Chapter 19: Making Camp

Saffron felt the drums before she heard them; the ground beneath them thudding in time to the beat. It was unsettling how quickly it took them to reach the front; only a handful of days’ travel. The rain hadn’t ceased. The harvest had ended furiously, sweeping the countryside with torrents of icy rain. This did not bode well for winter. It would be a wet, harsh season. Saffron needed to gather herbs as soon as they got there. The collection she had at the apothecary, which was now at the castle, was thinner than she would like this close to winter’s doorstep.
Tents rose from the mists as the carriage made its way into the valley, the horses’ hooves sinking and squelching into the deep muddy ruts. Saffron studied the sodden landscape. Tents stretched as far as the eye could see and beyond them, the cliffs of Udril. She turned her eyes to Elric.
“Is it wise to be this close to their border?” she asked, her stomach trembling with nerves. He scoffed.
“Trust me, this is a fine position. We have the advantage of the trees. They are not accustomed to fighting in the forests, which is why we have chosen this valley. It is surrounded on all sides by trees. Those cliffs there,” he pointed to the black mountains shearing the sky, “have no good footholds due to the slick rock that they are made of.” He said reassuringly and patted her knee.
“I’ve done this once or twice before,” he said with a smirk. Her face colored.
“Yes, I know. I apologize if it sounded as if I was discounting your experience. It was just my nerves speaking. Has the fighting begun?” she questioned, trying to make sense of the sea of tents before them. He shook his head.
“Not as of yet. However, I feel that it will be soon. It will make the men more comfortable now that I am here. It shows that I stand with them and not behind them.” His eyes were soft as he gazed out at the soldiers going about their duties, the rain hammering against their shoulders and heads. Saffron felt her heart soften towards this strange Prince. Her hand reached for his. She saw his mouth curve into a smile and wrapped his hand around hers.
Though they spoke no more of what transpired at Mira’s palace, a treaty had been forged the night of the assassination attempt. Saffron had forgiven him and Elric swallowed his pride. Their relationship, while still a bit tenuous, was regaining its carefree atmosphere.
The carriage lurched to a stop in front of a large tent, larger than those around it. “Here we are! Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with being back in his element. She felt her own answering smile; his energy was contagious.
“As ready as I will ever be, I suppose,” she replied and took his hand. They raced through the deluge to the front of the tent. Elric held the flap open and she ducked underneath his arm, finding relief from the rain instantly. The tent was warmer than she had imagined. A small iron stove sat in the corning, a fire burning cheerily within its depth. A small wooden bed, barely big enough for two, sat in the other corner. It was draped with heavy furs.
The rest of the room was dominated by a large table, which was currently spread with maps and other bits of parchment. Currently, an older man sat at it, leafing through the papers, and occasionally scribbling something with a quill. Saffron found the scratching of the quill soothing and her hands ached for her own journal buried somewhere deep in her luggage.
“Oh, hello miss,” the man said when he saw Saffron and stood. She curtseyed. “No need, no need!” he replied with a laugh. Elric came in shortly after, water running down his long hair and seeping into his collar. He didn’t seem bothered by it but, Saffron noted, seemed invigorated by the rain and the muck. She shook her head slightly at the sight and turned back to the gray-haired man.
She realized he was tall, incredibly so. He was nearly a hand taller than Elric, his shoulders broad and his stomach still flat despite his age. He wore his grey hair long, like Elric, the top half braided and the rest loose. White, grizzled hair covered his cheeks and chin. His eyes were an icy blue and he was rather dashing. Saffron felt herself blushing slightly.
“Wulfstan, this is Saffron Greenreaver, my fiancée,” Elric said, introducing them. Wulfstan’s eyes widened and smiled at her. He bowed deeply.
“It is my pleasure to meet you,” he said, still smiling. His eyes glanced towards Elric who was looking at Saffron with something unnamed in his eyes. Interesting, Wulfstan thought. He had never before seen the Prince look at someone with such emotion in his eyes. This was a captivating woman, indeed.
“Is there any news?” Elric asked, introductions aside. Wulfstan snapped into action, spreading a rolled map smooth onto the table before them.
“There has been some movement here,” Wulfstan said, pointing to a point and scribbled a quick note next to it. Elric frowned, staring down at it.
“They are getting bolder, it seems,” he murmured and Wulfstan nodded, his face grim.
“They are, indeed. I believe it is only a matter of time now,” he replied. Elric bobbed his head and continued staring at the map. Wulfstan briefed him on the other happenings that were occurring. Saffron’s attention wavered and she wandered over towards the bed, staring down wistfully at it. She was exhausted. The stove kept the tent delightfully warm and was not helping in keeping her eyes open.
She yawned widely and pulled off her cloak, tossing it onto a nearby chair. Wulfstan noticed and rolled up the map with a quick snap. “You have had quite a journey. I’ll let you rest, and we can meet again in the morning.” He said and bid Saffron goodnight.
Elric stood looking at another map for a moment before shuffling the papers into a neat stack. Saffron giggled. He looked up; his eyebrows raised. “May I inquire what you find so humorous?” he asked. She giggled harder. “Are you ill? Should I stuff some more leaves in your mouth?” he quipped, mock anger on his face which only sent her into another fit. He stood staring at her, his hands crossed in front of him.
“Are you done yet?” he asked, fighting his own smile as he watched tears leak from the corners of her eyes.
“It’s just…you tucked them so neatly.” She stammered, still laughing.
“I do not see the humor in that,” he said, bemused as she continued to chortle. She wiped her eyes, a stray giggle escaping.
“I do believe some rest will do you good before you land yourself in a dungeon for those touched in the head,” he said.
“We wouldn’t want that would we?” she quipped. “Do you happen to have my clothing?” she asked, looking around the tent for her case. She saw them stacked in the corner. After a few moments of digging, she found a warm nightgown. She stood and realized there was nowhere to change.
“Do you mind turning around?” she said as he watched her, leaning against the bed.
“I do actually,” he said with a wicked grin. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he sighed and turned. She quickly pulled off her damp dress and tugged on the warm nightdress. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still staring resolutely at the wall of the tent.
“All done,” she said, and he turned. Her flesh burned at the fire in his eyes as he looked over her. The firelight danced behind her, giving shadow to her curves beneath the dress. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“I suppose you would prefer it if I did not sleep in my boots.” He said and tugged off his mud-laden boots.
“We will both sleep there?” she asked, looking at the small bed. He nodded.
“There were no spare cots I am afraid. Is that alright?” he asked. She nodded, her cheeks a bright pink. She wondered how they could both fit on the small frame. A few ideas flashed through her thoughts and she chased them away. She refused to meet his eyes, lest he discerned the subject of them.
“Very well. I should like the spot nearest the wall,” she said and climbed onto the bed. It was surprisingly sturdy. Elric blew out the candles, leaving only the fire burning. She watched over the edge of the blankets as he pulled off his shirt. The muscles in his back rippled as the firelight danced across his skin. She gulped and turned her eyes away, her body shaking.
The bed sagged underneath his weight as he climbed in next to her, the length of his body pressed against hers. Lightening stuck her body everywhere that he touched her. She was afraid to take too deep a breath for drawing even nearer to him. He slid his arm beneath her pillow and rolled her towards him.
She froze, her hand against his chest. “I thought this would be more comfortable.” He said quietly. She nodded and settled her against his chest, her fingers splayed across his heart.
Both knew it would be a night of restless sleep.