The Warrior Who Saved Me

I sat on the armchair, reading the novel in my hands. The smell of roasted meat was strong in the air. The flickering of the flame in the oil lamp nearby, lighting up my little area, the bookshelf stacked high near me. The window is open, letting in the cool breeze. I yawned into my hand and sat up properly at the sound of loud footsteps. I watched Hayden walk past, his footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

“Do you need any help?” I asked, and he ignored me, distracted by his thoughts. I get it, he’s a busy man. I sighed, he was still wearing his armoured leathers, as if he would leave again to go on another patrol around the village. “The roast is nearly finished, would you at least stay to eat?” I asked. He finally looked at me. He’s an evenly muscled and well-defined man.

“I will eat,” he stated. I smiled slightly and put my book down. Walking past him in my black robe. His gaze briefly followed me before he lost himself to his thoughts again.

War seems to be the only thing on his mind. But I know him so much better than that. I took a deep breath, eyeing the fire oven and the fat off the meat dripping into a metal tray. The fat would be used as grease. I filled a plate, carving the meat. I set the plate onto a table, filling a mug with water, and dripping in his special tonic to help his muscle recovery.

I then filled my own plate, filling my mug with water. There was a thump as he sat down, quickly drinking and wiping his mouth. He was deep in thought before his gaze snapped to me again.

“Thank you, Lupa,” he said simply. His brown hair was long and braided down his back. A tattoo over his eye in the shape of a scar. He was covered in dirt and smelled like he had been wading through algae in the water of the wetlands near the village boundary. His leather boots glistened. His eyes were a soft brown, almost like honey, but when he’s mad, they darken considerably. Through the months I’ve been here, I’ve only seen that fury a few times. The first time I met him, injured, lying before him, prepared to be axed. And another time, where a lady he had been trying to swoon, used him to reach one of his closest friends.

That friendship didn’t survive that eruption. Honestly, with how he had been pacing the house in a rage, I wasn’t sure anything would have survived if he hadn’t had any self-control. He even almost hit me, because I knocked into him, and he did apologise for the outburst by getting me a new book.

I still remember the surprise, him raising his fist, fury in his eyes. I just stood there, accepting the situation as I apologised, holding a novel I had been reading. He turned his anger from me to snatch the book, ripping the paper from the leather-bound story. That had hurt more than any punch he could have given me, he knows how much I enjoy reading. A hobby I learnt I loved during my recovery. That was the closest I’d come to crying at that point in his home, and I think he could see that.

I ate my dinner, the windows open, letting in the pleasantly cool autumn night breeze. Brushing away the memory, I smiled to myself and chewed on a juicy carrot.

“Say, there’s a market coming to town tomorrow, would I be able to have some coin to go? Maybe they’ll even have some of that nice cheese from Heswik, that country’s cheeses are always the best,” I commented. He sighed, I frowned a little and dug at my meat. I watched him carefully. “Or I can always make my own coin,” I quietly added. He slammed his fist on the table, and I straightened my position.

“No. You’re not leaving here to get work. I’ll give you coin for the market. Be sure to look for any new weapons or armour they are bringing in from the other lands,” he said. His voice firm, unwavering, I sighed slightly.

“Nothing would go wrong. I can work,” I assured quietly. He frowned, shaking his head.

“No, Lupa. Your work isn’t needed. Give it until I’m drafted further out before you consider something like that. Maybe then I’d allow it, though you’d have more freedom with the coin I send to my household,” he stated. I frowned at that.

“I wouldn’t be going with you when you’re drafted?” I asked in confusion. He stood and crossed his arms. This is not something he’ll discuss. I deepened my frown slightly and touched my chin thoughtfully. “Would you at least go with me to the market? I know you’re thinking about war strategies, but maybe some fresh air will help?” I asked. He dumped his plate into the soapy sink water.

“I’ll consider it.”

I finished my food, and I watched him leave. His bedroom door slammed. I quietly cleaned our few dishes and stored the fat from our meal. I examined the room, and it was a little messy, but his hired maid will be cleaning it in the morning. I don’t have to do a thing, really, he lets me cook because he knows I like it. All I do is read, go for walks and stand nearby as he has his important strategy sessions. I entered my room, a small space, which used to be the guest room. My clothes, which he let me buy for myself, were stacked and folded neatly on the shelves.

I sat on my bed, looking out of my window to examine the moon and the stars. I took a deep breath and got comfortable. I suppose I will never leave this place, even when he gets drafted. He would get pretty upset if I tried.

I woke up to the sound of birds and an annoying bug buzzing around me. I sat up and stretched, seeing the sky light up outside my window with the rising sun. I stood and tidied my bed before grabbing some new clothes. A tan dress, with a brown overdress that goes on top. I grabbed my hair scarf and entered the bathroom. A mirror was covered with water droplets and splatters of creams and medicines. He must have gotten up in the night to rub his cream into his sore calf.

I examined myself in the mirror. My eyes are a light blue colour. My hair was brown and long, wavy from being braided so much as it met my thighs. I stepped into the shower, the water collecting in a bucket as I quickly washed myself. I then dried, getting dressed, and beginning the slow process of fixing my hair. I began by braiding it, before wrapping it up on my head, and then slipping on the hair scarf.

