Chapter 24 - Camp Followers and Princess Amara (2)

The black outfit of Commander Amara's personal guards felt light and durable, a great advantage over some of the heavier armors. I suppose only the best would be suitable for the elite, personal guards of the commander.

The blacksmith named Berk, a large, burly man with a reddish full beard that went down all the way to his chest, had some doubts about me at first before I told him what Amara had said about whipping his ass.

“Aye, that sounds just like her. It was most definitely the first princess of our Sendarid kingdom. She be a cruel and strong princess, that she is, but we love her nonetheless. Every one of us camp followers follow not for the money but because the princess has helped all of us, including the whores.”

The burly man shook his shaggy red-haired head, his great neck bulging with muscles. “Every one of us would give our lives for the princess. And if you dare cross her, mercenary, you will have us to deal with us, especially me.” The look in his eyes conveyed a protective and fierce stare, which could have only been born from a worship-like affection for the princess. His biceps, which were as big as my thighs, were flexed threateningly at me.

That was how my conversation with that blacksmith named Berk, a devoted camp follower of our commander, went before he gave me the outfit.

Interesting, I thought. So the commoners and the everyday soldiers loved the princess, but the nobles hated her. It was a thing to take note of and could come in handy in the future. It seemed like the princess had gathered up all sorts of camp followers from whores to cooks to blacksmiths to healers.

The next thing after I was dressed in the outfit of the princess's personal guard was to scrounge up something to eat. After asking directions from a few passerby soldiers who remarked excitedly that I was The Naked Disaster—the nickname had spread across the camp like a wildfire devouring a field of dry grass—I went to the food area of the camp.

When I arrived at the cooking area, there were lines of soldiers waiting to get their meals from the cooks who were mostly females. Heads turned to look toward me when I lined up and I could hear the few loud whispers that were uttered here and there about my nickname. It seemed like the soldiers of Sendarid had a tendency to gossip like fish mongers.

I was unaffected by the range of various looks I received and ignored everyone, including the few daring people that tried to strike up a conversation with me. I would even dare to say that my ability to ignore people had turned into a form of art and at the rate I was employing this art, I would soon perfect it.

When it came my turn at the line, the female cook behind the large, propped up table gave me a huge, bright smile and put an extra serving of meat inside my bowl of soup.

I nodded thanks at her and turned to leave. Some of the male soldiers nearby saw what the cook had done and protested.

“Hey, that is favoritism right there,” a skinny soldier that looked as if he had just passed adulthood shouted.

“Oh, shush you. Unlike your ugly mug, The Naked Disaster is better on me old eyes. Why, I think he should be called The Beautiful Disaster instead,” the female cook who had served me said

A few of the male soldiers made audible groans at this unfair treatment. “We are so telling Princess Amara about your favoritism!” The tones of their voices were lighthearted, not a bit serious about actually carrying out that threat. “And don't you already have a husband,” one soldier added.

I felt a little amused at the jovial atmosphere of this place, only two days left before the battle would start and the killings would begin. It was a shame that all of the soldiers here were going to die either by my hand or by the enemy camp.

The food was some sort of soup with soft venison in it and tasted better than fine. I also dipped in some dry bread to clean out the remnants of the soup before returning the empty bowl. Then I proceeded to leave the area and continued to explore some more parts of these camps.

Night soon fell and campfires were lit. Near the center of the camp, where the princess's pavilion was located at, was a huge bonfire that lit a large part of the area. I could hear sounds of revelry coming from there as the princess told humorous stories to the many soldiers that had come to pay her their greetings and their respect. The Valkyrie of Gold, without a doubt, was beloved by all her soldiers. There were only a few exceptions to this, but one could not have everything.

I decided not to attend their revelry. Instead, I elected to get an hour of sleep, which was all that I required to replenish myself of fatigue and exhaustion, not that I was even anywhere near exhaustion.

I headed toward the place where Princess Amara told me to go should I ever need a place to sleep. This place, she had supposedly said, was for the purposes of lifting morale and was just a little distance away from the camp followers' main area. Yes, it was the place for the whores.

As soon as I came within distance, I could hear sounds of pleasure from nearby tents. It was an easy enough system, I suppose. The closed flaps of the tents indicated that they were occupied, (though you could tell from the noise already) whereas the opened tents indicated that the women were free and ready.

I walked toward one of the larger tents, giving a cursory glance at my surroundings, no longer intrigued by the settings of the war camps, having had my fill of looking around today. When I went inside the tent, I found myself face to face with a young woman who looked to be around twenty.

She had a slight smattering of freckles across her nose and her face looked pale and beautiful under the dim lighting of the lantern inside the tent. Her long raven-black hair drooped down past her shoulders like a cascade of brilliant waterfalls. I could even see her small, rounded breasts that ended in faint, pink tips through the light, pink chemise she was wearing; it was the only clothing she wore.

I did not know what such a beautiful woman was doing here in a war camp working as a whore, but the most likely reason was that she had been soiled long before her time had past.

On the ground of the tent was also a light padding that acted as a small bed, just barely enough for two people to fit.

The young woman started to speak as soon as she saw me, but I did not give her a chance.

“I am just here to sleep,” I said, quickly removing the black armor outfit of the personal guard. Then I removed the upper half of my outerwear and went right to sleep, not caring that I was half-naked. It felt more comfortable to me as I was not used to wearing such a tight, long-sleeved doublet. And just before I went to sleep, I saw the look of confusion and surprise on her face.

Was it wise of me to fall asleep so quickly and leave myself vulnerable in the care of a stranger whom I did not know? You forget though that nothing short of enchanted steel could pierce through my human skin, which was akin to steel, but was still only half as tough as my dragon scales. Enough stabs from weapons would eventually pierce through my human skin, but I would be wide awake by then, so I had no worries.

When I opened my eyes again after an hour of rest, I found myself sleeping on the soft thighs of the young woman, who was down on both knees with her legs tucked behind her. I could feel a slight wetness on my face near my mouth and heard a sad humming of an unfamiliar song that spoke of the evils of this world.

The wetness on my face had come from the woman's small tears and they tasted salty with a hint of sourness. Seeing this sight before me, I felt a small, strange feeling inside me, which I could not name. Suffice to say, it just felt strange and I couldn't help but stand up and face her. Then I leaned forward toward her face and licked her tears.

It was a curious, involuntary action. A new emotion which I had never felt in my human life had surfaced in this dragon life. Only time would tell me what it was. But it could be that I had a penchant for the taste of a woman's tears or perhaps it was something else. I had also heard of many strange fetishes, but this took the whole cow.

I looked into her sad, soft brown eyes which were slightly wet from the recent tears. There was also surprise mixed in due to my actions. “Tell me your name,” I asked in a voice, which was a tad softer than my usual, indifferent tone.

“Illia.” she replied.

“I see.” I gave her only a short reply and turned around to leave the tent, but not before I gathered all of my clothing. And perhaps it was just my imagination, but I could sense a small longing as her eyes trailed my back.

I looked upward at the night sky and found the twin moons staring back. Not even looking back once at the tent I had stayed briefly at, I left the area for the whores. I hoped that the twenty five gold coins would serve her some good as I had no need of it.

Now, I thought to myself, what should I do for the rest of the night? Because come morning, I would need to attend the whipping of Baron Dorn. And it would be an amusing sight. Then the next day after that would be the start of the battle.