Warprize

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.
    Keir was on a bench, removing his boots. Dishes were rattling off somewhere. Marcus must be making our meal.
    Keir glanced up.
    I risked a smile. “I think that Marcus is calming down.”
    “Really?” His expression did not change, but there was a hint of laughter in his voice. “Marcus?” he called out. “The warprize did not eat at noon.”
    The rattling dishes stilled and I heard an enraged cry. I hunched down as Marcus stomped into the room. “What? You think you live on air and light?” He glared at me, with both hands on his hips. “City dwellers.” He said it with disgust, and switched his glare to the larger man.
    “I had kavage with Joden and Simus.” I voiced a small protest.
    Marcus focused on me again. It was amazing how much anger one eye could hold. “You were told to take nothing except from the hand of the Warlord.”
    I cringed and looked over at Keir, who gazed at us both with a straight face. This time I was sure I saw a glimmer of laughter in those eyes.
    “Marcus is right.” Keir’s eyes grew serious. “While Simus and Joden have my trust, you are not to take anything from anyone else.” He rose from the bed and went to take his turn in the privy room. Marcus let loose a stream of words under his breath, and stomped out, using words and phrases that I did not understand. I sat there quietly as he stomped back in with two buckets of water for Keir. He was still muttering under his breath when he emerged, radiating anger with every step. I opened my mouth to say that I couldn’t have eaten if I
    couldn’t take food from