Bow and Sparrow

CH 7

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."