Something bothered Erik, and then he realized that the riders and horses were far too large for the distance and the speed they were moving. He blinked as he tried to make sense of the image, then he realized what he was seeing. ‘Lizard men!’ he said aloud without thinking.
The Master of the Camp said, ‘Our Lady’s allies are called the Saaur. Do not call them “lizards” or “snakes,” lest you incur her wrath.’ He motioned for Calis to lead his company away as another company approached from behind.
Squinting against the afternoon sun, Erik tried to make sense of the distant riders.
‘Those horses must be twenty hands,’ said Sho Pi.
‘Closer to twenty-two or -four,’ said Erik. ‘They’re bigger than draft animals, but they move like cavalry mounts.’ As the riders moved away, he admired the fluid motion of the horses. The Saaur rode with an easy rocking seat, though their bodies looked oddly top-heavy, as their armor was cut in an almost triangular configuration due to flaring shoulder guards and a cinched waist. ‘I’d like to get a closer look at one of those horses,’ said Erik.
‘No you wouldn’t,’ snapped de Loungville. ‘At least, not one with a rider on his back.’
Erik shook his head in wonder as the riders were lost in the distant afternoon haze.
They located the campsite, and Calis made a guarded introduction to his neighboring captains. It was clear that no one was feeling talkative, as none of the companies knew if those next to them were actively supporting the cause of the Emerald Queen or were those coerced into serving.
Erik was no military expert, but he got the feeling that in this strange country, with its custom of hiring men to fight as opposed to supporting standing armies, having men without loyalty under arms was not a very smart thing to do. Still, no general uprising seemed to be taking place, so Erik assumed those in command of this host knew something he didn’t, and left it at that.
Calis ordered the men to bed down without erecting tents. There was no order given to dig a perimeter defense or erect a breastwork. It was clear without being said that he wanted the men to be up off the ground and on horseback in the shortest possible time if the need arose.
After the second day, the surrounding camps became small communities, to be visited if the men weren’t on duty. Bartering, gambling, swapping stories, or just alleviating the boredom of a camp between battles, the men wandered as far as they could without causing trouble. The level of trust was rising, albeit slowly, as those forced to serve grew more accepting of fate. They might resent having no choice as to who their new master was, but for most captains, one side was as good as the other, and booty was booty.
Some companies had an open attitude, welcoming a new face who might bring some news, gold to gamble, or just a break from the routine. But others were still wary, and twice Roo and Erik had been told to keep moving when they approached one of those camps.
The second night, Foster walked through the camp, stopping at every group of men to speak with them. He came upon Erik, Roo, Sho Pi, and Luis, who were sitting around a fire, watching as Biggo and Natombi took their turn cooking for the squad. ‘Here!’ he said, motioning for the men to stand.
When they did, he opened a purse and counted out two golden coins and five silver for each man. In a low voice he said, ‘Mercenaries get paid, and if you can’t buy something from a vendor or whore now and again, you’ll get people asking questions about us. And the first man who gets drunk and says the wrong thing into the wrong ear, I’ll personally have his liver on a stick!’
Erik hefted the coins, feeling them cold in his hand. He hadn’t held coins since leaving Darkmoor, he realized, and it made him feel good to be able to buy something. He put them into a pouch sewn into a seam in his tunic, where they would be safe.
Whores appeared later that night, plying their trade. Without tents, there was little privacy, but that seemed to bother few of the men. Many simply pulled the woman of their choice under a blanket and ignored whoever might be sitting a few feet away.
A pair of them came by where Erik and Roo sat, and one said, ‘Looking for some company, boys?’
Roo grinned and suddenly Erik found himself flushing with embarrassment. The last time whores had visited their camp, at the other site up on the tributary of the Vedra, he had been looking after the horses and they had moved on by the time he returned. He was certain he was the only man in camp who had never lain with a woman. Erik thought, I might never get the chance again. He looked at his friend, whose smile spread ear to ear, then found himself grinning back. ‘Why not?’ he asked.
One of the women said, ‘We get paid first?’
Roo laughed. ‘And pigs fly.’ He waved at the camp. ‘We’re not going anywhere, but we can’t say the same for you, now, can we?’
The whore who had spoken gave him a sour look, but she nodded. ‘You’re not as young as you look, I wager.’
Roo stood up. ‘I’m older than I’ve ever been before in my life.’
The whore looked confused by the statement, but followed Roo as he motioned for her to follow.
Erik stood, finding himself alone with the other woman. She could have been young, but it was difficult to tell. A hard expression and the dim campfire light made it impossible to tell if she was closer to fifteen years or forty. Some grey in her dark hair convinced him she was older than he, but he didn’t know if that made him feel more comfortable or less.
‘Here?’ she asked.
‘What?’
‘Do you want to do it here, or somewhere else?’
Suddenly feeling profoundly embarrassed, Erik said, ‘Let’s go down by the river.’
He stuck out his hand awkwardly and she took it, her grip firm and her hand dry. He suddenly felt regret for the gesture, as his palm was damp and his grip uncertain.
She laughed softly and he said, ‘What?’
‘First time, is it?’
He said, ‘Why … of course not, it’s just … been a long time, with travel and …’
‘Of course,’ she said. Erik couldn’t tell if there was warmth in her amusement or contempt. He led her down to the bank of the river, and nearly stepped on a couple who were in a frantic embrace. He moved to where it was relatively dark, and stood there uncertain.
The woman quickly was out of her clothing, and Erik felt his own body respond to the sight of her. Her body was nothing extraordinary, a little plump around the hips and thighs, and her breasts sagged, but he suddenly thought of what he was about to do and he couldn’t get out of his clothing fast enough. He had his tunic off and was working on his boots when she said, ‘You’re a big lad, aren’t you?’
Erik looked down at his own body as if noticing it for the first time. The passage of time and the rigors of his life since being taken prisoner had hardened him to a fitness beyond what he had known at Ravensburg. Always strong, he had lost a softer outer layer of fat and now his powerful smith’s chest and shoulders were rippling muscle, as if he had been carved by a sculptor of the heroic. He said, ‘I’ve always been big for my age.’
He sat and pulled off his boots, and she came over, and took the top of his pants in a firm grip. Her voice was husky as she said, ‘Let’s see how big.’ She pulled off his pants, and looking at his obvious readiness, she laughed and said, ‘Big enough!’
Considering her profession, she was tender. She took her time and didn’t laugh at Erik’s awkward fumbling. She calmed him when he needed it, and while their coupling was frantic and quick, there was some sense of caring in it. After it was over, she quickly dressed,