Chapter Nineteen

The company of knights set off from the tavern shortly after I overheard that bit of Wellsworth's conversation. Luckily, he didn't notice that I was listening in on him. However, that was the only bit of luck I was granted today. Wellsworth was pleased with the progress we made yesterday and decided that I would be riding with Husk from this point forward. 

He had approached me as we started hitting the road and just casually threw that announcement on me. Hell, the bastard didn't even bother to look at me as he ordered me to ride with Husk until we made it to our destination. Then he guided his horse to trot to the front of the group without another word. Husk had appeared by my side right as soon as Wellsworth left and grinned at me from ear to ear. His stupid face made me want to punch him, but I decided against it. With how large he was, I'm sure his face would cause more damage to my hand than my hand would to his face. Damned bastards, all of them. 

Husk stood beside the horse and held his hand out to help me mount the saddle. I glared at the hand and refused the help, pulling myself up with my own strength. It wasn't easy, to say the least. My arms shook with the effort. It was no wonder that men were the ones who rode horses more often than women did. 

Husk was noticeably quieter today than he had been since I've met him. He didn't remark on how I rejected his offer to help, and he was silent as he hoisted himself up behind me. I could feel that he wanted to say something though. His silence was causing an annoyingly palpable tension. Why should I care though? I'm used to silence, and I won't give him the satisfaction of asking what's wrong. 

Once we start our journey in earnest, his left hand comes to rest on my hip while his right keeps a tight grasp on the reins. Not this again. "Do you mind letting go?" I won't let him think that my silence means acceptance of his actions. Especially not after the rough night I had. 

His grip tightens. "Sorry, little healer. If I don't hold onto you, then I fear you'll fall. We can't have you getting trampled, now can we?" His voice is gentle, yet firm. He won't be relenting any time soon. 

He's a fool to think I'll give up though. I slam my elbow into the side of his armor, wincing as pain radiates up to my shoulder. "Let go or I will jump off of my own volition." 

He chuckles at my pointless effort to hurt him. "Would you please calm down? I have no ill intentions toward you." His hand slides up my side and stops just at the bottom edge of my bandages. He runs his thumb over the bulky hem. As he continues speaking, his voice takes on a dark undertone. "I simply wish to keep you from adding to your injuries."

His words stun me to silence, any further protests to his unwelcome touch dying on my lips. It sounds as if he actually cares about my well-being. I shouldn't be so shocked by this. He's given me no reason not to trust him. But I still struggle to truly believe him and his sincerity.

"I'm sorry for hurting you yesterday." His voice is low and rough. "If I had known the extent of your injuries, I wouldn't have grabbed you so carelessly."

I absorb his words, the sentiment lingering in my chest as we fall silent once again. No one has ever apologized to me before. This journey seems to be filled with many new experiences. 

***

We continued the whole day without speaking further. Husk's hand never left my side and I stopped fighting him on its presence there. Dusk lingers on the horizon. looking around, I see that where villages had cropped up occasionally, or even lone farms, is now replaced by barren plains. The grass looks worn down, trampled on by numerous feet. We must be getting close to the battlefront.

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, Husk reaches a hand up and points ahead. A glow can be seen in the distance. "Look. We're here." The hand that still rests on my side tightens slightly. 

I look at where he's pointing. I can see tents rising up in the distance, and I can hear faint shouts of a very large group of men. A cacophony of laughter rings through the air. I'm slightly surprised. Aren't we supposed to be at war? How can the group ahead be so merry?

At the front of our company, Wellsworth raised his hand and signaled for us to stop. He turns and looks to where Husk and I sit at the back of the group. 

"Apothecary Amelia of Ferencia Village. Dismount and make your way to the Third Contingent command tent for your orders. May the Fates be with you." With that, he turns away and keeps moving forward, deeper into the encampment. 

He wants me to go where? I look around, confused. I just got here. How the hell am I supposed to find where he wants me to go? Husk must be able to sense my confusion. He leans in and says, "Don't mind the Lieutenant. I will take you there." He gently guides the horse closer to the edge of the forest and deeper into the sea of tents. As we get closer, the laughter and boisterous conversations grow louder. 

We pass by groups of men and women sitting around fires, at tables, and near tents. They all seem a bit rough around the edges. The armor they were is patched together, none having a full matching set. As we ride past, their conversations go quiet and they watch us intently. I squirm under their fierce gazes. These must be the mercenaries I'll be stationed with. 

Husk leans in and whispers in my ear. "Remember to be careful, little healer. If you ever need help, do not hesitate to seek me out. I will always offer you a helping hand."

Before I can respond to him, he stops in front of a large tent that is bustling with activity. Its canvas sides rise up almost as tall as my cabin back home was and two grey flags frame either side of the opening. This must be where Wellsworth wanted me to go. The command tent of the Third Regiment. 

Husk removes his hand from my side and offers his hand to help me dismount. Hesitantly, I accept his offer and brace my weight against his hand. Once my feet are firmly planted on the ground, I quickly let go. Husk looks down at me with an odd combination of emotions that I can't place before turning to return to his company. 

I stand there and watch him go for a moment, then look at my surroundings. The scent of fire and burnt food fills the air along with the sounds of laughter as those we passed continue their conversations. The tent before me is a hub of activity with people coming and going at a steady pace. 

My chest tightens. I don't want to go in there. I don't want to be involved in this stupid war. But there's no point in running away now. I'm already here and I have nowhere to return to. I think back on my thoughts from this morning. At least here, no one will know me. I wonder, if I pretend to be normal, will they believe me? Can I pull it off? I don't see why not. I mean, I faced off with a dragon. A dragon. Of course, I was scared shitless, but who wouldn't be in those circumstances?

Solidifying my resolve, I walk into the tent. No matter what happens, I'll take whatever the Fates throw at me.