"I need to see the King."
The two guards looked back at Shanna. There was some confusion in their eyes, the uncertainty of having someone talk to you in a strange language. Understandable. Shanna felt she had worn that expression all morning, ever since waking to the sound of the entire camp slowly coming alive. On the guards, though, it was mixed with the certainty of only having to take orders from people that weren't her. They did not move from the entrance to James' tent.
Shanna tried to hold her temper. Tried not to glare. They were just doing their job. It was not their fault.
Whose fault was it?
This early in the morning, the next person to cross her path.
She stepped back, the guards responding by moving their spears, or pikes, whatever they were, from across the closed tent flap. What were her options? One, she could just wait. His royal highness would have to come out sometime. Two, she could yell for him. It was just a tent, after all. The guy WOULD hear her. That would probably not be the most diplomatic choice, breaking perhaps centuries of royal protocol. With her luck, waking the King was a hanging offense.
The tent flap moved. Option three: ambush the first person to come out.
A thin, pale hand lifted the heavy fabric, revealing the dark-haired girl Ewa. Her eyes widened. So did Shanna's. That boy king moved fast. The teen looked as disheveled as any woman would after an interesting night, hair unbraided and loose down her back. Ewa's expression, after a moment's shock, hardened. Shanna almost groaned in frustration. She was NOT going to compete with this girl for James. Had zero interest in James. Nor did she want to get on the girl's bad side. She needed friends. Or at least non-enemies. Letting out a sigh, Shanna smiled as best she could, motioning with her head back inside the tent, pushing her glasses back up as the movement slid them down her nose. Ewa stood there, considering. After just long enough to make Shanna nervous, the girl looked behind her.
"Wasza Milosc, twoja ciemnoskora towarzyszka jest tutaj."
"Tell her to come in," a sleepy voice said. "Have them bring us both breakfast in here."
"Wasza Milosc." Ewa turned back to Shanna, body language now friendlier, and maybe a bit embarrassed. Shanna nodded to her.
"Thank you, Ewa."
Ewa nodded her head a bit shyly. Shanna had been caught coming out of a guy's room by his sister, so understood. She stepped aside as the teen moved quickly past her. She turned her attention back to the guards.
"Excuse me."
****
James was sitting on a cot, shirtless but at least in some pants. A folding table was set up in front of him, large porcelain bowl causing the fabric top to sag. The King looked up at her, a washcloth in his left armpit.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
She caught movement to her left. Ewa's younger brother was going through a wooden chest, picking out a blue shirt and holding it up to examine it. Shanna blinked. The kid had been in here with the two of them? Maybe he had woken the pair. Oh, that had to be an embarrassing scene for all involved!
"Have a seat," James told her. Looking, she saw him motion to a desk chair nearby. She walked over, moving the chair out and sitting on it backwards, sweat pant clad legs straddling the back. The kid's eyes almost bugged out as he looked at her. James laughed. "That's not the most lady-like thing, you know."
"That's the problem. They brought me dresses to wear."
"So?"
She frowned.
"You can't ride in a dress."
"If you hike it up high enough." James held a hand up, laughing. "I know. Probably worse than going sidesaddle. You are a girl, you know."
"Not their kind."
"And we're not going to be introducing women's lib just quite yet. I don't know how things are here, but just getting 'rape is bad' culturally accepted may be the best we can do this generation."
Shanna nodded. Only a fool would not notice those looks, what they meant. She could defend herself, somewhat, but her self-defense teacher had told them that if a strong man wanted to rape you badly enough, he probably could unless you caught him off guard, or got lucky. And if they were trained soldiers? Submitting would be most women's best option.
"I can fight, somewhat. Have some training. Can you pass that along?"
"I'm passing the word that you're part of my royal party, naturally. Off limits."
"Thanks." A small wave of depression hit her. She was going to have to rely on him for everything. Protection. Communication. Hell, her clothing and food. She did NOT like that. What happened to the independence of college? Shanna did not like handouts.
