We emerged from a small cabin. From the outside, it didn't look very sturdy. It would be lucky so long as the wind didn't blow it down. It was situated at the edge of the camp, backed up against a line of trees, and was among the very few made from wood and nails. Hundreds of canvas tents surrounded it,firmly staked into the ground. Some were large while others were hardly big enough for one person to fit in.
As my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, Rylan led me through the worn paths winding between the tents. This must've been the largest war camp in Kanver by the looks of the tents that stretched as far as I could see. I came to the realization that while I was away from the slavers, I was far from safe. The knot in my chest tightened.
"So how long has this camp been here?"
"A few years, not long." Rylan answered, noncommittal. I tried to recall the map in my father's office, but I couldn't remember if it had been on it or not.
"What are you training for?"
Rylan rounded on me, eyes narrowing. "What are you asking?"
"I'm only making conversation." I tried to shrug off his accusing tone, but there was something there that bespoke the truth. Yes, Verdana still trained young, able-bodied men, but I knew that none of the camps were this large. We might not be in the middle of a war but I couldn't shake the feeling that this large camp was a bad omen. I really needed to make it back home. I let out a deep breath and strayed to a safer topic. "So where are we going now?"
"The dining hall. It's an odd time of day but there might be some leftovers in the kitchen."
"And what was that?" I glanced back at the small cabin we came from.
"My private quarters."
"You must be quite important, then." I laid a hand gently on his arm, slowing my pace slightly. It didn't have quite the effect I wanted. He didn't divulge all of his military secrets and his eyes lingered on my hand. I tucked it back to my side and we kept walking.
"The smaller tents are for the soldiers," Rylan continued. "The larger ones house other things, like training equipment, supplies. The dining hall is in the middle of camp. On the outskirts are the latrines. Most of the men use the creek nearby to, uh, wash up though. It's easier that way." Rylan pointed to the left and through the line of trees, I could spot the reflective glint of running water and thankfully, no naked men.
We arrived at the dining hall a short walk later. It was underwhelming. It was stout and rectangular and empty. There were long, wooden tables lined up in rows with mismatched benches. I followed Rylan through a swinging door into the kitchen. It was a large open space with a couple tables littered with dirty pots and a large, roaring fire in the hearth. Sweat beaded on my forehead from the heat in here. There was a short man peeling carrots in the corner farthest from the fire. He wore a dirty apron, smeared with grease, and he was chewing something. It was a carrot, I realized as he cut the tip off the one he was holding and popped it into his mouth. He looked up when we entered.
"Morning, Westley. Anything good?" Rylan called out as we crossed the room, but Westley wasn't looking at Rylan. He was gawking at me, a carrot hanging limply in his hands. I looked away and eventually he went back to his pile of carrots, but he kept glancing over at us. I edged closer to Rylan's side.
Rylan peered into a large pot nearest the fire and grabbed the ladle next to it. He sloped a spoonful of brown mush into a bowl and tore off a slice of bread from a stale loaf on the counter. He shrugged as he handed the bowl to me. "Not sure what's in it. It wasn't too great earlier either..." He lowered his voice, rubbing the back of his neck. "Westley over there isn't the best cook."
I risked a glance, but Westley wasn't looking at us anymore. He was using the thick part of a carrot to scratch his back. My nose crinkled as I looked back to the bowl in my hands. I was relieved to see that there weren't any carrots.
He led me back through the kitchen. We passed one of the tables and I noticed there was a small knife close to the edge of it, barely longer than my hand. I looked around, Rylan had his back to me and the cook wasn't paying any attention. I reached out with a sly hand and snatched it from the counter, soundlessly. I slipped it into the pocket of my trousers, careful to layer my shirt over so it wouldn't poke out. I didn't have a plan for the knife, but I didn't like the idea of being helpless. We sat down at one of the tables and Rylan took a seat directly across from me. "Are you not eating?"
Rylan shook his head, gesturing for me to eat. The table was rough under my palms and I could feel the knife poking into my ribcage. I kept my spine straight to keep from slicing myself open. I sheepishly grabbed the spoon and looked down at the bowl. It didn't taste nearly as bad as it looked. It could've used some spices but at least it was edible. "Mmm. Delicious."
"So where is everyone? It's a pretty big camp, isn't it?" I asked, tearing off a chunk of bread and dipping it into the few remaining spoonfuls of soup left.
"They're either training or hunting. Or doing chores."
"Hunting. Your group was out hunting when you found me, right?" I stared at the now empty bowl and swiped the crumbs of bread from the table.
"Yes. Every full moon, a large group of us go out. It's easier to hunt when you can use the light from the moon. About a day's ride out when we... when we heard you." Rylan said, quietly. His stare was burning holes into my forehead. I could sense that he was still curious. I would be too if I were him. "Do you remember anything about the ride back?"
I thought hard, but the last thing I remembered was being picked up off that tree and him whispering in my ear that it would be okay. I shook my head.
"You were out for most of it. It's probably best that you don't remember." Rylan nodded, thoughtful. "Is your back feeling better?"
"Yes." I was surprised it was the truth. "Little sore. Knox must be a miracle worker because I don't hardly feel anything."
"I believe he used a numbing balm, otherwise your answer might be different. You looked about dead when we found you."
