Nomad {Editing}

::Chapter 24:: On the Road Again

An answer was on his pursed lips, when he heard footsteps outside the tent and stiffened. Flaring his nostrils in an attempt to identify the potential stranger, he strained his ears. It was only then that he realised it wasn't a single pair of footsteps, but many.

It appeared that the camp had been reanimated.

That or we're being surrounded, but Charlie tried not to concentrate too hard on that idea.

Briar moved without a word from where she had remained in his arms. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out if the people moving outside their shelter was friend or foe. She carefully peeked her head from the tent and waited for a second before looking back.

"We're good," was all she said as she slipped from the tent. Leaving Charlie in her wake.

Sighing that their moment had been cut short rather abruptly, he lifted himself to his feet and followed in her shadow. Cautiously at first, unsure of what he would find when he returned to the outside world.

Once outside, it became apparent that no one but he and Briar knew what had happened. They all exchanged glances of confusion and panic. Growls echoed across the clearing, and a number had moved towards the King's tent to protect him.

Following Briar towards a group of men and women, she quickly explained to them what had happened in a loud tone of voice. Trying to make it so that everyone could hear her, and wouldn't panic as to what had happened.

The boat had long sailed on that front, but it had been worth a try.

Moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with Briar, Charlie cast a nervous glance across the clearing. Trying to spot any further bodies, after the show of power demonstrated by Anthony he was scared that the damage would extend outside of the tent.

As far as he could tell, it hadn't.

He still couldn't shake the feeling that Anthony could have them all dead if he wanted it. Which raised the question, why hadn't he?

It was only one of a million questions he had that seemed he was never going to get an answer on. One that's low down on the list of priorities, Charlie let out a low growl of his own. Not acknowledging the looks of panic this gained him.

Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable now not just because of his wounds. Though the efforts to heal them that Briar had made were doing at least some form of good now.

Pressing his shoulder against Briar's, not doing anything further but needing the feeling of her skin against his, even for a split second. Charlie did nothing for a while, uncertain of what there was for him to do.

By now it should have been a feeling he was used to, helplessness may have well of been his middle name. But it made him feel uncomfortable, and not knowing what was around the corner made it all the more difficult to hold on.

At least this time he was able to bite back the growl that rose to the back of his throat.

Eerie silence had fallen across the camp, each man desperate to spot or hear movement from the tent of the monarch. No one seemed to want to move until the King at last reappeared to them, proving himself alive.

Until then, it was apparent they were all going to remain on edge.

Charlie was not excluded from that generalisation.

Jumping at almost every sound, for once Charlie wasn't the only one nearly driven mad by the anticipation and the need to know what was happening. A restless quiet made the atmosphere feel dark, it could have been cut with a knife by the time sound at last came from the tent.