"Maybe," James continued, handing his towel to Felek and accepting a clean shirt in return, "we can make you some kind of Amazon guard for me. Have some of the soldiers beef up your training."
She regarded him for a long moment as he slipped the tunic over his head. Having carried the water basin away, Felek returned to stand next to James, running a comb through his hair. She shook her head.
"No offense, but... SERVING you is not a goal I have."
"Anything you do here is going to do that, in some way. But I get your point."
The tent flap opened. Ruta entered, holding a silver tray, which she moved to place before James. Behind her a woman entered, middle-aged, with a wooden tray with wooden plates. Shanna saw her eyes become disapproving as they fell on the chair straddling teen. Marching over, the woman placed the tray of food on the desk behind her. Shanna smiled.
"Thank you."
The woman gave a slight smile, not a nice one. Turning to James, she bowed before leaving. Ruta stayed, standing next to Felek. Shanna had to grin. The two kids made a good couple.
"Dig in," James said, picking up a silver fork. "The kids can't eat until we finish, and the camp will break up soon."
"Gotcha." Standing, she sat back down facing the desk, and began to eat.
****
The slap to her bottom came as Shanna was adjusting the stirrups on her mount. They had given her a different saddle than the day before, although luckily the same horse. She froze as she felt the large male hand hit her left butt cheek, the sweat pants and panties offering little padding. She had expected this. Shanna had watched movies, after all. Even news reports from places like Egypt of women groped and raped at "peace" rallies kind of prepared her. Yet the actual fact of it left her stunned. Holding back the response she wanted to give, she turned her head.
Three soldiers had walked by her. They were strong. Well armed. Laughing. Picking a fight with them would be stupid, King's protection or no. And, well, while she hadn't been "asking for it", Shanna knew full well her ass looked damned good if she bent over in these pants. Compared to the other women, she was taunting these men.
Shanna had a brief mental image of her brown skinned body nude on the grass, surrounded by dozens of hunky male Polish soldiers. She shook it off. That was one of those fantasies that should so STAY a fantasy. The line between orgy and gang rape was probably nonexistent.
She looked around. Many men were giving her glances. Hard glances, full of promises that they could give what she wanted, or at least what they wanted her to want. Her eyes went again to the mode of dress of the other women packing the camp. Would wearing a dress be so bad?
"Dziewiecdziesiat dziewiec!"
One of the Winged Hussars she had rode among the previous day was shouting, seemingly at her. That wasn't her name, though, and they should know it. It wasn't like it was hard to pronounce. She turned back to her horse.
"Dziewiecdziesiat dziewiec!" Closer, this time. She turned, back to her mount. Three of them stood before her. Strong. Handsome. Condescending. Condescending armored angels, red and white feathered wings rising above their heads.
Oh, she so wanted to smack those smirks off their faces.
"My name," she said, sweetly, "is Shanna. Are you smart enough to remember that?"
The one in the middle, with a bushy black mustache, pointed at her chest, grinning.
"Dziewiecdziesiat dziewiec."
Dziewiec... oh. Maybe that meant ninety-nine, the number on her shirt. OK, that was funny. Not so funny was the man's still outstretched hand. One step forward, and he'd be copping a feel. She was NOT going to allow that. Could she grab his hand, bend back a finger? No. His free arm would probably club her in the head. Hand to hand combat was not an option.
Reaching behind her, Shanna slipped a knife from a sheath on her saddle.
They saw the movement. The arm dropped. Their expressions became... harder. Less gropey, more rapey, although still somewhat playful. It would be a playful rape. Smiling, she brought the knife up in front of her, a finger lightly testing its edge.
"I really, really hope you all don't think this is foreplay." Shanna considered throwing the knife between the one man's boots, but that would leave her without a knife. It would be movie showing off, not practical at all.
"I hope we're not interrupting anything."
