Marcus was carrying the prince’s gear over to the armourer to have it cleaned, oiled and tended to. He reached the armourer’s hut, hastily constructed from wood but large enough to hold several furnaces that churned out new swords and armour to replace those broken or lost. Several tough looking men worked at the furnaces, or cleaning up the armour. This was the armoury for the higher ranks, many more were scattered among the camps to tend to the rank and file soldiers. Several monks were gathered around the armoury, as well as Yoloka. Marcus approached the armourer who stood by the front, a wooden table in front of him for drop-offs.
“The prince’s armour,” Marcus said. “It needs cleaning up and polishing, got into quite a scrape today.”
“Oh aye?” the armourer replied in a rough voice. “Did he show them paladins where to go?”
“Oh yes, he taught them a lesson or two.”
The armourer chuckled, taking the armour and sword with reverence to the back of the armoury where he immediately got to work cleaning off the blood, applying oil and polishing it. Yoloka saw Marcus at the bench and came over.
“Come back for lunch?” she asked.
“Brought the prince back,” Marcus said. “You done here?”
She looked at the armoury. “Oh yes, just dropping off my sword for some sharpening. Shall we go back?”
Marcus nodded, walking along with Yoloka towards the command building.
“I’ll tell you the truth Yoloka, the prince froze with fear,” Marcus said when they were away from the armoury. “But we can’t let anybody know that, it would be rubbish for morale. I whipped up the soldiers back at the pass into a cheer for him, everyone else thinks he’s a hero, best they believe that. Don’t tell anyone, especially Mal. She’s cheering him up right now.”
Yoloka nodded. “All right. Although, why did you need to tell me?”
Marcus was confused. In truth he did not have to tell her, but he had felt like he had to, he could not lie to Yoloka. “I don’t know, just sort of did.”
She grinned. “Have you looked at yourself Marcus?”
“No, what do you mean?”
“You’re covered in blood, head to toe,” she said. “I can tell you did most of the fighting.”
Marcus looked at his hand, he had not noticed, too busy thinking about the prince and what everyone thought of him. The blood was a disgusting sight. “Damn it.”
They walked into the building, captain Bernard having gone to have the letter delivered, Zhuge Liang like a statue in front of the map. Mal and Levant were sat at the table, laughing as they talked, still hand on hand.
“She doesn’t waste time,” Yoloka muttered under her breath. “Right sit down there.”
Yoloka parked Marcus on the other side of the table that Mal and Levant were sat at. They looked at him as Yoloka fetched a bowl and cloth, Mal removing her hand from Levant’s. Marcus was beginning to realise just how tired he really was, rubbing his brow. The blood made his skin slippery.
“You all right Marcus?” Mal asked.
“Fine, just tired. I haven’t properly rested since, well, thinking about it since we were on the Malian coast.”
Mal nodded. “Yeah, you don’t stop at all, take tomorrow off.”
Marcus laughed slightly. Yoloka came over and dumped a clean bowl with two cloths in it on the table. She picked up one, soaked in water and rubbed it down Marcus’’ face, taking him by surprise.
“Come on, wash your hands,” she ordered.
Marcus took the second cloth and started to rub the blood from his skin. He cleaned the wrist of his right arm, his hand held upwards. Levant saw the ring on his hand, and saw the same ring on Yoloka’s.
“What’s with the rings, you two married?” he asked curiously.
“What? What rings?” Mal demanded to know. “What’s going on?”
“Oh these, they’re just…,” Marcus started, suddenly feeling embarrassed at having to find an explanation.
“It’s because I’m so hopeless,” Yoloka stated, holding her ring with her left hand to display the crystal to Mal. “Marcus always needs to rescue me, so this takes half the hassle out. They tell him when I need rescuing, so he can come and save me. That way it takes less time for him and he can get back to doing proper work.”
She smiled at him.
“Did you give it her Marcus?” Levant asked, slightly curious.
“Well I…”
“Marcus! Are you blushing?” Mal piped up.
Even Zhuge Liang glanced over at the table as Mal’s voice filled the room, her shock evident.
“He’s not blushing,” Yoloka defended. “It’s just blood.”
She slapped the wet cloth onto his one clean cheek to hide his embarrassment, the other still covered in blood so as to make it impossible to tell. Marcus continued to clean his hands, hoping not to encourage Mal any further.
“Yeah, whatever Yoloka,” Mal said, unconvinced.