Book 6, Chapter 6: Not Another Latrine
My mouth was dry. I rolled onto my back, staring at the sloped cloth ceiling. Bladder, full. This mortal body making demands on me so early in the morning.
Morry. He was coming, I knew this before the dream. I had to escape this unusual confinement, get out of this army, to meet him. Otherwise, I didn’t really know what would happen. He could demand the return of his princess, but if they knew that, they’d surely kill me for killing their wizards. Assuming the wizards told them about me. If they did, the soldiers clearly didn’t know what I looked like. I wondered if the wizards told them I was coming. It would be the rational choice, but they were an arrogant group, and cagey with information.
Though I desperately wanted to see my big man, him coming here would not make me safer. Despite my dream, Morry could not best an army. Not with a small cavalry escort. But if he knew I was here, he might try. He’d gambled against greater odds before and lost.
I could claim he was sent by my Sarah personality’s father. Maybe that would work. Though the cavalry accompanying him would be wearing my symbols, my standard, and the lie would fail before it left my mouth. Ok, yeah, that wouldn’t work. Damn. I didn’t know what to do.
Yet everything was so much worse than this problem. It felt like the All-Father sent me that dream. Was He coming? I’d almost rather face the Others escaping. Though if He and they battled here, I feared for this land. The last symbol changed everything, though.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
Yggdrasil.
Yes, yes, I knew. Oh, I knew. The tree of life. Renewal. Rebirth. And agony, suffering, sacrifice. It made Him, exalted Him. And cost Him dearly.
A price not merely greater than my desire, but beyond my reach. For me, only death, death and worse – I refuse! And I refuse to dwell on dreams and false histories any longer. The waking world casts you out, oh deceptive dreams and portents!
My body beckoned and with some urgency. I was mortal now! Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone?
I flung the covers aside, taking care while standing not to knock over the thin screen of privacy, crept out from my small corner, and headed to the privy of this tent. When I got there, I gagged, the words, “Oh, that bitch” came out of my mouth unbidden, and I immediately turned back. The nightsoil hadn’t been removed.
The Lady Cresida stood in my way, smiling, “As we have no servants, taking that,” she nodded behind me, “to the latrine will be your responsibility.”
I narrowed my eyes, “My responsibility?”
“You are benefiting from our hospitality and protection. I expect you to contribute.”
My eyes would not un-narrow and, to give them company, my arms crossed themselves in solidarity. “Where, exactly, is the latrine?”
***
Carrying the pot, thanking the gods it had a well fitted lid, I headed for the latrines, my own bladder imploring me to hurry up. The smells of meat cooking made me walk all the faster. Eggs were sizzling on a frying pan at the men’s campfire, where I’d drank with them the night before.
The not so old, not so young, soldier called out, “Good morning, Lady Sarah! How was your sleep?”
Heading for the tree line, I didn’t pause, and called over my shoulder, “Just fine Bull, thank you. And you?”
He just laughed. Probably understanding why I was in a hurry.
The younger one ran up alongside me, “Can I help you with that, my lady?”
“I’m just taking it to the latrines.”
“No job for a lady such as yourself!” He reached for the pot of yuck.
I quickly let him take it, not going to fight his youthful chivalry over this. “That would be lovely! Still, I’ll go with you, since I need to know where the latrine is anyway.” Oh, I thought to myself, I really, really need to hurry up and invent flush toilets. Ones you can take camping! On military expeditions! There were some things I truly despised about this world. Yet here I was.
He led me there, too shy to make much conversation, and I was too busy keeping myself contained to notice much. The latrine was a rectangular pit, and no less than three men were making use of the facilities. Setting the lid on the ground – I recoiled at this – he crouched down and gently dumped the contents in.
I backed up a bit, then said, “Thank you for that. Very kind. I, uh, must take it further into the woods for, uhm, cleaning.”
“I shall accompany you to ensure your safety, miss.”
“No, no, really, that won’t be necessary.”
“Uh . . .”