At James' voice, the soldiers came to immediate attention, expressions the funniest "we did nothing" look she had seen not on a cat. Turning, she saw him approaching with what she supposed was now his support staff. The two guards from the tent were behind him, eyes even from this distance seeming to dance at the discomfort of the Hussars. Felek and the young girl Ruta walked beside Ewa, her long black hair again braided. That had to be hard to take care of. That gay secretary or whatever walked just behind them, with a few other men she guessed were HIS assistants. And, at the King's side...
The Lieutenant.
She almost lost herself in those blue eyes again. It wasn't that he had a Legolas look to him, although she had to admit there was a bit of that to his appearance. It was just the beauty of his face, the implied strength of the body under that armor. Did the uniform make the man, or the man the uniform? In his case, yes.
"Piotr," James said, eyes stern. "Perhaps you can remind your men how companions of mine are to be treated. In fact, I would be very disappointed to hear of ANY woman being treated badly while we march. There are many places soldiers who don't treat civilians well can be stationed to keep them away from temptation, are there not?"
The young blond soldier nodded.
"Zgadzam sie, Wasza Milosc."
"Good. Now, if you would deal with your men over there, then pass these instructions to the other commanders, we can get started. I can hear wagons starting on the road up ahead."
"Wasza Milosc." Piotr looked at Shanna, nodding. She nodded back, wishing she wore something a bit better, maybe a touch of makeup. Not much, just a little. She almost jumped as he yelled out a command, voice suddenly deep, powerful. As he passed, following his men, she let her shoulders sag.
"Thank you," she said, softly. He did not pause, but she saw his eyes widen. Piotr nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then was gone. Taking a deep breath, She looked at James.
"Fun morning."
"Yes. Ola, I honestly don't know what things are like in the army, but I want my commanders to know my feelings on this. I'd rather have ten soldiers flogged than one woman raped. Understood?"
The man said something, nodding, tossing in the expression they seemed to use to refer to James. She assumed it meant "Your Majesty" or something like that. James was looking at the man, considering.
"That's good to know. Still, the law, and how it's being applied, can be different things. Just see that I DO hear if anything like that is going on, so we can take steps that it no longer does."
"Tak, Wasza Milosc."
"Tak mans 'yes'?" Shanna looked at James. He laughed.
"I just heard you ask if 'yes means yes', so, yes, I think that's right."
Shanna made an obscene noise.
"Wonderful. So, you teaching me is out of the question."
"I think so. I doubt I'd be a good teacher anyway."
"Wasza Milosc." Ewa reached a hand over, touching James on the arm. The look on the face of the gay advisor at the obvious familiarity in that gesture was hilarious. "Moge ja nauczyc."
"Hm. That could work. Shanna, would you like Ewa to try and teach you? I'll help when needed, obviously."
Shanna looked at the younger teen. Was this a case of wanting to keep an eye on the dark stranger who knew her man? Or an offer of friendship? Or both? She nodded, turning to slip the dagger back into its sheath.
"Sounds good."
****
It did not take long for the motive of the young girl to become clear. She wanted to learn about James.
Walking beside her while they led the horses, and during most the rests, the girl with the sleeping or fussing baby peppered Shanna with questions, wanting to know the English word for everything. She provided the translation, naturally, but it was definitely a two-way learning process. Often with Shanna holding the kid (he was so cute!), Ewa would point to something, the next few minutes devolving into the two trying with varying degrees of success to learn, and then pronounce, the translation. Shanna's efforts led to much laughter from those around her, although it took a few hours for her mounted winged companions to feel comfortable laughing with their King and Lieutenant there. Piotr, through, laughed often. The Lieutenant would look over after some horrible attempt on Shanna's part, his grin seeming to take five years off his apparent age. Shanna wondered if she would be robbing the cradle as much as James was.
Well, when in Poland...
