Water Lilies

Resol & Dormin

Somewhere not too far off, a great horn sounded and the echo called the recruits into an orderly chaos preparing for departure. High upon Hengist I could see what could be described as an impressive gathering of loyals ready to serve. The only discrepancy there is just how unready most of these young men were. A noble knight, Sir Punor, led our ranks and gave a wistful glance over our crowd. A subtle twitching of his mouth betrayed his pride for disappointment and my eyes rolled like loosed pearls across the polished floor. Tyr marched on foot beside Hengist and I whispered down to him on our clumsy departure.

"Tyr, do you know our first stop?" I began, my father's fondness for storytelling breaking free of my serious facade. The shaggy boy shook his head and glanced up.

"We are going where the water lilies speak and sing," I whispered dreamily. The effect had worked and Tyr's eyes widened like a deep blue hole.

"No! Yeah? What do you mean?" He feigned skepticism.

"Well, your father never told you?! Hidden in a wooded glade far from humans exists a wonderful loch. Filled by winter snow melt runoff from the neighboring moors, this loch possesses the magical properties of the land and holds many secrets in his dark womb."

Tyr's interest was locked and his curiosity peaked.

"So, what kind of magic? Is there a creature in this loch?" I smirked and Tyr grinned.

"Creatures, boy. Several. Frightening devils from the watery tomb that whisper sweet things and sing pretty songs for their would-be prey to wander towards. See, they can never leave the loch due to a divine curse, but men must not approach them for God made them stronger than humanity. We are weak to their guiles; we seek after their company."

"No!" Tyr gasped.

"Yes, indeed!" I insisted. Tyr's aghast expression inspired the story's conclusion.

"What do they do once they hav' us?" Tyr whispered. I leaned in close so that even Hengist cast backward glances questioning my strange riding.

"They drag their victims to the bottom of the loch, strip their flesh, eat their bodies, and bathe in the skin!"

"Bathe in it!"

"To keep themselves pretty, of course. Honestly, Tyr, your father has failed you and left you uninformed!"

"Father died on a ship," he said in his defense. "Long ago. And mother services men, now. Awful men. I saw them hurt her, but she still went away wit' them. She didn't come back after a while. Tha''s why I'm here, ye know." He said that with some sadness and some pride and marched confidently beside me.

"Will you become a knight, too, one day?" I asked. He hesitated and nodded once, curtly.

"Yeah. I think I will."

"A shame you will not have a mother or father to make proud," I said. His confidence faltered.

"But I have an idea," I began. He looked soberly interested. "What if I serve as your mum and da in their stead? You can make me proud, yes? Until you find something better."

"Ye want me to call ye Da? Or Mum?"

"You do not have to," I chuckled. "But if you miss that sure. Only Da...yeah?" He grinned when I borrowed his word and nodded.

"I'll make you proud, Da!"

In a matter of days our assembly set up base camp. Settled amongst moors and woods hiding us from intruders, tents and cooking fires were erected to our captain's satisfaction. Training was ongoing and occurred in small teams. We learned formations, practiced combat on foot and horseback for those amongst the cavalry, and adopted battle etiquette. It was formal, but also disorderly. Frightening and empowering.

Tyr was often running errands for the knights in charge of us, but he often returned to me for more stories of the loch creatures, sea beasts far away from here, and wolves that became men. During the day, when stories were put on hold, he watched our training if possible and - I listened to him in secret - beat at nearby trees with sticks in the cover of darkness to practice form. I would call him into the small tent after a while so he could sleep and none of the other soldiers would bother his childish efforts. He would listen, and settle down near me on my pallet.

It was strange to be called "Da," but he had adapted to the name quickly and liked it. Although I felt like an older sister, and appeared to most as a brotherly figure, I could give him this one thing - this paternal pride and care - and with God's grace I would do it. A small kindness can go far, which I had learned young, and he should learn that, as well. I might as well be an example.

In the early and dim hours of our twelfth day in the moor I left my tent for a walk. In full armor I was prepared and disguised for any trouble, so I left Tyr behind to sleep off another late night training exercise.

It was still nearly dark outside and chilly damp from morning dew. Hengist snorted softly as "good morning" and I nodded to him in response. Hundreds of canvas tents swept across the moor and made no noise save for dripping water and distant snoring scattered amongst the simple dwellings. I treaded softly across soft grass to escape the camp and wandered without much objective into the woods.

The sounds of snapping twigs and my own breath swamped my ears. The animals were not yet awake, or simply wary and hidden away. I took my steps gently, testing the ground and placing my hands on each tree trunk as I passed, until I found a small clearing. Dawn had finally risen and soft blue sunshine drifted through the woods casting many shadows. A dozen strides ahead was a river framed by thick blankets of grass not yet tended by deer and freckled with bouquets of wildflowers. The heavy dew gave the scene a look of a woman fresh from bathing, and I was long overdue for bath.

No one of importance would be awake just yet, and those few masculine sounds I heard in passing were far off. Piece by piece I peeled away my armor like a second life that needed to be put on hold for just a breath of time. Soft grass underfoot felt so inviting; I took the invitation gracefully and lied naked amongst the dewy flowers. Spread in the sunlight, a soft breeze glided over every inch of my skin. Lazy fingers twisted through the plaits of my braid, pulling them apart with easy relief. Mother once said nature was a woman's resting place and man's battlefield.

I guess I am getting a little taste of both worlds, now?

~ ~ ~

"Oh, would you look at that! A lass amongst our ranks," he said. A more seasoned soldier, nearing thirty, and also a hunter, Dormin's eyes were fastened to the woman letting all lay exposed by the river. A neat pile of armor relaxed close at hand and what he thought of as a clever mind pieced the puzzle together.

"Oi, Resol! She's one of us," Dormin whispered fiercely. "Look. She has that pricey armor. Any notion of whose it is?"

Resol was slow and much more inclined towards self-preservation and personal interest. Presently, the personal interest was getting his cock inside the naked woman. A heavy smack across his head snapped him back to the present.

"Who is she, Resol? Recognize the face? A female soldier is a serious offense, aye? Blackmail can go quite a long way, especially if you're already naked!"

"You wanna fuck her and hold her identity over her head like a threat?"

"Not like a threat; a real threat. And yes. Just look at that arse. Maybe women should be soldiers! But they're so weak. How could she come this far?" Dormin thought aloud. Unfortunately for the lewd men, a stoic young porter had wandered out of camp in search of his favorite soldier and had heard their crass going ons.

Resol began to ask which of them would have the first go at her when a twig snapped, they both whirled, and a storm of rocks began to pelt their faces.

"Lousy, stinking, wretched soldiers! Leave her alone! A lady's a lady birthright or no, you fiends! Take that!" Tyr's assault cost them their lacking looks, broke Dormin's nose, and split Resol's lips.

"Brat! Resol, grab him. She's heard us!" Dormin panicked, realizing his prize was lost. Rouen recognized their presence with Tyr's entrance and made haste to don her shirt, breeches, and boots.