Bow and Sparrow

CH 22

The rain lasted all night and into the morning, tapering off into a light drizzle by the time the day had broken, but even the sun's rays weren't powerful enough to dry up the mud pooled in pockets around the camp. Despite that, people were awake and trudging through the mess the storm had left behind.

Sweat beaded on my brow as I walked around the camp with Rylan, him assessing the damage from the storm and I trying to keep my boots from sinking ankle deep in mud. We passed windblown tents, some were slanted oddly while others had collapsed all together, but other than that, it seemed the worst of the storm had missed us.

I pulled my hair from the nape of my neck to let a breeze caress the slick skin. It was only morning and yet the humid air pressed against my body causing my clothes to stick everywhere.

Rylan seemed unbothered by it all, oblivious to the damp curls that brushed his eyebrows or the slick ground that he walked along with ease as he barked out orders or checked on soldiers repitching their tents. As we passed the dining hall, a soldier rushed out the double doors with pants stained to his knees with muddy water.

"Larder's been flooded."

Rylan turned to him, looking over his shoulder at the dirty boot prints that led into the dining hall. I recognized him as the cook, only his greasy apron was gone and he had a wool hat pulled over his ears. I think his name was-

"Show me, Westley."

Westley led Rylan -and me trailing behind them- through the dining hall and into the kitchen where there was a trap door propped open that I've never noticed before. The smell of stale water and rotting meat wrinkled my nose as we climbed the staircase down.

The larder was a small room with walls, ceiling and floor made from slabs of gray slate. Three shelves, a few inches thick of stone, extended out from the walls. Atop the shelves lay salted cuts of meat stacked high and wrapped in muslin. There was a small window on the opposite side with a large crack that ran the length of the pane and a water stain leading down to the floor.

I stopped halfway down the stairs where the last bottom steps were submerged under water. Rylan did the same, crouching on the balls of his feet.

Westley, with no qualms, waded into the putrid water as though it didn't bother him. His trousers were already ruined so maybe it didn't. A drumstick floated by his calf.

"I had Dudley take out anything that was salvageable, but most of the meat was spoiled by the time I came down. We should have enough of everything else until the next shipment to get us by."

Rylan nodded, glancing around the small room. "Keep working here. Grab Dudley if you need him. I'll talk to Haiden about fixing that window."

Rylan clapped Westley on the back before turning back up the stairs. When we were back outside, I took a deep breath in through my nose, savoring the fresh air.

"What did he mean by shipment?"

"We receive a shipment every month from the capital; fruits, vegetables -things like that."

"What about the spoiled meats? Will you have to hunt again?"

"Too much work to be done here." Rylan muttered. A small crease formed between his eyebrows as his eyes darted around lost in thought. "I'll have to take a trip into town."

Town? "Can I join?"

____

An hour's ride from camp, nestled into its own clearing in the forest was the town of Hazend. Though Rylan called it a town, Hazend was more than double the size of Dast and twice as crowded. Rylan wasn't impressed by the sheer size of the town and it made me wonder what he would think of my hometown. I scoffed, pushing the absurd question from my mind.

We rode in on horseback. Rylan was atop Dava, who carried him with ease while I was saddled on a tan steed named Chester, a third the size and swayed with every step. Dava's long legs were faster and Rylan had to rein her in just so I could keep up with them.

"Stick close to me." Rylan said when we finally entered Hazend's limits. I raised my hand to my forehead, my lips already forming the words before he cut me off with a look. "Don't you dare."

The dirt paths transitioned into cobblestone roads and Chester's gait finally evened out allowing my shoulders to relax. Dava seemed to know where to go as she turned towards a boarding stable nearby without much steering from Rylan. Chester, on the other hand, did not.

The horse had a mind of his own and kept trotting into the city, even when I pulled on the reins which he shook off with a huff.

"Chester, come on." I groaned. "Turn around."

I tried patting his mane, his neck, anywhere to get him to pay attention to the rider on his back, but it was useless.

"You're embarrassing both of us."

Chester's ear twitched.

"Woah there, big guy." A young boy ran up to us, gently grabbing the horse by the muzzle and turning Chester towards him. He looked barely into his teenage years with sparse blonde hair sprouting above his lip and a navy vest that almost swallowed him whole. He held his hand out to me, expectantly. "May I?"

I stared at his open palm before making sense of his request. I handed the reins over, and the stableboy led Chester, who finally decided to start minding, to the boarding stable. A furious blush crept up my neck when I realized that the entire street had stopped to watch, including Rylan who stood beside an obedient Dava with a smirk on his face.

I slid off the horse as gracefully as I could for someone that hadn't ridden horseback in over a month. Rylan reached out to steady me but I stepped out of his reach, my finger pointing at him.

"I blame you for that."

"Me?" A look of hurt crossed his face but it was quickly replaced by his usual smirk.

"Were there no other horses I could've ridden?"

Rylan grabbed my hand, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief, and pulled me close to whisper in my ear. When he spoke, his warm breath brushed my ear. "I like it when you blush."

I pulled back to glare at him but already my cheeks were growing warm again. Rylan dropped my hand and turned on his heel, calling out over his shoulder. "Come now. We've got places to be."

I took off after him, dust kicking up at my heels.

The butcher shop was busy and already had a queue of people waiting at the counter when we walked in. It smelled like sweat and raw meat, and I almost regretted tagging along.

I made it a point to not look at Rylan because every time I did, I could almost hear him whispering in my ear and another blush would come on so I looked at anything but him. Such as the mother in the corner trying to calm a fussy baby or the man in front of us in a pair of patchworked overalls that had been tended to by loving hands or the old man behind the counter wearing a pair of blood-stained gloves that reached his elbows who leered at me when we made eye contact. I stared at my mud-encrusted boots instead.

Rylan arranged for a delivery of beef and venison when it was finally our turn, but I was surprised that the butcher was paying any attention to him when his eyes were on me, raking the length of my body.

"Just what I ordered. If you don't mind." Rylan cleared his throat, stepping in front of me. I could almost feel the man's stare through Rylan's rigid shoulders but when he caught the look on Rylan's face, he blanched.

"Yes, sir. Tomorrow."

The butcher scurried to the back of his shop and we didn't wait around long enough to see him return.

"Piece of filth." Rylan cursed under his breath when we stepped outside. He glared over his shoulder and I could see the internal battle inside of him, whether he should go back in or not.

"We've got places to be." I said, softly, grazing his arm with my fingers. He relaxed beneath them, only slightly. I pulled him back toward the boarding stables but he stopped, forcing me to stop with him. The tension eased from his face.

"One more stop."