They set camp in a small clearing right beside the river. The tree line between them and the road could already be called a forest and tall, thick bushes covered most of the area around the clearing. Mirlín was tending to the horses while Reynaer worked to light a fire. Desiderius had disappeared behind the bushes while Fyen pranced barefoot along the riverbank, trying to muster enough courage to actually dip her feet in the water.
"You guys might wanna take a bath before we eat," she said.
Reynaer had just managed to get a small fire going. He stood up and smelled the air. "Not a bad idea, actually. Those bushes over there look like a decent cover so you don't have to suffer the sight of us naked." He rummaged around in his saddlebag for a bar of soap and a towel and walked away.
Soon Desiderius appeared from the bushes at the other side of the camp. "Bath time, huh?"
Fyen pointed with her thumb. "He went that way."
Desiderius nodded, grabbed his bag, and walked after Reynaer.
After a moment the man's voice sounded from behind the bushes. "Find your own damn bush!"
Desiderius reappeared clutching his bag to his chest and walked hurriedly into another shrubbery nearby.
Fyen skipped around the fire and then walked over to Mirlín. "What are you doing, Mirl?"
"Just cleaning Midwin's bit and bridle," the woman replied.
"Oh." The girl walked around the horse.
"They say you have ridden your horse well when the bit's covered with drool," Mirlín chuckled, wiping yellow slime off Midwin's bit.
Suddenly they heard a surprised yell and a strange buzzing noise. Turning around, the girls saw Desiderius, stark naked, run through a bush with a shocked expression on his face.
"Bees! Beehive!" he cried, clutching his bag and clothes, a band of buzzing bees on his trail. With incredible agility the boy ran behind another bush and then there was a loud splash of water. Mirlín and Fyen looked at each other, shrugged, and turned back to the horses.
"You should check Nightmare's hooves every time we stop to rest. Just in case because horses tend to drop their shoes every once and a while," Mirlín said and hung Midwin's bridle on a tree branch.
Fyen walked over to Nightmare, looked at the horse's hooves, and then gave her expert opinion. "Well, they look all right to me, maybe a bit dusty."
Mirlín laughed and also stepped over to the bay mare. "No, you'll have to lift the hoof, like this." The woman grabbed Nightmare's front leg and peered at the sole of the hoof. She used a sturdy twig to pry out the dirt. "Now you try the hind foot," Mirlín said after finishing with the front hoof.
Looking slightly hesitant, the girl took a tentative step closer. "Uh, all right."
"Stand close to Nightmare, run your right hand down her hindquarters, and bring it around the leg, see like this." Mirlín showed quickly but didn't lift the foot for Fyen. "Take hold of the fetlock there, and pull the joint upwards and then forwards. You can push Nightmare's leg with your shoulder so that she has to move her weight to the left," the woman continued to explain.
Fyen's face had turned red and she was gritting her teeth. Finally she managed to raise the foot.
"Don't hold it too high. Good. Now use the twig to clean it—"
Nightmare didn't seem like she wanted to cooperate any longer with her owner. She started jerking the hoof as Fyen tried her best to hold on to it.
"Hey! You don't have to cling on to th—"
Mirlín's advice was cut short as Nightmare kicked, causing Fyen to lose her balance. She grabbed Mirlín's arm for support but instead they both fell down with surprised shrieks and resounding thumps. Nightmare trampled the ground, whinnying nervously.
There was a loud rustling and then Reynaer jumped out of a bush, holding up his blade rigid in front of him but other than that, the man was naked and dripping water, a myriad of leaves and twigs sticking to his body.
"What's going on? Is someone attacking us?" he shouted and looked around like an angry hawk. Then he spotted the two surprised and bemused ladies lying on the ground at Nightmare's feet. Realizing there was no imminent danger threatening them, Reynaer lowered his sword strategically and cleared his throat before speaking in a low, manly voice. "Oh, um, everything seems to be in order. I'll just go back, um, over there..." He backed up, this time around the bush, not through it.
"Well, there seems to be at least some perks in traveling with two strapping lads," Mirlín grinned.
Fyen wrinkled her nose. "Eww..." She went back to cleaning Nightmare's hooves and asked. "You gonna bathe when the boys are done?"
Mirlín shrugged. "Yes, probably. I don't smell too good."
Fyen finished the hind foot, this time successfully. "Me too. I got to wash this gambeson some time too."
"You can wash it in Brycgea. We'll probably get there by sundown," the woman said.
"Good." Fyen cleaned the rest of the hooves. Luckily Nightmare had no whims on her mind anymore.
“Fyen… there’s something I would like to talk about… with you,” Mirlín started, leaning her shoulder against a nearby birch, her eyes fixed on the girl.
Fyen patted dirt off her palms and then looked up at the woman. “Sure.”
