North vs. South

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"Two thousand and forty eight, my lord." The number rang like an annoying bell tower in his head. Two thousand and forty eight men. The losses were stifling and he thought for a moment that he might lose his stomach. It had taken the lieutenants all evening to count up the losses from their respective regiments, so he had been expecting heavy losses. But two thousand? He wondered what the toll to the northmen had been and if they had already regrouped on the other side of the forest.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as Amira walked into his council tent. Captain Barvin came in after her, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, my lord. I tried to stop her." Hadrian huffed with frustration and stood up. "I am holding council right now," he said sternly to his daughter. "You are not to disturb my tent at this time."
 
Amira stood her ground "Where is he? The wounded man? I want to check on him and make sure that he is being properly taken care of." She was very determined at that moment and everything about her screamed defiance. Not even the king's guards could stop her this time. The was her patient first and she would be the one that attended to him. She was also afraid that soldier's doctors would ignore him since he wasn't one of them.
 
The king stood up and glared at her. This was once his innocent little girl, and she still was to him. But royalty has a way of mentally empowering those who have it, and it was certainly noticeable in Amira. "You are trying my patience," he said both quietly and sternly. "I will tell you where he is, but after that you will not interrupt me during meetings, you will respect the captain and the other officers, and you will not disobey my commands or I shall have you sent back home tonight. Do you understand me?" His voice grew in volume with every word, and by the time he finished he was practically shouting the words.
 
Amira was taken back by her father yelling at her. As far as she could remember he had never shouted at her before. But she knew that she wasn't acting like herself. So she decided to calm down. "I will do as you say, father." she said in a even tone.
 
The king nodded forcibly. "Good then." He could not understand why she was so interested in this man. He was nothing more than a simple trader. Surely she did not think he would make her a proper suitor. But he did not want to upset her when he himself was no longer interested in hearing complaints. "He is being seen by Rodrel. The tent is at the southern end of the camp. His wounds are being treated as we speak." If worse came to worst, and she did indeed see this man as a lover, he would have no choice but to end it swiftly.
 
She curtsied to her father and exited silently. It didn't take her long to find the medic tent. She didn't really know Rodrel, but she was about to meet him for the first time. As she walked in the tent the smell of sickness and disease surrounded her. It brought back the horrid images of the battlefield and she thought she might hurl again. Every row of beds with wounded men looked the same to her. They all looked like they could be at death's door. Only a few men actually looked like they were in somewhat good health. Finally at the back of the tent she found a man who wasn't a soldier and assumed that he was the doctor. After a few words with him he lead her to Garris's bed. With a serious look on her face she walked over to his side.
 
Garris had been given some herbs that he wasn't very familiar with, but supposedly they were meant to help ease the pain. While they certainly did that, they also made his limbs feel excessively numb, so he really could not do much moving around. He smiled and waited for Rodrel to leave them before he spoke. "You certainly come from a lively bunch," he joked. "Thank you," he whispered on a more serious note. He was not sure how he would be able to repay her for her kindness. He knew he would have to tell her the truth about himself soon, but with so many southern soldiers around the risk was far too great.
 
While trying to remain serious she couldn't help give him a small smile. "I told you that I wouldn't let you die. How do you feel? Remember you started out as my patient and till you get better you're still my patient." She noticed the other soldiers staring at them, but she ignored them for now. She would go around to others and see how they were as well. She tried to make it a point to visit the soldiers whenever they got back from battle. But she never knew that it was this bad. She would see to it that the tent was aerated and that the men had the proper care given to them.
 
Had he been able to move his arms easily he probably would have reached for her hand then. Instead he simply smiled up at her. "I would have it no other way. But Rodrel might have a few things to say about that." He realized then that he had grown quite fond of her, and that was more dangerous than sitting in this enemy camp. He enjoyed her company, and from the way she spoke he could only assume that she enjoyed his. This would not do. As much as he would like to continue in this way, he could not. The dangers were too great.
 
Rolling her eyes she stood up to speak to Rodrel. She not only wanted to make sure that Garris was ok, but that her men, or her father's men, were taken proper care of too. "This tent needs some fresh air. And these men need fresh water." Because she was already stressed, she was trying to keep herself from shouting at the doctor. "These men are suffering from malnutrition and," she noticed that some of the men's bandages were old and completely leaking with their blood, "They are not being well taken care of!" Well she lost it and she didn't care.
 
Rodrel looked at her blankly."I understand your complaints, my lady," he said with a calm demeanor. "But I am one man, and there are many injured men here. If you think they need better care then feel free to grab some bandages and get to work." With that he went back to mixing whatever concoction he was about to give to the soldier in the bed he was standing next to.

Garris looked from the old man back to Amira. She seemed rather taken aback by his retaliation, so Garris said what he could to comfort her. "Go," he told her. "These men need as much help as I do. I will be fine, and you have brilliant hands for healing."
 
