Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Evening Fun

A little later soldiers came for us. Only two this time, and they looked rather bothered than aggressive when they entered the tent. Until they saw me.

I stand up and was taller than any of them. Trying to smile my most innocent smile successfully released some of the tension. Nice to know my charm was still working, although it was probably more Freya's well-chosen words.

As before, Freya guided me with her hand, I just followed on automatic, changing directions on her slight pressure without thinking at all. This time I deliberately looked at the staring faces, smiling at them, and guessed their reactions. Smiling made them aware that I was human as well, and they looked away embarrassed. A few even catcalled me. Yes! But Freya threw angry looks at them. I hadn't expected feminists here.

Of all these people, I was probably the tallest. And one of the cleanest as well, despite woken up in the dirt of a battlefield. But then not so surprising given a frontline camp after a battle, and probably 500 years on the wrong side of running hot water. (Not entirely true, as I learned much later.) Beyond the gawping at me, I got a good impression of how to maintain an army, since the enclosure for the enemy was in the rear, where the washerwomen and cooks, butchers, and bakers did their work, and then there were smiths, and whatever guilds were in charge for weapon making and armour repairs. Some white tents might have been the clerics or healers, although Freya and the other healer wore black.

Closer to the centre, the area became more military. In front of every tent was a helmet stand, to show who was there, probably. Nametag pheasant feathers.

The second meeting with the general was short, and I was only scenery this time. Since I could not grab a word of what Freya and the general were discussing, I just smiled and was ignored. This time, I spent more attention on the hand movements greetings, and I think I did a decent copy of that as well.

After a few steps, the soldiers went away and we were again on our own.

"I took a few liberties. You have been hired as a freelance courier, bringing letters to the main quarter near Krenburg."

"Thanks, but I have no idea how to get there, and I do not speak"

"Shh, worry not," Freya grinned. "Just hire me. Don't look so surprised, I have taken leave from the military so you can hire me officially as a guide. You get paid, and from that can pay me. Just food and riding. Please."

"Clever girl! Getting away from the army, and even being paid for it."

Freya's face showed guilt.

"Don't worry, I don't mind. I want to see the world, too and together sound good." And getting away from this stinking camp with too many people was high on my agenda as well. And better with Freya than some unknown guide. I think we understand each other quite well, despite all the obvious differences.

"Are you ok with carrying me? Otherwise, you have to pay for a horse as well."

"That saddle bag was heavier than you. No problem, I think."

Freya was enthusiastic. At this moment she was indeed still a child. "So let's eat something nice and then go back to that tent and start tomorrow early."

"Is there a washroom nearby, err, an outhouse?"

I could have found it just following the stench. It was a wooden log without bark, supported on both sides and a trench below. I selected the least dirty part and shoved my back over it. I raised my tail as high as I could and hoped that the log would hold my weight. An did my business, ignoring the stares. What would I give for some curtains, at least.

The relief was greatly needed, and I just realised what big a pressure had built up. Several litres and kilos lighter, there was no need to linger here any longer. Especially without toilet paper. I strode quickly away from the hell of a stench. Freya could barely follow.

But we did not return to the tent. Freya guided me towards the dining area.

"What do you want to eat?"

We were now far enough from the facilities, that I could consider this question. While I was really hungry, I highly doubt there would be a Macaroni bake, but one could hope for a bacon omelette. But what could I digest? "What do centaurs eat?"

"Most of them just normal human food, and then their horse part gets constipated. I told you they were badly made."

To me, the centaurs sounded more and more like brick toys with humans. Lucky me being different. But back to the problem at hand. Hmm, I imagined a steak and tried to trigger the voices in my head. They came back quickly. Most of them disagreed with the steak. On the other hand lettuce, apples, and carrots got an almost unanimous agreement. Potatoes did not provoke any response, maybe they were unknown, but even grass and oaks got little protest.

"Vegetarian it seems." I sighed, still thinking about Macaroni bake, my favourite vegetarian option.

"Then we will join the clerics." She smiled.

"Great, they had invited me anyway."

Freya looked surprised.

* * *

The sun was still up but the tables were packed. Back in medieval times, candles and lamp oil were expensive; also here folks ended the day with sunset. Heck, I have not even asked about seasons, or even how many hours per day. Not that it would mean much without a clock.

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When we approached the cleric's table, everyone froze. However, at the top end sat the tall cleric from before, Clavs, and his and Freya's words had hit the right nerve. He shuffled a little to the side on the plank for Freya, and they made a small opening on the table at the top end, where I could sit on the ground on my haunches.

The food was some kind of rich vegetable soup. Everyone filled their bowls and then first drank it, and then suck the vegetable pieces. I did as well, and it went down all too quickly. I ate a second helping, after Freya's encouragement. I was also passed a heavy tin mug. After the experience with the water back at the battlefield, I was pleasantly surprised: it was some spiced apple cider.

Seeing me eating and drinking, Freya left for the healers' table for some real meat dish. But then senior healer Clavs translated for me. He also encouraged me to a third and fourth helping, until I was really full. In between, he coaxed the full story and as many details from my world, as I could explain. But of course, computers, telephones, or just screens were totally alien concepts. And the cider was not strong enough to babble about atomic bombs or poison gas, although there could be magical weapons here which might be as destructive.

The clerics were all male and single, but this was due to being out at the frontline, Clavs explained. All the clerics at the table were serving for ten years as penance. And while the healer tried their best, in the end, everyone will see a cleric. Being frontline, there was a lot of work after a battle, like today.

"Enough of that. Let's go singing!" he declared and stood up. The rest followed in one fluid motion

I slowly stand up too. Singing? I have never really sung after primary school, apart from humming in the shower. Still, I followed them.

