Book 5, Chapter 9: Washing Up
“And so you came.”
“So I came.” Morry stood up, getting some wood and tossing it on the fire.
“Is hugging done? I’m still liking hugging.”
“Princess, we can hug as long as you want.” He went over to his horse, rummaged through saddlebags. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you are rank.”
“Rank?”
“Yes. Here,” the big man returned and passed me a bar of soap and a large facecloth. “Perhaps you can wash up? I’ll fetch water from the creek. I took a package from the healer’s, and it has one of those rough-hewn dresses you like.”
Staring at him, stunned, “You were dead and now alive and you’ve just found me and the first thing you want is for me to ‘wash up’?”
“It’s not really the first thing. We’ve been talking for hours now. How many days have you been wearing that gambeson?”
“I had nothing else to wear! How long have you been wearing that dirty armor! And your gambeson?”
“Princess,” he looked around the clearing, “it’s the foxes. That’s the problem.”
“Foxes?”
“Yes. They frequently mark their territory.” His eyes widened to drive the point home, “They have the worst smelling piss and the most awful glands.”
I stood up and nudged a stone, “Well they were . . . they kept me . . . company, you know. Tried to cheer me up.”
“Ah.”
“They like cuddling. And they’ve been keeping me safe!”
“I’m sure. Let’s go get some water, then.”
I felt a blush coming. “No need, there’s a nearby creek. I’ll wash there myself.”
“I should come with you, stand guard.”
Hands on my hips, “Oh? Stand guard?”
“With my back to you, yes. There are monsters in these woods, my lady.”
“Is it ‘my lady’ now? Perhaps you should call me ‘my smelly lady!’ Or, ‘stinkfest!’ You jerk!”
“I’m ever grateful to the foxes and birds for keeping you safe.”
“And?”
“I believe the creek is this way.”
***
It was dark. Moonlight glinted off the ripples in the water as it rushed by, beige and maroon pebbles lay underneath. Night is a strange time to gaze into water. It’s both reflective and revealing, making me stop and stare for perhaps too many moments.
My helmet, that Morry had brought, thoughtfully, broke the calm translucent mirror, then I heated up the water inside to boiling to kill everything, screamed, “owe!” and dropped the helmet into the water.
“Princess,” Morry said, turning, “is everything ok?”
“Fine! I just stupidly burned myself.”
“Burned yourself?”
“I was reminded that steel is an efficient heat conductor, ok?”
“Efficient heat conductor . . . What?”
“Nothing. Just keep turned around there. I, uh, boiled the water in my helmet. To kill the bacteria, I mean, whatever’s inside it. To sterilize it! And it burned my hands. OK?”
“I didn’t realize bathing with magic was so dangerous.”
“Grrr!” This time, after filling the helmet up, I set it down in the creek, squishing out a helmet shaped imprint in the pebbles by rotating the thing back and forth, then boiled the damn water inside, started waiting for it to cool down, shivering a bit since I was now without clothing, then felt very light, as Brin would put it to mean ‘dense’ where I came from, because I could cool the boiled water and hot helmet by slowing their molecules.
This I did, to a hot tub temperature. At which time, I had a sponge bath only without a sponge, instead using Morry’s cloth. I had to admit, the soap smelled wonderful! Maybe fox urine isn’t a good eau de toilette after all. Odd that I hadn’t noticed.
When I was done, shivering in the cool air and full of goosebumps, I let a controlled trickle of energy warm me up and send the water on my skin away as steam. The forest lit up, nearby grass bunched up and withered, a piece of wood not too far away poofed into flame.
“Princess!” Morry turned around. “Oh! That is something . . .”
The energy rippled around me, fiery orange streams mixing with deep red ribbons, circling my arms, my waist and legs, bright yellow flares pulsating off like the surface of the sun, and light purple jets streaming from my eyes. Nearby surface water steamed, rising, an obscuring mist rose, covering my legs and hips. The tree line glowed in my presence and the wind stood still.
“What’s that?”
“Beautiful. You are . . . a wonder to behold.”
Darkness. Our eyes took a while to adjust to the moonlight.
“Morry, hand me, no, not the towel. The dress, please.”
He passed me fresh undergarments first.
***
“I hope they can’t track this iron at a distance.”
“That I found it, or the foxes led me to it, suggests they cannot. They’d have been waiting otherwise.” The big man placed the necklace on me, putting his arms around, touching my skin. Then, gently put each earring into place, left, right. He dropped to my ankles, clicking the anklets shut.
He took both my hands in one of his, slid the bracelet onto my forearm, fastening each one. Last, he took my hands, held my fingers, slipped a ring on each. The ring, it seemed, took time, a mighty struggle, to get it on, and he squeezed my hand, and slid the ring, and I grasped his, and stared into his eyes.
“Thank you, Morry.”
“A pleasure.” He stepped back. “Princess, is something wrong?
“Not at all. I . . . I just miss Brin. She’s the one who dresses me.”
“Ah. Our path must cross by their castle, perhaps we can see them.”
“Would that be safe?”
“I don’t know.”
“I wonder what the mages are up to.”
“I think we’ll sleep by the fire tonight, Princess. It’s a warm enough night and all your watchers will guard our rest.” He took the saddle off his horse, setting the bedroll aside for now.
I did the same with Cloud. Patting her neck, giving her a bit of a scratch, I said, “I kind of like this dress. It suits me better.”
“Clothing for the staff. They are made of hemp, and so not court fineries.”
“I’m quite serious, you know. Not making a joke. I like its muted colors – red and grey. Or blue. I can’t really tell right now. But it suits me. Very comfortable.”
“I’m sure Reese would be happy to hear that. And Brin apoplectic.”
My saddle and saddle bags on the ground, I picked up my sleeping roll, and said, “So you did notice.”
“I don’t disagree with her, Princess. You cast a fine shadow in court fineries.”
“Whatever that means. Shadows! They all look the same.”
“Now that is where you’re wrong. Some shadows are pleasing. Those befitting a fine wine glass. Or a pretty girl. And others are awful and unappealing.”
“It’s nighttime. There are only shadows now.”
Back by the fire, he placed his roll close enough to it for warmth, far enough way to stay cool. “I’ll sleep here, Princess. Perhaps place your head against mine, upwind from the smoke?”
I did so, lay down and was cool but comfortable. My big man had returned and I felt safe again. Whole.
“Good night, fair lady.”
“’Night, Morry.”
I stared into the flames, enjoying the orange lines dance upon the coals, moving up and down with the slightest breeze, perhaps causing little breezes of their own. The flames never standing still and always sending themselves up into the sky, reaching for the heavens.
Slipping out of my sleeping roll, I picked it up, moved it in front of the big man and he, still awake too, slid back a bit so I wouldn’t be too hot, and I laid it down where once his was, and lay facing the fire. His big, muscular arm wrapped protectively over me and I took hold of his warm and strong hand in mine.
I pressed in to feel him against me and whispered, “Morry.”
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