By late afternoon, Ewa was definitely a friend. They had almost developed a third language, part verbal, part expressions, but mostly hand movements. A subtle point of the finger at Ola, a roll of the eyes while slightly imitating that hand gesture he tended to use, and the two teens would break into giggles like schoolgirls. And she was picking up some of the language. Shanna had taken a couple years of Spanish, all of which was now forgotten, but she had never been that adept at it. Even in just these hours, though, she thought she had some of the basics down. At the very least, she could ask for food, water, help in general. She suspected some of the magic that was helping James could be at work here.
If so, it was about time.
****
"Shanna, help dinner?"
Shanna smiled at Ewa's broken English. She was a natural at language. Nodding to the girl, she replied in Polish.
"Yes."
The one word answer had the desired effect, laughter. Taking the as yet unnamed babe back from Shanna, the giggling Ewa led her over towards a cooking fire.
Shanna was observant. Ewa was not... accepted. There was a coldness about how the older women treated her. Smiles that were not smiles. They were not openly disrespectful, no. Given the girl's position with the King, that would not be wise. It could also be the source of the irritation. Ruta's mother, especially, seemed to bore hate into the back of Ewa's head while the teen's attention was elsewhere. Had she secretly hoped her ten year old would win the King's heart? Not out of the question. The rejected bride, though, was as sweet and nice as could be. When not helping with some minor chore, Ruta sat with both Ewa's charge and a one year old in her lap. She could even help stir a pot while so occupied.
Shanna helped where she could, cutting, slicing. She didn't know the dishes, didn't recognize a number of the vegetables. The looks she noticed out of the corner of her eye mirrored those directed at Ewa.
So be it.
James, she saw, was across the camp with a number of well dressed men. The Captain was at his side. Where this man, who seemed to be the power behind the figurehead, spent most of the day was a mystery to her. Maybe checking the troops, maybe planning. Important stuff, she was sure. It did remind her, though, that for all James was the King, all he had seen of this mobile nation was this small wagon circle. For all they knew, nothing else actually existed.
****
"Shanna?"
She looked up, the large pot of stew for the non-royal masses boiling away on the fire. Felek stood there, face serious in the firelight.
"Idz za mna."
Shanna focused on those words. 'Mne' was 'me', and 'idz za' was... a form of 'follow'? So, 'follow me'. Her eyes widened. She had done it!
Ewa reached over, touching her bare arm.
"Follow Felek."
"I know that! Jesus!" Growling playfully, she rose. Following Felek, as ordered, she wound her way through the camp. Dinner was being served everywhere. James' meal was being plated, as was hers. She had expected to carry hers into his tent with Ruta. Now, though, it looked like a slight change of plans.
James sat with the Winged Hussars. Even with their armor off, Shanna recognized them. Especially Piotr. She had been correct: under that armor, his slender body was incredibly muscular. She could feel a blush coming on as James noticed her, waved her over.
"Good. Felek, bring both our meals here. Shanna, sit." She saw a seat to his right. Piotr sat to his left. Good. If she was right next to the hunk, who knew what she'd do.
"So, what's going on? Why are you slumming with these winged freaks?" Shanna smiled as she said it. That was one good thing about the language situation, you could say anything in front of these people.
"I have a proposition for you." James nodded towards Piotr. "The Lieutenant here, commander of my mobile escort, has observed you riding for the past two days. Has noticed your attitude, strength. I've told him you've had some weapons training, although not with the weapons used here."
Shanna began to feel cold.
"What would you say," he went on, "to training with Piotr here? In the morning, and once we make camp for the evening. See what you know, what he can teach you. I'm having some men's outfits fitted for you, they'll take your measurements after dinner. How about it?"
She looked down in her lap. She had loved playing with those live action role-players. Banging swords around. Sparring. Her body had felt alive. To... to do that for real. With real soldiers. And she'd be able to defend herself. Nobody would mess with her. She'd be one of them.
And she'd be with HIM!
"Sure," she said, looking up directly into Piotr's blue eyes. "I'd love to."