“It’s about what happened in Coilea. Everything you told me last night about the magick and the Sons, all that.” She straightened her posture and stepped closer to the girl, looking down into her green eyes. “I don’t think that was the kind of girl your mother wants to see when we finally find her. I understand that you are hurting but you can’t go all reckless about your life right now. You shouldn’t go drinking alone, especially not without a cloak or a hood while you’re wearing that outfit, I mean, your hose. You know people frown upon it and it draws unnecessary attention to you. So does rowdy behavior, cursing, drunkenness… that’s not what a sweet girl like you is supposed to do and I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want to see you go about it that way. It’s also dangerous to dally around with magick, especially the dark kind. You can’t risk the Sons another time. Maybe you got away last night but that might not be the case next time. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Fyen lowered her gaze. It was difficult to look into the eyes of someone who wasn’t only reprimanding her but who was right. “I… I do. And I’m so sorry about… how I acted yesterday. It’s just…” She tried to keep her voice steady and sniffed a few times before trusting herself to speak. “It’s just that that sort of things… getting drunk, that kind of behavior and everything… helps me cope. I know it’s not good but…” Now she looked up into the woman’s dark-blue eyes. “It just hurts so bad, Mirlín,” Fyen said, unable to hold back tears any longer. “It’s so hard!”
The woman pulled her into a firm hug and let out a deep sigh. “I know. But you got to keep your head together and focus. We’re on a mission, aren’t we? And if you feel like you can’t take it, seek one of us. I’m sure someone’s always available to keep you company, get drunk with you if need be but please don’t do it alone anymore. Try to be the kind of girl your mom would be proud of. When we find her, she has to be able to recognize her daughter. That vivacious girl I got a glimpse of in the blacksmith’s. That girl.”
Fyen wiped her tears on the sleeve of her tunic and nodded several times while she sought out her voice. “I… I promise I’ll try to be better. Smarter about it all. And I’m sorry, Mirlín, for acting like an idiot. I didn’t mean to, especially… I mean, how much you’ve helped me already,” she sniffed.
“It’s all right. Everything’s forgiven now. And I’m also sorry I left you, I,” this time it was her face which was overcome with hesitation, “I had a few things I had to take care of. So, let’s try to, uh, keep a better eye on each other in the future, yeah?”
Fyen blinked away the last tears and actually managed a thankful smile. “Promise. And thank you, really. I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been to find a friend like you.”
“Another thing. Well, several. I take it you haven’t been living on the road too much before this?”
“No,” the girl said, “this is my first time traveling.”
“Well, just a few things. It’s sometimes a little more complicated to be a girl on the road, especially since we haven’t been blessed with plonkers so we can’t go pissing on every bush and tree stump wherever we feel our bladder’s full. Because of that, infections down there are actually really easy to catch and a horrible nuisance on the road when you try to ride so please, take extra care of your hygiene. Especially if it’s that time of the month. No matter what men might say, washing is not for wusses. You also have to keep your clothes clean, especially undergarments. If you are afraid of lice or crabs, shave. It also reduces pit sweat. Try to comb your hair twice a day. Don’t let it get tangled, don’t let the strands stick together or soon you’ll have thick batons of hair growing from your head. Unless that’s something you want. Eat lots of greens, that’s good especially for women. If you feel uncomfortable riding many hours a day because of tits bouncing all over, we can get you a bodice of sorts.” She looked up in thought, biting her lower lip. “Phew. I think that was all for now. Questions?”
“Wow,” Fyen said with an awkward chuckle. “I never really thought of any of that before. But I think I’ll manage with my… tits and I, uh, I’ll wash good,” she muttered and rubbed her neck. Then the girl looked up at Mirlín. “Thanks, really. It’s great to have a… well, I’ve never had a big-sister but I bet it must feel something like this.”
The blonde woman smiled and patted Fyen on the shoulder. “Glad if I can help. If you’ve got something weighing on your mind, don’t be afraid to tell me.”
“All right,” the girl said and gave Mirlín a quick hug. “Thanks.”
Then the bushes rustled a little as Reynaer stepped into the clearing, wearing his black pants with a towel draped over one shoulder, his weapons belt over the other, and his gambeson and brigandine in his hands.
Acting as if nothing peculiar had happened before, he said: "Your turn, ladies! The water's a bit chilly but you'll feel reborn afterwards. Just mind the trout.” He set down his things and sat by the fire.
Fyen grabbed her sack and looked at Mirlín. "You coming?"
"You mind if I bathe on my own?" the woman asked, her gaze stealing away from Fyen’s and landing somewhere around the shirtless man preparing the supper.
The girl shook her head. "Not at all. You wanna go first or…?"
"Nah, you go. Just don't go too far."
“Sure thing. I’ll be quick.”