With one hand on her hip and the other rubbing her head she gave Garris a dejected look. "I hate war." She then began to roll up her sleeves, "All this fighting needs to come to an end. These men should be with their families. Not dying because we are short on nurses and doctors.." She walked over to the soldier closer to her and began to talk to him. She was gentle with her touch as often as she could be and she had the man talk about home. She did the same thing with every man she helped. It took several hours and one rejected invite to eat dinner with her father that she and the doctor had finally finished re-bandaging the men. They were also able to get some food, but not much since there wasn't much to go around. At least there was plenty of water to give them. Finally she went back over to Garris who also had new bandages and his own canteen of water. Even though the doctor had done a wonderful job she was still in her nursing state and began to examine him herself. "There has to be a way to stop this war." she said tiredly. Her head had beads of sweat and her hair was no longer in a neat bun, but falling around her face.
 
During the time in which Amira had gone to help the other men, Garris had much time to gather his thoughts. First, he was still not sure what he would do after he was fully healed. Would King Hadrian let him leave in peace? Would they bring him further south? Second, he was sure that everyone at home assumed he was dead. But that could work out to his advantage, for if his own allies thought him dead, then surely his enemies would believe the same for now. Lastly, he had time to think about whether or not to tell her his true identity. Rodrel was on the other side of the tent, and the man in the bed next to him was snoring away. This was an opportune moment, and he could not let it go t waste. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer, glad to be able to move properly again. Their faces were almost touching as he whispered to her, hesitating for a long time. "I must tell you this before it is too late." He glanced over at Rodrel before he continued. "I am not who I say I am. My name is not Garris. It is Willem... Prince Willem."
 
When he began to draw her in closer she didn't know what to expect. She didn't know what she wanted to happen. She could feel his breath as he began to talk and her heart began to beat faster. But it almost stopped when he told her that he was the prince of her enemy country. Slowly she sat up straight her eyes watching him disbelieving that he was who he said he was. Her words didn't come up smoothly "You're--the prince?" She didn't yell and she didn't alert anyone. "How? I mean--why would you lie to me?" She wasn't mad, but she didn't think she could handle this right now. "Why would you tell me this?"
 
He thought for a long time about how to phrase his answer. "For the same reason you did not tell me, and then for the same reason you did." His whisper was now so quiet that he almost had to lean upwards to make sure she heard him. He was not sure what else he could say. He knew he trusted her more than he had ever expected to, and he knew the feeling was mutual, or at least he hoped it still was. But he needed someone in this camp to know who he truly was should something go wrong. He would not let the prince of the Norther Kingdom's death go unnoticed. But that was only a worst case scenario. All he really needed was for someone to help him return north. "You are the only one here I can turn to for help. I must return home. My countrymen believe I am dead, and morale will fall among them. My father and my kingdom need my help."
 
Slowly she stood up, disbelief written all over her face, "I'm not sure if I can do this right now." She stood up and all but ran out of the tent. She wasn't mad just very confused. Turning him in was out of the question. But if her father found out about Willem, Willem would not have a happy ending. She paced around the camp to clear her head. Maybe she let her feelings for Garris, or Willem, get in her way and she should turn him in. It was her duty as the princess of the South. But her conscience wouldn't let her. She could not turn in this man even if he was the Prince of the kingdom that they were currently at war with. Maybe she could use this situation to help end the war. She returned to the prince's bedside. "I'm not going to turn you in. I had to think about this, but maybe we can help each other out." She spoke so only he could hear her. "I want to end this horrible war."
 
His heart sank when she darted out of the tent. Some of the men looked at him oddly, but they said nothing to him. Would she inform her father of who he was? Maybe he had been too quick to trust her. Surely this would be the end to his incomplete tale. However, when she returned there was no one else with her, though she still looked confused and was not smiling. He breathed a sigh of relief at her proposition. He was not at all sure how they would be able to end the war, though. Blood arrangements through marriage were common between wealthy families in the times before the two kingdoms split, but they had been rare since then. And he could not imagine either of the kings agreeing to it. "I was thinking the same thing. But I don't have the slightest clue of where to begin."
 
She shook her head, "I don't either, but at least we can start with me, the Princess of the South, and you, the Prince of the North. We are to inherit our father's kingdoms someday." She glanced around her at all the men who had been hurt by the pettiness of the past. But she couldn't speak freely here, "We must talk after you are able to walk again."
 
He nodded in agreement. Most of the men were fast asleep now, but he still did not want to leave something this important to chance. "Then we will speak later. I should be able to walk more easily tomorrow. We can make our plans then. For now get some rest, my lady. You have had a long day." He lifted her hand and kissed it. It was a sign of respect that most were familiar with, but he felt his face begin to flush anyway, which he had hoped would not show. He let go of her hand and said nothing other than, "I will see you in the morning."
 
When he kissed her hand she didn't blush. It was something she was used to in the courts and she knew that this man was indeed used to being a gentleman. She did see him blush and she tried to hide her smile. That's when she began to blush. Knowing that the others were watching more then they should, she quickly left before they talked about more then they already would. She arrived at her tent and laid down in her bed. It wasn't as comfortable as it normally would have been, but she was just glad that she had her own private space. Was this feeling that she was experiencing have anything to do with Willem? Sure, she didn't feel anything for him. Besides he probably only wanted to get home and forget about everything as soon as possible. She couldn't blame him. As she fell asleep she couldn't help but worry about the outcome of a friendship between her and Willem. Knowing who he was she had to be extra careful to not get him caught. If he got captured she would never forgive herself. When she woke up the next morning she found that most of the tents had been taken down so that they could travel back home. She was relieved that this battle was to be put behind them. She then went to find her father and then something to eat.
 
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