The sun had just dived under the clouds and lit their bellies with a beautiful pink tint. At this moment, it looked the same as home.

* * *

They went a little further downhill from the eating area. Two of them had gathered instruments, a box with strings, and a hand drum. Then they sat in a three-quarter circle, open to the west where the sky was giving them a gorgeous sunset.  I was placed in the middle, to the east, as the guest of honour. I enjoyed it, even though it might have been for the false reason of bleeding lively soul from an impossible body.

The strings on the box were quickly tuned and then they started to sing. I had no idea if this was the evening choral or just something to relax. Probably both. But it was great, there were different voices, and it was calming and deeply touching. I had once listened to Gregorian chats, but the chorals here were much richer. As soon as the sun had sunken behind the horizon, their singing came to an end. They bowed towards each other, and a few went off. But now people from other guilds came some black-robed healers, washerwomen, other guilds, and even soldiers. Some more instruments came with them as well.

The next song had a driving rhythm to the beat of the hand drums, and also a flute. People started to dance in rows, while others entered the singing. It was very catchy, even I tapped my paws. Then a young cleric grabbed my hand and I followed him, too surprised for resistance. We stood next to each other in one row, moving towards the other, then to the side. He told me the steps in his broken mindspeak. While the exact stepping pattern was challenging, keeping up with the movement was no problem; no, it was fun, lots of fun. I could do this. I even got the pattern right, repeating them with my front and back legs at the same time. Quite an effort, I panted. Then came the next stanza, and there was a turning around each other. Turning was a challenge since there was not enough space to the sides, so I pushed my body up and turned on my hind paws, sailing with my font paws above their heads. The people next to me whistled impressed. Encouraged by this, I danced on, losing myself to the music, and danced like them, apart from the jumping turns, to which each they cheered.

The dance lasted long. I could smell the fresh sweat from the dancers and I was sweating too. A lot of people complimented me after the dance, probably. I wished I could understand them, but I could just smile back. The next dance was a pair dance. When the music started, couples were forming. It was a rather slow dance, mostly the partners were facing each other and at the end of each stanza there was a wild turning together. And then partners would move one to their left. I stand on the outside, moving with the rhythm when someone tapped my shoulder. I looked surprised at a smiling young man. I followed him eagerly. When it came to the turning part, I raised on my hind legs raising him also in the air, while turning with two steps, before setting him down on the other side. He laughed like crazy and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, before we each moved one to the right, facing the next partner. It has been a very long time since I have been this happy.

The next dance was also with singing, but of course, I only danced.

They sang and danced until it became too dark to make out individuals, just silhouettes against the dark sky. Slowly one by one people left, tired from work and dancing, until only a few were remain. I was one of the last, laughing with my partners, lost for words. The youngest cleric had stayed, to translate for me as best as he could with his broken mindspeak.

At the camp uphill, a few lanterns had been lit, more like lighthouses to guide us back than providing any meaningful illumination.

The cleric, Tirad was his name, found the healers' table quickly. Apparently, Freya was not as strong as me, well no surprise being that young. Or maybe they served a much stronger cider for the healers. She was snoring behind the table, her robe wet from the dew. I lifted her up, and she snored on. Tirad walked me to the healers' tents and shortly afterwards Freya and I were given a small empty tent and two blankets. I rolled Freya into one blanket and went to the facilities following my nose. Somehow the night had become brighter again, and indeed a three-quarter moon rose on my way back. It looked not so different from home as far as I could tell as a former full-time city dweller. It made the way back much easier.

In the tent, I was still unsure how to sleep. I mean it may sound stupid, but should I sleep standing like a horse (who lay down too, as I learned later). Or on the side like house cats? And no idea how squirrels sleep. First, I tried on the side, but it was uncomfortable since both my shoulders were broad and my spine was hanging through in between. Inspired by the easy bending down even below my legs, I tried lying on my back. That worked better, although I felt every stone and hole in the uneven grass, even with the blanket below. And in the pitch-black tent, there was no way to flatten the ground. So one last position to try: I rolled on my belly, stretching the front legs forwards and folding the hind legs on themselves. The front legs were so long, that the paws ended near my face. I cuddled my front paws. My belly was suspended by the hind legs, so that worked out. And also the paws were surprisingly comfortable, the fur on them was soft and smelled a little like cinnamon, much nicer than the blanket.

* * *

The next thing I saw was daylight shining under the rim of the tent. I carefully rose my upper body, expecting cramps from that stretched position. But nothing, as if I had been made for it. I was slightly hung over, but given the evening dancing, that was nothing. Freya was snuggling my hind paw. I yawned and stretched my upper body, and then I heard my stomach gurgle. I was a big girl now, with lots of appetites.

Hmm, the grass in the tent did not smell too bad. I gave it a try and indeed, it tasted a little like rosemary and basil, although a bit dry. I ripped off everything in reach of my hands. It was not much though, but enough for a try whether I would keep it down or not.

Outside were voices, sleepy ones and commanding ones, and just normal ones.

Freya had said, we should leave early today. So I wiggled the hind paw out of her grip. Still no reaction. Then brushed her face with my tail. It took a moment for her to wake up. After a few more moments, she shot up and would have fallen over, if I hadn't grabbed her by the shoulder.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

Her face went through several expressions, visually sorting her memory. Finally, settling on tired hangover. "Ouch," she winced.

"I will be back in a minute."

"Hnn," was her reaction.

So I went again for my business.

When I came back, she was awake, had even washed her face, had the saddle bag on her should and was eager to go. Not me though, food was needed.

The breakfast was yesterday's bread in a thin broth. Not my first choice for sure. I asked for some cabbage, which was in large supply and shredded a quarter to my bowl. Much better.

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