“Then perhaps I shouldn’t ‘conscript’ your time any longer.” He put an ugly turn on the word conscript, nearly sneering.
“Clark,” Shea said.
He didn’t give her a chance to apologize, springing to his feet and walking away before she got more than his name out.
“Shane-“
“I know,” she snapped, interrupting Eamon. “I shouldn’t have said it. He just pushed on a nerve, is all.”
She turned the pages in her book, not really noticing the words. She hated when she lost her temper and said stupid shit like that. Saying mean stuff just to hurt people wasn’t her way.
“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Buck said, tossing his towel on the branch next to Eamon’s. “He’s pretty forgiving. Just apologize and that’ll be that.”
Shea grimaced. She hated apologizing.
Eamon smiled at the expression. “He’s a good kid. Comes on a little strong sometimes, but has a good heart, which is impressive given his background.”
Shea felt a bit of interest perk up at those words. “Oh.”
Buck chimed in from where he had pulled out a mirror and started lathering his face. “He’s an orphan. His parents died when he was a toddler. The clan raised him after that. He has a tendency to collect big brothers. He’s probably overjoyed you joined up. Until now, he was the youngest in this division. No doubt he’s hoping to be the one imparting knowledge and wisdom this time.”
He was still the youngest, but they didn’t know that.
Now she felt doubly bad about being so short with him. It was like kicking a puppy. You could do it, but man did it make you feel about an inch high afterwards.
“Craaap,” Shea breathed, snapping the book shut and rising.
Seeing the answering grins peeking out of the lather both men now had on their faces, Shea couldn’t resist a bit of payback. “I hope you three took a piss when you got out of the water.”
“Huh?”
“You know there are little fishes that will swim up your pisser and lay eggs. Only way to get that out is to take a piss right after getting out. Forces them back out.”
Buck shot a wide eyed glance at Eamon, “He’s kidding, right?”
Shea hid her grin as she headed after Clark.
“You’re kidding, right?” Buck shouted after her.
“Am I? Guess you’re about to find out,” she shouted back.
“Son of a–“
Shea chortled when both men stopped what they were doing to find the nearest bush.
Sometimes revenge was oh so sweet. It never paid to mess with a pathfinder.
Later that night, Shea picked her way through the forest by the light of a moon that had already passed its zenith when she slipped away from camp. Lucky for her it was two thirds full or else it would have been difficult to navigate without the benefit of a torch, which was off limits since the whole point of going at night was to avoid notice.
She headed for the pool she had scouted that afternoon above the falls. Although it was late, that was no guarantee somebody else hadn’t decided on a midnight swim.
This was the best way she knew to minimize the risk of exposure while still reaping the benefits of getting clean.
Soon, she was standing before the softly rushing water. The pool she found was really just an eddy of the larger stream and was the result of a small rock outcropping jutting into the water and causing a lazy back current. The water moved slowly enough that she wasn’t in much danger of being swept downstream and over the waterfall as long as she didn’t step into the middle of the stream.
It was shallower than she’d like. She’d have to kneel and hunch over for the water to reach her shoulders. Beggars couldn’t be choosers though, and she was happy just for a chance to get clean again.
Being constantly on the move and away from the benefits of civilization made water a luxury that took a far greater willpower than hers to pass up.
She carefully checked the area before disrobing and laying her clothes on the rocks above her bathing area. The night air swept goose bumps up and down the bare skin of her stomach and legs. She shivered and walked into the water.
Cold. So cold.
Argh, if only she’d been able to sneak away earlier when the sun had been up to lend its warmth. She nearly vibrated in place in an effort to get warm. Not wanting to prolong the experience she fumbled for her soap. She quickly sluiced water all over before building up a nice lather and rinsing it away. Her hair, she left alone, not wanting the gunk keeping her hair dark to wash away.
Not willing to linger longer than she had to, Shea was done washing within minutes of stepping into the water. Years of hurried baths with men steps away had given her an ability to be quick about her business.
Voices came from below just as she stepped out and was reaching for the small towel she’d brought.
Her first instinct was to freeze in place. Pressing the towel to her, she surveyed the night. With the moon up, the scene was a monochromatic wash of greys and shadows, making it easy to see general forms but not distinct details.
No shadowy figures waited there in the dark that she could see. They could be just beyond the tree line, but she doubted it. The voice sounded like it was coming from below.
Wrapping the towel around her, she crept over the damp rock towards a slight drop off next to the falls and peered down.
A muffled curse escaped, and she flattened herself against the rock face as she ducked back out of site.
Of all the rotten luck.
She dared another glance over the edge.
The scene hadn’t changed since her last look. A torch was stuck in one of the crevasses near the pool, highlighting the surrounding area. That wasn’t what nearly sent her over the small drop.
No. The sight of Fallon disrobing did that.
Shea knew she should head back to her clothes and dress. Now that she had solved the mystery, there was no reason to linger, but she did. Oh, how she did.
Some irresistible force held her in place as Fallon first discarded his shirt then his pants, leaving him standing in nothing but the skin he was born with. And what a fine skin it was.
Sharp ridges defined every muscle in his body. Even the raw white and red marks from scars crossing his torso did nothing to detract from the fine specimen of manhood before her.
The male bodies she’d seen that afternoon in no way compared.
Fallon stepped into the pool, the cold not seeming to have the same effect on him as it had on Shea. He sunk down, dunking his head and then sluicing the water off his face.
A pleasant voice rang in the air as he sung a bawdry tale about the woes of a Trateri warrior kidnapping his Lowland wife only to find out that the “wife” was actually a male with all of the accompanying parts.
Shea snickered at the risqué lyrics. Typical Trateri view of Lowlanders.
Another voice joined Fallon’s as he sang the last chorus again. Shea had been so focused on Fallon that she hadn’t even noticed when Caden stepped onto the rocks bordering the pool.
Shea hugged the ground harder, not wanting to chance being seen. She’d only ever seen the second man from a distance, but Eamon had told her enough for her to know that she did not want him to see her spying.
On that note, it was really past time she leave.
Shea scooted back from the edge, careful not to make any noise that would alert the two below. She made her way back to her clothes and dressed quickly.