“Ok, you have to. I get it. Sure, come this way then. But, you’re holding this pot.” Passing him the pot back, lid on, I dragged him away from here, heading into the bushes, looking for a creek. I could take care of business, wash the pot and, had I been more prepared, make an escape attempt. But I wasn’t prepared, so that part didn’t happen.
***
Since Cresida had been such an annoyance, when the boy and I got back I sat with the men, ate their meat and eggs, a piece of old bread, and drank weak ale. “No, Cauld,” I said to the boy, wanting to avoid that woman as long as possible, “we don’t need to return the night bucket immediately.” If the food was good enough for soldiers, it was good enough for poor, miserable Lady Sarah and her annoying, talking dreams.
After swallowing some pretty gamey goat, I said, “What are today’s plans, guys?”
Bull answered, “Digging. We’ve got a lot of digging to do today.”
“Five hundred bodies, Lady Sarah. That’s how many of the wizards need to be buried,” added Chip. In the daylight, he looked more scraggly than before, with a sparse grey beard and weathered skin.
Five hundred, seventy-one, my little voice said. Give or take. For some reason, guilt washed over me then. Absently, I said, “All those lives lost.” Nothing compared to what I did to the Laemacian army, when I melted their weapons and armor. No way for me to tell how many thousands, tens of thousands, I killed that day. How many survived? Scars would follow those men as a reminder, for the rest of their lives, what attacking my kingdom cost.
I closed my eyes at the thought, trying to push it away. I wasn’t myself then, but an angry goddess. Unless that was the real me. Then, this remorseful girl was the façade. Shaking my head, I held it together, keeping my eyes dry in front of these soldiers.
“My lady,” said the old man, putting his arm on my shoulder and giving me a start, “it’s a tragedy, and your empathy toward those you haven’t met is kind. You may stay here. No need to see the bodies.”
The food suddenly didn’t have much taste, but I chewed anyways. Swallowed. Added weak ale to the mixture. This would be the perfect time to escape. There were only two thousand troops here. Surely, burying over five hundred bodies would require most of them and take much of the day. “No, I must come with you.” Why oh why did I say that?
“Perhaps we should ask Lady Cresida her thoughts.”
“No, no need.”
“She’s not in,” said Bull. “Other women came to the tent and she left with them, to do laundry. She bid me tell you to join her, but I thought to let you eat first.” He scraped off his plate into the fire, then set it aside on a tree stump.
“Ah. Thank you in that regard.” I, too, set my empty plate down. Probably the boy would take these to the creek later. “And thank you very kindly for the morning meal. I’ll go finish getting myself ready for the day.” Leaving these three, I picked up the latrine bucket and headed into the captain’s tent.
The old man, still sitting, nodded his head, the boy stood, and Bull just watched me walk away. No honorifics like I was used to in my kingdom, nor bowing. It was, I had to admit, nice to get away from all the pomp. On the other hand, it was less nice to not have servants doing everything for me. I’d seriously become spoiled. I’d have to think of this as a lesson in humility and kindness, if I could stop moping and complaining to myself.
On the bed was a dress, much more plain that I was used to. Rough cotton, rusty red and white, lots of pieces. Fit for peasant girls. Cresida was either sending me a message or telling me that we were working today. Probably both.
Figuring I’d be less visible in a servant’s outfit than this regal wizard’s dress, I stripped my clothing off. My skin, hairless and olive color, made me pause for a moment. Supple and young, smooth, without blemish. It was too perfect, lacking any hint of hardship. Yet that made sense, for I’d only created this body some days earlier when I exited the trap, emerging into this world with my full powers.
How quickly I lost them!
Looking at the pieces, I tried to work out how they went on. Let’s see, bodice first? Then slip, waist band and, yeah, that’s where I stop. Too many pieces! I had ladies-in-waiting to do this for me, when the need arose. Annoyed, I tossed the rough cotton dress on and wrapped the bonnet around my hair, tying it back. Forget being a servant, I’d be a pirate, minus the eye patch, vest, scimitar and parrot.
The soldiers were at the fire, waiting for me to return, so I pulled up part of the tent wall on the opposite side, and snuck off into the bushes. They wouldn’t notice for some time, given the complexity of that outfit and how much time they expected it required to don.
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