Wooden Swords
By the time I've finished my meal I've met most of the men in the camp.
After watching the children come and talk to me the men seemed to finally gain the courage to come over and have a conversation with me.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover that most of them seemed like decent people.
It was confusing to mix my conversations with the knowledge that these men rob people for a living.
It didn't add up how they could be decent but still think it's okay to steal.
For years I longed to escape Murdoch and my family and for a moment I was desperate enough to think that my marriage to Richard was my way out. Now I'm finally out and free and I need to make the most of it.
Instead of spending the day hiding away in my small shelter, I pull my wild curls up into a pile on top of my head and venture out into the chaos that is Merrywood.
Everywhere I look something else is happening - An older man with a long beard chopping wood in the northern clearing, several young men work quickly and tirelessly picking up the logs and stacking them into high, tessellated piles, and several boys chasing each other around.
In the southern clearing I see Bjorn stoking the main campfire next to a mini, makeshift portable bench covered in vegetables and a large slab of meat.
I'm not really hungry yet and I'm still a bit wary of the supposedly friendly giant so I turn in another direction and head towards the sounds of children's laughter.
The kids here are all so adorable and being around them makes me happier as a result and I could use a little boost of dopamine before I begin my day.
As I get closer I recognise the sound of wood clacking together and sharp raps fill the air.
Nik and Bobbin and standing off against each other, both holding wooden swords, while Wren watches intently.
Bobbin goes to attack Nik in a sloppy hit and Nik dodges him easily.
"Come on, Bobbin. You remember what I taught you about leaving your left side open, anyone could have got a hit in.
" Nik's voice is easy and smooth as he demonstrates himself the best way to attack an opponent.
Bobbin nods in concentration, his face twisted as he intently watches Nik move.
"Try again. This time watch the arc of your sword and twist your body to move with it."
Bobbin swings again, less sloppy this time but still needing much improvement.
I'm suddenly thankful for all the free time I had in Murdoch and the guards who had equally the same amount.
The guards in the barracks used to train me on how to sword fight- I was always average at it.
I understood the technique but the guards often teased that I didn't have enough viciousness to attack someone effectively.
They didn't say that after the Incident that followed my injuries that night.
Nik moves to meet Bobbin's sword with his own, not holding back at all. Bobbin's wooden stick goes flying out of his hands and lands in the trees.
"Ugh! I'm never gonna get this!" Bobbin can't help the little stamp of his foot, a far cry from his normal happy disposition.
"It's okay, Bobbin. Why don't we take a break. Wren! Come over here. How about you take Bobbin to help Bjorn with the cooking?" Nik replies and Wren jumps up from his spot sitting against a tree.
"Come on, Bobbie," Wren ruffles Bobbin's hair playfully and Bobbin pushes him away half-heartedly.
"Fine. Thanks, Nik."
The two take off towards the campfire and Bjorn, dueling forgotten, and I finally make myself known.
Nik looks unsurprised when I step into view, "it's not polite to eavesdrop, you know? I would have thought a Princess would know better."
"I would have thought the leader of a large group of thieves would have been better at sword fighting but I guess life is just full of surprises." My voice is calm and I'm thankful that none of my nerves are noticeable. I don't know why I'm always nervous around Nik.
Nik gives me a bemused look before walking over and picking up Bobbin's forgotten sword. "Do you think you could do better, Princess?"
I push my shoulders back and do my best to look confidant, "Of course. And don't call me Princess."
Nik hands me the wooden sword with a smirk, "that's your title isn't it? Aren't you used to being called Princess?"
"It is my title, but from your lips it sounds like an insult." I ready my stance a few feet in front of him and he eyes my form with a shrewd eye giving nothing away.
"Nice to know you're thinking about my lips, Princess. Careful or someone might think you like me."
"I've never heard such nonsense in my entire life."
Nik's lips tilt in a smirk and I find my eyes drawn there like a stupid moth to a dangerous flame. I'm only thinking about his lips now because he mentioned it, not for any other reasons. Obviously.
I wait and he strikes first. Nik moves swiftly and before I can bring up my own sword to defend myself, he's used his to tap the side of my hip.
"You're dead."
I roll my eyes, "You wish."
Without giving any warning I lunge, swinging my sword in a tight arc and narrowly missing his chest. He jumps back with slitted eyes, his lips taut.
I swing again and this time Nik brings his sword up to clash with mine.
