Into the Deep Wood

The camp packed up, and the procession left as soon as night hit. They did not move at the same pace –they moved much faster. Each horse trotted in step with the other. Val did not know how to ride, but her horse had known to move hip to hip with the others. The up and down movement had dizzied her, and she felt the sickness from earlier that day make its return, thankfully not nearly as vengeful as before.

Marat rode by her. The comfort in his face and the posture of his body was that of someone raised around horses.

Something from the night before, Val recalled, something that Johannes had said about Marat…

He called him a templar. She did not know what that was, but she knew it to be somehow important.

Without stopping, they rode all night and into the morning. The soothing night air invigorated the horses, and the riders were in good spirits. Ahead, their voices boomed and rang - above them that of Johannes. His laugh rolled through the ranks and only faded toward the back.

“How is your head?” Marat asked. It was near sunrise, and nearly a full day had passed since they first poured wine. She nodded but did not meet his eyes.

“Better, I have learned.”

“And what is it you learned?”

“To drink according to my weight and not my merriment.” She recited and felt his self-satisfied smile even if she did not look up to see it. She smiled too, lightly, and felt her cheeks warm.

Since the events of the prior day, she could not look him in the eye or speak to him plainly. The thoughts she had in her head now colored Marat in a different light.

And she was scared. She knew she would be until they parted with the dusk vanguard and Johannes.

Johannes.

She had not thought much of him at all. Any blinding splendor he shone with the night before had faded once she found herself in his bed. Something about that moment broke the veil, and she saw but a man. Whatever notions of his princedom she held dissipated. Something was humanizing about the flesh.

Val did not understand it, and she did not feel as if they had been one at any moment, as people often said.

They were two. Two strangers, two very different people who, for a moment in time, crossed each other’s path. Who would not have done so had it not been for the wine and flowing conversation. Who would not have if she had not been such a stupid, stupid girl.

Day broke, and only then did Johannes order them to stop. Just like the day before, the ranks separated, and each man left for their duty. Marat had separated from her as well.

“We are guests no longer, and I have to ensure our place.” He told her. “ You have an hour. If I were you, I would not socialize too much. As far as I can tell, you are the only woman in this assemblage. I’ll let you figure out what that means.”

He rode off, and Val remained on the horse, watching the movement about her.

Looking down; it was far to the ground, and she did not know how to dismount. She had a hard enough time even reaching the stirrups at her height.

To her dismay, the horse began to walk in a direction she did not mean to go.

“Oh no…” She whispered, quickly trying to pull on the reins, but to no avail. It was unclear if she had not used enough force or too much - but the horse went trotting against the flow of the troops. “Oh no, no, no!”

Val decided then and there that she did not care for horses.

She held on to the reins and had not gone far, but as she pulled hard enough and the horse stopped, she saw herself overlooking a large, cleared-out circle. Men were working on setting posts around it. They had not done this the night before, and a pang of worry crossed Val’s mind.

Uncomfortably shuffling, Val finally wrapped her hands around the horse’s neck and carefully rotated her body to slip off the side. It had not gone as well as she hoped and she went flying to the ground - but somewhat successfully, as the fall was not as far down as it would have been otherwise.

Dusty and embarrassed, Val hurried to stand and shake the dirt from her dress and hair.

The men around her stared, and Val felt an ominous air settle around her. Marat’s last words echoed in her head.

Wagons were being unloaded nearby as she walked back toward the front. There were wine casks, water tanks, and large woven food baskets. Strapped to the wagons were sturdy shields. Scuffed and weathered, they bore marks both deep and thick and those that were thin and shallow. They were not shined and did not catch the light like Johannes' breastplate. Past them were thick poles tied and piled on top of one another.

There was covered storage, unclear on what it contained, but it stood tall and cast a colossal shadow.

“I see you are inspecting the reserves; how did we do? Does my regimen pass?” Johannes’ radiant smile greeted her, pulling her attention away from the wagons.

“I am not sure what I am looking at.” She admitted, immediately feeling uncomfortable - this was their first interaction that day, and she did not know what to say or what was expected of her. They were alone here, and her face quickly reddened with that realization.

“The heart of my army.” He answered, sweeping his arm across to encompass all around them. Stepping toward her, Johannes placed one arm around her shoulders and, with the other, pointed to where the soldiers were rushing about. “If I am the head, they are its body. This, back here, is what feeds them and gives them life in battle.”

Val looked but could not focus on anything but his arm around her. It felt like a boundary had been crossed, one that another day may have felt like a friendly embrace. It was not welcome now.

“Do not be uneasy, beautiful one.” He said, noting her discomfort and dropping his arm but picking up her hand instead, holding it to his chest. “I am not here to embarrass you nor pursue something you clearly do not want. Our time, it was an oasis in the desert - but it has passed, and your secret is safe with me.”

She breathed relief. Although still nervous, she was grateful for the words. He was willing to keep it between them.

“Thank you,” she said, “It is not that… I mean, I find you–”

“Please, Valeria, no need for any explanations. It is my honor to escort you to the city. Let anything beyond rest with the road behind.” He assured her again. Johannes offered her his arm, and she took it, this time more at ease.

As they walked, he explained the intricacies of leading the army. It was not fascinating, not even interesting, and Val’s mind kept drifting off, despite her wanting to be polite.

They came out to the middle of the newly erected tents. Most, if not all, of the soldiers gathered to have their first meal of the day. Across the way, Val saw Marat. He had been talking to someone, but he smiled and excused himself at seeing them.

Again, her heart jumped.

But, as Marat approached, Johannes turned to her suddenly.

“Beautiful one, but I had not gotten to say since you left my tent so quickly,” He spoke loudly and took her shocked face in one hand, lifting her chin as he leaned in, “That I had considerably enjoyed our night.”

He kissed her briefly enough that she could not catch on to what happened and long enough that Marat stopped in his tracks. His expression changed to that of confusion and anger. His eyes fixed on Johannes, whose smile beamed, but his eyes were smug. For one moment, Val thought Marat would attack the man. But then, his eyes moved to her.

Where he looked for reassurance, he had only seen guilt, and all the anger seemed to dissipate. The only thing left was a deep, painful disappointment.