
The same kind of tunic and trous this time, although black in color. I folded up the drying cloths, and stepped back into the sleeping area.