He attempts to pull the same trick that he did with Bobbin but I tighten my grip on my handle and twist my body into his, not allowing him to gain the force he needs to send my sword flying though the air.
Pushing him back, I lunge again and gently enough stab his chest right above his heart.
"You're dead." I repeat.
This time Nik smiles properly. "Best of three?"
For a second the air whooshes out of my lungs. He's always gorgeous but when he smiles he's breathtaking. Nik notices me pause and misinterprets my face.
"Or we can stop...?"
"No. Best of three sounds good." Nik gives me a weird look but gets back into position anyway.
He nods once and then lunges forward. He strikes quickly and we duel again.
Our swords clash, both of us panting heavily, red cheeked and breathless.
We move in sync with each other. For a second I'm reminded of the first time I danced in a ballroom in front of every noble citizen of my kingdom.
I twirled in time with my partner and the eyes of all the people sent my heart rate pounding.
What I'm feeling now is the same. Both dizzying and exhilarating at once.
The breath is knocked from my lungs as my back slams into a tree trunk, the edge of Nik's sword pressed gently against my neck.
Neither of us speak as we pant. His body is pressed up against mine and the slight pressure at my throat sends a thrill through me.
I watch as his eyes flick to mine and then trace the slopes of my face until resting on my lips.
He leans in and I brace myself for the brush of his lips on mine.
Instead his breath traces the curve of my ear and I shudder in his arms.
Starting anything with any of the men here is nothing short of stupid.
Not only have I just escaped marriage but my time in Merrywood is limited.
As much as I would like to spend the rest of my life here, I can't. I have no idea if Richard will continue looking for me and as much as I hate the King I am still the Princess of Murdoch.
It's my responsibility to take care of my people and since the money from Gilgunronh is no longer on the table I need to figure out another source of revenue for the kingdom.
Daria was right in some aspects. I have been selfish.
My stomach growls and I realise I still haven't eaten yet. Changing direction I move towards the main campfire instead where Bjorn is still cooking, Bobbin and Wren nowhere to be found.
Bjorn glances at me as I approach.
"Hi, Bjorn. Um I'm kind of hungry, is there anything to eat?"
Bjorn looks pointedly from me to the food bubbling in the cook pot with a wry air.
Okay, well obviously I realise that was a stupid question but I didn't need the judgement. My cheeks flush pink with slight embarrassment and Bjorn smiles at me in amusement.
"Here." His voice is rough and low as he hands me a bowl filled with stew.
"Thank you." I lift the spoon from the bowl to my mouth and tentatively taste it. "Oh! This is delicious, Bjorn!"
This time it's Bjorn's cheeks who flush red and he gives me a slight nod. Before he can turn back to the pot I talk again.
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" I'm interested to know more about the men in this camp, especially Bjorn, Nik and Caspian.
Bjorn looks a bit pained, like being made to talk to anyone is a chore.
"My mother." His answers are short and to the point.
It's weirdly rather charming.
"She must have been a wonderful cook.
Did you grow up far from here?"
He nods and then tilts his head in a northern direction. "Hrishmnak."
Hrishmnak is a small village not too far away from Murdoch in the mountains.
I've only been there once and it was desperately, bitterly cold and the people there lived in caves to shelter against the harsh environment.
The citizens were all huge with similar hairstyles to Bjorn and they lived off the land as much as they could.
Hrishmnak didn't involve themselves in the trade route that ran through the country, instead choosing to hunt and gather for survival, and because of this they didn't rate much interest from my father.
He was always only interested in the things that could make him more money.
Bjorn continued, "my people are big on being able to care for yourself."
I nod in understanding before replying sheepishly, "I can't really cook.
I wanted to tell Nik the first day when he tasked me with cooking but he walked off before I could say anything.
Being a Princess and all, I never really cared enough to learn.
"
Not for the first time the differences between myself and the men at this camp are highlighted.
My own privileged childhood, while not without its trauma, is completely different to the struggle these men went through to get to where they are today.
Bjorn nods his head in gentle understanding at odds with his rough exterior.
"Come here tomorrow night. I will teach you."
Surprise floods me. "Oh! You will? That's so kind of you but you really don't have to if you're too busy..."
Bjorn stops me with a look, "I wouldn't have offered if I was too busy." With a simple nod he turns back to the pot, conversation obviously done.
I walk away with my bowl in my hands wondering who exactly the men at this camp are.