Fyen turned on her heels and disappeared into the bushes. She came to a small bare strand by the river, perfect for bathing. Fyen drew her sword and stuck it in the soft ground close to the water. Then she removed her armor and gambeson. For some reason she didn't feel quite alone although thick bushes covered the view to their camp entirely. Thinking it was only her nerves, Fyen laid the rest of her clothes next to the sword. The water was chilly and goose bumps appeared all over her body when she stepped into the river.
Too bad Mirlín didn't come too. She was a beautiful woman and Fyen liked to sneak glances at her when she wasn't watching. And she had felt very safe sleeping next to the woman, her smooth, warm skin somehow reminding Fyen of her childhood. Mirlín was also just so graceful and precise with her movements. She was a Woman with a capital ‘W’: her body was slender yet pleasantly curvy, and her legs long and straight. It was too bad she always hid under big, bulky clothes and her wolf hide.
Then Fyen’s memory revealed something that had eluded her up until now. Did she really wear a dress last night? Or was I just so drunk I… no, I wasn’t, she did wear a dress! Fyen wondered why Mirlín had had such a dramatically different outfit last night. What made last night special? Were she and Reyn… having a romantic evening? The sting of jealousy was hard to pinpoint: the girl wasn’t quite sure of whom she was jealous and then concluded she would have preferred to keep them both to herself to get their undivided attention.
Fyen wondered if she would ever grow up to even remotely resemble Mirlín or if she was doomed to forever look like a young, flat-chested boy with the curves of a twig. The strange thing was that when Mirlín walked through a tavern, men looked at her with lust in their eyes but also respect, desire, yearning, as if wanting to get to know her.
When men looked at Fyen it was different. She felt like the men who stared at her just wanted to ravish her and do dirty things to her like the Sons she had encountered yesterday. That was just… gross. Men, generally, were pretty gross, she figured. Even Desiderius resembled a horny mongrel looking for the first creature who didn't mind getting humped. However, Reynaer seemed different. For some reason, he didn't look at her like that. She felt like she could fall asleep next to him knowing that he would stay up all night just to make sure she didn't kick off her covers and reveal an ankle. Maybe that's what it's like having a big brother? At first she had wondered why the man had become so protective of her but eventually she had come to the conclusion that maybe people sometimes just ‘clicked' like that. If I was a big, burly man I'd be protective of Mirlín! I think.
A cold ripple splashing against her shin awoke Fyen from her reveries and she noticed that she was shivering. With a bar of soap in her hand, she stepped deeper into the water and when she was thigh deep, the girl took a deep breath, grit her teeth, squatted, and started washing herself. The cold water made her shiver but it also sharpened her senses. After much scrubbing and rinsing bits of soap out of her black hair, Fyen finally stood up and started towards the shore.
Suddenly she felt a hand grab her right thigh under the surface. The grip felt colder than the river and, with a shrill scream, she jumped forwards, somehow managed to break free from the icy grip, and turned around. There was nobody behind her but when she looked down into the water, she saw the face again. It still wore the same gaze, the same twisted smile that reminded her of cruelty, hatred, disease, all the evil in the world. With another high pitched scream she stumbled backwards and fell on the sand. She grasped her sword and pointed it towards the water but nothing came out of the river. The only thing she felt was water dripping down her back and the wind biting into her exposed skin. Then Mirlín was there right beside her.
"What happened? Are you all right?" she asked.
Fyen kept glancing at the water. "I was just coming out when... something cold grabbed my thigh. There was nothing there but when I turned I... I think I saw the same face in the water that I thought I saw in our room back in Coilea. The one I told you about." Fyen was shuddering violently.
Mirlín grabbed a towel and wrapped it around the shaking girl. ”You're safe now. I think you saw a reflection of your hex but I don't know what it means."
Fyen put on her hose, tunic, and boots but couldn't stop shaking. She insisted on holding on to her blade as they walked back to the camp where both Reynaer and Desiderius were on their feet, ready to dash to their aid if needed.
"What happened?" the older man asked.
"I think I just got bumped by a large trout," Fyen said with a laugh.
"You sure? You're as pale as death," Reynaer noticed, "and shivering too."
The girl shrugged. "The water was cold. Hope I'm not getting ill."
Mirlín walked her to the fire and sat her down. "I saw some fish jump down the river earlier."
Reynaer eyed both of them suspiciously but didn't say anything. "Mirlín, you gonna bathe too? Want me to stand guard on the other side of the bush just in case?"
"Thanks but I can handle a trout or two, see if I'd catch one for supper," she smiled.
The woman gathered her things and went to bathe while Reynaer and Desiderius started preparing a meal of bread, cheese, and fried eggs. Meanwhile Fyen sat close to the fire with her arms around her knees, her eyes firmly fixed at the flames.
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