I was suddenly more interested in scraping the last of the dredges of soup, the image of Davin's lifeless body nudging its way into my thoughts. Rylan grabbed the empty bowl and returned it to the kitchen. He offered his arm when I stood. "I'll walk you back."
The sunlight had brightened my mood but the thought of returning to a cramped cabin made me less than enthused. "Do you mind if we stay out a little longer?"
"Not at all. Where would you like to go?"
_____
I heard it before I saw it. The training grounds was just a large open field, albeit it was still very impressive. Dozens of boots pounded the ground as soldiers ran by in formation. No wonder the camp had been deserted, there must've been hundreds of men here.
Soldiers ran laps around the outskirts. There were tall columns of varying sizes at one end and men climbing to the tops of them, weighed down with knapsacks and halberds. It made me dizzy to watch them. Another section had been set up for sword practice and the clash of dull metal on metal rang in my ears as we passed it. They faltered mid-swing when they saw a girl watching them, but they quickly recovered. Perhaps because of the harsh orders Rylan barked out to them.
Targets had been set up at the far end of the field and a row of men stood opposite them, a hundred paces away and holding bows constructed of a light wood with a stock of arrows beside each of them. My breath caught in my throat as I watched an arrow race across the sky, sinking softly into the dirt just before the red-painted target.
I stopped behind one of the men expertly stringing his bow. He was massive, arms and legs as round as tree trunks but his hands were nimble as wound the string around the tips of the bow. When he finished, he raised it high in the air. His arrow landed a few rings outside the bullseye. Rylan had continued walking a little ways before he noticed I wasn't trailing next to him anymore. He turned and eyed me curiously. I glanced at him then turned my attention back to the large man who now stood inches away. I took a step back from his towering frame, holding my hands up between us.
"Would you like to try?" His voice was deep and I could've sworn I could feel the vibrations in the air from his timbre. At this point, the soldiers closest to us had stopped to watch.
I was quick to shake my head even though my fingers were itching to hold a bow again. The large man just laughed me off. He didn't have much of a neck and when he laughed, his chin wobbled. His large hand clapped me on the shoulder and he steered me forward. "Women, such timid creatures." He said with a shake of his head. I barely managed to hold my tongue to keep from showing him just how timid women could be.
A bow landed in my hands and I ran my fingers up the smooth wood. My bow back home -the one the slaver had destroyed- had been nicer than this one. The man stood in front of me and grabbed another bow from the hands of a soldier next to us.
"Hold it here." He raised his bow straight up, turning his shoulders so that they matched the bow. "Arrow here." He laid an arrow over the top of his left hand. Another arrow was thrust into my hand. "Draw the arrow back and..." He sent his arrow soaring through the air, this time it landed on the second ring of the target.
He stepped back, arms crossed over his chest with a grin on his face and nodded encouragingly. I raised the bow and focused on the target across the field. Taking a deep breath in, my callused fingers found their home on the bow string and it felt like time stood still. The watchful eyes faded until I was back home. I could almost see my father's face in the window and I could smell the fresh tilled earth from the garden. I pulled the string back and gasped.
Fresh pain spasmed across my back and the bow fumbled from my hand, the arrow falling to the ground at my feet. I shook my head, swallowing past the lump forming in my throat. "I can't."
I handed the bow back to the large man and cut back through the crowd, blinking back the treacherous tears that had started to form. Of course, the one thing I could have found solace in had been taken from me. I knew it was foolish, my back would heal, but I was overwhelmed with frustration and hopelessness.
I caught a blurry glimpse of Rylan from the corner of my eye. He looked concerned and almost disappointed. I scolded myself, what was I thinking? I couldn't have shot that arrow even if I could, there would've been questions. Questions I couldn't answer.
A pair of boot-clad feet fell in step next to me. "You want to talk about it?"
"No."
"I can teach you if you like. When you're able."
"No, thank you."
I fought against the rising panic as I kept my brisk walk, smoothing my facial expressions. I could feel him staring at me suspiciously, but he didn't speak the whole trip back to his cabin.
The walk back tired me out more than I wanted to admit and when we made it back, I made a dash to the bedroom door. Rylan lingered in the doorway and I was afraid he would say something else, but when I looked up, the fabric-door was still rustling from his departure. I swallowed hard, forcing my emotions down -disappointment, dread, embarrassment- and pushed the door open. I started towards the bed, pulling free the knife that was still tucked safely away in my pocket and looked down at it. The gleaming blade was thin and narrow, curving to a point and it felt light in my hand. It was a knife made for gutting fish and I hoped that nobody would notice it was missing. I buried it beneath the pillow on the bed, making sure that it was hidden from view when I noticed that the wash basin had been filled with fresh, clean water. I stared at it, wondering what it meant. Had Rylan sent someone to fill it? Out of kindness or was he disgusted by how filthy I was?
I dunked my hands into the cool water and splashed my face, icy tendrils rolling down my neck. I scrubbed until my skin turned red and wiped my face with the towel sitting next to the basin, wincing at the grime left behind. Finally when the water had turned brown and the towel was ruined, I wiped my clean hands on my tunic and climbed into the bed. The exhaustion of the passing weeks weighed me down and I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
A/N
I can't believe we're already seven chapters in. Thank you so much for giving my story a chance and don't forget to vote and comment!!
-T