Chapter Five B
It had been Wendell who had taken Cam from the small keep, leading him out into the bailey, which had quieted substantially in activity since their arrival. It was still for the most part now, with only a few men moving about as dozens of sentries lined the walls in a heavy show of force.
Cam found himself looking up at the men on the walls and at his surroundings in general. The bailey was such a cavernous place and as he passed through it, he was curious about everything. He’d never seen anything like it, not in his small village nor at any time during his limited travels.
He followed Wendell through the gatehouse and out into the land beyond, which was surprisingly unprotected given the security of the castle. Ahead of them, they could see the warriors’ village, and the fires that burned into the night.
Cam was walking slightly behind Wendell, who was moving at a clipped pace as they followed the dirt path that led from the castle into the warriors’ village.
There were a few men wandering the perimeter of the encampment, gripping crossbows, which seemed to be the weapon of choice around here. Cam made an obvious observation.
“Why is it that there are no walls around the village?” he asked Wendell. “The castle has big walls, but the village has nothing.”
Wendell didn’t look at him as he answered. “There are guards around that you cannot see,” he said. “But certainly, only a madman would attack an encampment of warriors. Every man is trained to kill and well armed. It would be a fool’s folly.”
That made sense. “I suppose so,” Cam said. “But where are ye taking me?”
They had just entered the edge of the encampment and Wendell came to a halt next to one of the small structures. “Here,” he said. “This will be your home for as long as you are with us. You will have others sharing your space, so be aware. This is not for you alone.”
Cam took a close look at the structure itself.
It was a rock cottage, barely the size of a small chamber, with a sod roof.
The door was made from wood, hinged to heavy posts that were affixed to the rock wall with mortar.
As he hesitantly entered, he could see that the place was empty—no beds, no stove, nothing.
A dirt floor greeted him. Confused, and not wanting to sound ungrateful, he turned to Wendell.
“Must I fight for my bed?” he asked. “I can sleep on the floor if necessary, but must I do something tae gain a bed?”
Wendell waved him off. “A bed and a stove will be brought you,” he said. “I will send you comforts, have no doubt. A miserable man cannot fight to his potential, Cam. Remember that.”
Cam simply nodded, heading into the empty structure that was cold and dark.
There was absolutely nothing there for him to sit on, or lie on, so he sat down at the end of the cottage, leaning against one of the poles that supported the walls.
Once Wendell left him, and he found himself sitting in a dark, empty space, the events of the day came back to him in a rush.
As he sat on the floor and reflected on how he’d come to this place, he must have been more exhausted than he realized because when next he was aware, someone was coming in through the door and he hadn’t even heard them coming.
Suddenly, they were there, and people were moving around in the darkness.
Cam lurched to his feet, watching as two men moved in a wooden bed frame strung with rope. They pushed it up against a wall and still another man behind them tossed a straw-stuffed mattress on to the frame. Cam could see the chaff from the straw falling to the ground.
There was light in the cottage now, as someone hung a lantern on the post in the very middle of the cottage, a post that supported the roof. Someone else brought a brazier and yet another man dumped hot coals into it once it had been placed on the ground.
People were moving all through the cottage, leaving things behind, and when all was said and done, Cam had heat, a comfortable bed, a table with food upon it, and light.
That was more than he’d had in months. So if nothing else, coming to the Ludus Caledonia had provided him with the first real comfort he’d seen in a very long time.
As the men filtered out of the cottage, Cam went over to the table where someone had placed a large meal—boiled beef, cheese, bread, fruit, and something that smelled like spiced wine.
Starving, he began shoving food into his mouth, slurping down the spiced wine, filling his belly.
His mouth was so full that he could barely chew, but there was a great satisfaction in finally having decent food to eat.
Once he’d eaten his fill, he would collapse on the straw bed and rest on something other than the hard floor.
It seemed as if he couldn’t remember when last he’d slept on a decent bed, but perhaps that was because the last time he had, it had been with his wife by his side.
Perhaps he just didn’t want to remember those days.
Cam’s chewing slowed as thoughts of his beloved Tira swamped him, as they so often did.
She was on his mind constantly. Depressed, he sank down into the chair, taking a healthy swallow of the wine to wash down the food.