With a satisfied nod, I stood. The bathroom door opened, and I looked up at Hayden. His eyes were firm as they scrutinised me. I nodded a greeting and stood, standing to the side to let him pass me and get further into the room. “Good morning,” I said quietly. He grunted in response, I closed the door as I left him alone. He never is a man of small talk.

I entered the kitchen and began boiling the porridge, slicing the fruit carefully. I sat at the table with my bowl, eating slowly. I could already hear the people, hard at work outside. Loud conversations floated by on the morning breeze. I straightened as Hayden slammed a piece of parchment onto the table. He sat in his chair, pointing at the parchment.

“What does this look like?” He asked. I picked it up, examining the crudely drawn map. He watched me carefully. The enemy was dotted in a distracting V formation at the front. The warriors of Hayden’s class were in a straight defensive line across the valley. I tapped on some trees behind the warriors.

“Probably a sneak attack,” I responded. He pulled the parchment from my hands, scrutinising it. I continued to eat. I left him to debate his thoughts in peace. I played my part. I slipped on my leather boots, grabbing the hand-pulled wagon from outside the quaint home. It is built slightly further from town, with a wild and well-kept garden. The fencing surrounds the property and paddocks. He had one horse, a powerful creature, considerably taller than me. I grabbed the handle of the cart, pulling it to the gate of the property.

Christie, the maid, was pulling her own cart as she pulled it through the gate. It was filled with all of her cleaning supplies and repair kit.

“Good morning, Christie,” I said to her. She parked her cart and looked at me, sticking up her nose slightly.

“Good morning.”

I shrugged. She never does like talking to me. She quite disagrees with an unwed woman living in the same house as an unwed man. Though she shows him much more respect. I just continued moving.

“Oh, good morning, sir,” her voice stammered. Much more timid and soft. The loud and heavy footsteps were unmistakable. He quickly fell into step beside me. Dressed somewhat neatly, in his brown wool shirt, with loose cotton pants. He wore a large vest with a fluffy, animal fur coat. When I first met him, he usually wore wolf furs a lot. But he seems to have diverted to fox furs. I smiled a little to myself, happy for the company. I’ve come to learn that he’s a considerate man, he will stick to his word, and he must have been considering joining me all morning despite worrying over plans. He handed a messenger a letter.

“Take this to the captain’s quarters,” he ordered the messenger, who stood straight.

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!” Exclaimed the messenger, hurrying off. I looked at all of the market stalls, some in tents to protect the merchandise, and some on stands. We stood by the fruit stalls first, some local and some from other countries. I examined the unusual fruits, some were orange in colour.

“Ah, a fine eye, miss. These are lemons and oranges from the eastern land. They can be juiced, eaten as they are as long as you take the skins off, and used in cooking,” the merchant explained. I looked at Hayden, he was looking at some men laughing together.

“Did you want to try them?” I asked him. He slightly turned his head to me, still distracted. The merchant only smiled, cutting into an orange and pulling out juicy-looking portions. He dumped the skin in a special storage container. He handed a slice to me. He seemed nervous to try and interact with the distracted and alert warrior. So I took the second piece, holding it out to Hayden.

“The taste is a little bitter. But I promise, you’ll be praying to your god that they are available all the time,” the merchant said. Hayden took the piece from me and gave it a small taste. I slipped the whole piece into my mouth, smiling to myself as I chewed. He showed me a yellow thing next. “This is a lemon, it’s a little too bitter to eat alone, but squeeze the juice on foods, or scrape the skins onto meat, and you’ll be delighted,” the merchant said. I nodded, glancing back up at Hayden.

“Do you want to get some? Can we? The orange was nice,” I asked him. He was quiet before shoving a coin at me and walking to examine a blacksmith stall. I gave the merchant an awkward smile. “Equal portions of both, please,” I said, placing the coin on the wood. The merchant took the coin, filling a small sack with roughly 5 of each. I thanked him quietly and hurried to follow Hayden. He was examining a sabre, he felt along the sharp edge, before pointing it at my neck.

“Do you need a new one?” I asked, he pulled the sabre back and continued examining it. He put it back in its sheath and shook his head.

“Poor workmanship,” he muttered. Some people were looking at us, slightly intimidated by the way the tip of the blade had been close to my throat. I followed him out, stopping by a butcher stall. Some new meats are being sold. Boar, goat and a bird called turkey. Before I could question Hayden, he slapped two coins onto the wood. “Several cuts of each,” he ordered.

“Ye… Yes, sir,” responded the merchant, startled by Hayden’s commanding attitude. Inside a cheap metal basket, he wrapped each slice of meat into a leaf package. Stacking them with regard to which sort of meat they are. Hayden set the basket in the cart. He must be craving more meat. Maybe tomorrow I’ll make him some sliced pork for breakfast. I followed him quickly to a leatherworking tent. Various leather-crafted items were neatly set up all around. He examined some items, and I picked up a thigh sheath. It was blackened with ink and would fit a dagger nicely.

I turned to ask him if I could get it, but he grabbed my wrist before I could even speak. “No. Put it back,” he said firmly. I sighed and did so, following him out quickly. Suppose he doesn’t want me to handle any secret weapons? He examined some vegetable stalls and passed me 4 coins to spread amongst them. I quietly picked and chose, earning an entire sack of potatoes and half a sack of carrots. I also purchased some onions, beans and cucumbers. The cart is getting heavier. I joined him quietly, he seemed to be talking with the men he was staring at.