The idea of where he was and what he was doing seemed to close in on him until he pushed the rest of the food aside and simply drank the wine.
If he drank enough of it, perhaps he would forget about Tira, just for a little while.
He could only imagine what she would think of what he had done to himself.
“I am sorry, sweet,” he murmured, glancing up at the ceiling as if to look to the heavens.
“I know ye wouldna approve of this, but I couldna remain at Netherton and let yer death go unanswered. I hope ye understand. I am sorry if ye dunna. But a man must do as his heart dictates, and right now, mine tells me that justice is my right.”
He didn’t receive an answer. But, then again, he didn’t expect to.
It was yet another one-sided conversation with his wife in a long line of one-sided conversations since her death.
But he heard his door shut and, startled, he turned to see a woman standing behind him.
She was small, with long, dark hair, and as she stepped into the light, Cam could see that she was very young. Pretty, pale, and young.
Guarded, he stood up from the chair.
“What do ye want?” he asked.
The girl forced a smile. “Wendell told me to come to you, my lord,” she said. “I am Amalda.”
He eyed her. “Why would he tell ye tae come tae me?”
She kept that same forced smile on her lips and removed her cloak, exposing a revealing dress. She was covered, but the fabric was sheer enough that one could see right through it.
It was rather shocking, in truth.
“I am a lupa,” she said softly. “I am here for a man’s comfort. What is your pleasure, my lord? I can do anything you wish.”
When Cam realized what she meant, he took a step back, away from her as if the woman carried the plague. “I dunna require yer comfort, lass,” he said. “Go on, now. Leave me.”
She didn’t move. Instead, she pulled the top of her garment down to expose her small but pert breasts. She began to stroke at them, her nipples hardening with the stimulation. Licking her hands, she rubbed them over her torso, leaving wet streaks.
“If I cannot give you pleasure, then you can do what you wish to me,” she said seductively. “Anything at all, my lord. I am yours for the night. Wendell told me to welcome you to The Cal properly.”
Cam had absolutely no interest in what she was suggesting. With a grunt of frustration, he went to her and yanked up the top of her garment.
“Cover yerself,” he grumbled. “I have no interest in ye.”
The girl looked quite shocked, and even dismayed, as he covered her back up. When he snatched her cloak and tossed it around her shoulders, haphazardly, she began to grow teary.
“Did I do something wrong?” she gasped. “Please, my lord, forgive me. I did not mean to. Wendell said I should come to you and—”
He cut her off as he turned her for the exit. “I have no need for a woman.”
He practically shoved her to the door but she put her hands out, preventing him from pushing her through.
“Please,” she begged. “If Wendell thinks I have displeased you, he will be unhappy. Please… if I can only stay here for a little while, I promise I will do whatever you wish. Just a little while… I cannot leave you so soon after I have arrived or he will think I have done something wrong.”
Cam stopped short of throwing her out of the cottage. “He willna beat ye, will he?”
She sniffled, blinking back tears. “He… he’ll send me to the kitchens,” she said. “He will make me work as a servant. The last time, my hands were so blistered that I could hardly move them for a week.”
She held up her hands to him to show him the scars on her palms. Cam looked at her hands, looked at her face, and he could feel himself relenting.
He didn’t want what she was offering, but that didn’t mean he was cruel.
She looked genuinely frightened. With a sigh of resignation, he pointed to the bed.
“Sit down,” he told her.
The girl scooted over to the bed and perched her small bottom on the end of it, looking at him anxiously. Cam returned to the table where his food was cooling and sat down so that he was facing her. Picking up his wine, he took another drink before speaking.
“What did ye say yer name was?” he asked.
“Amalda,” she said quickly.
“Amalda,” he repeated. “What is a lupa?”
She shook her head. “Lupa is a term for a comfort woman here,” she said. “Did you not know that?”
He shook his head. “How could I? I have only just arrived.”
Amalda pulled her cloak more tightly about her slender body. She didn’t want to leave. Perhaps if she entertained him with conversation, he wouldn’t think so badly about her and Wendell wouldn’t hear that she’d failed to seduce yet another man with her slender body and small breasts.