Centaur Mistress

(This is a story we've been writing via email and chat. Please enjoy reading it, and we'd both love to hear your feedback. I'll be posting the story in increments, as it has developed well into the story, and continues still. The first post before the picture is written by my beautiful and wonderful partner, Sasha.)

Centaur Mistress

The dirty white tents stood in a random arrangement in the small clearing. Fires were lit and the sound of clashing swords filled the air, mixed with the chill fall wind coming from the north. Wrapped in a brown fur mantle and wearing worn leather boots, Keleth moved into the pines on the edge of the clearing and hesitated.

Keleth, standing only a hair taller than most children, shook as she got her first glimpses of the stately women she could now be company to: the flash of armor, the flowing chestnut hair and the flanks of a horse, before the clash of swords again. Keleth wished she’d had a choice to come to this place, but her servitude was decided by her mother, who wanted her out of the house, and also by bringing a flow of coin into her parent’s pockets. The young woman would never see any of the gold herself. Her livelihood in the place would be provided by the camp cook and her new Mistress.

With a breath and forced courage, Keleth approached the entrance to the camp, toward two guards, standing ten feet tall, holding spears. The centaur on the right had a black horse’s body, and pale human skin covered by leather, with long, black hair in a braid. The centaur on the left had a grey horses body with creamy skin also covered in leather. They both stayed still but eyed her closely, pointing their spears.

Keleth trembled as she approached, holding out her papers for them to inspect. A nod, and withdrawal of spears in silence told her she could go through, and the centaur with black hair pointed towards a tent on the west side of the encampment. Keleth stayed close to the surrounding ring of tents, away from the sparring warriors, and prayed that none would approach her.

Each warrior's tent was dirty white, but the flap was marked in specific colors to represent the standing and skills of the warrior. She knew which to look for, so couldn't mistake the tent, which seemed set apart slightly, away from the others. This centaur was not the general, so the isolation was unusual, but that was not for Keleth to understand. Her fingers checked to make sure her hair was in place, long auburn hair in a delicate braid, and tried to make her trembling go away. It would not do to show such fear in front of her new Mistress.

Keleth's training for her servitude in the last several months had involved learning how to care for wounds, how to clean properly for a centaur, to do some cooking, how to tend fires, clean weapons, and tend to all the centaur's personal needs. This group of centaurs had been entrenched in the northern area for weeks, and had suffered some losses against some wild men who kept coming down from the mountains. The girl who tended Keleth's new Mistress was taken in the night, when getting wood for the tent's fire, and hadn't been seen again.

Before Keleth could announce herself, the tent flap opened. The tent itself was about 12 feet tall and looked like a small cottage, making Keleth feel even smaller than she truly was. She took a step back as the shadow of her Mistress appeared, framed by firelight behind the tall figure.

****************




Brighid pulled deeply from the wineskin, the bladder quickly depleting its contents and soon to join the other three tossed carelessly on the floor. She hoped the vintage would blunt the memories, but nothing could take them away. They would always be there when she closed her eyes, she thought. Her head was swimming, and her vision quivered at the edges.

She laughed at the sensation, but it came out harsh and bitter, an exclamation forced from a ragged gust of breath.

She denied it was a sob. She could do that, as long as the wine supply held out. And if not wine, then perhaps she could make a late night raid on the human village for cider or something else. Despite her love of grain porridge to eat, she didn’t care for its taste when brewed into alcohol. Tonight she might make an exception if those visions returned.

She wrinkled her nose at the smell permeating the tent. It must have been pretty bad if she noticed it, her own smell, Brighid thought. She needed a keeper. 'Attendant', they liked to be called, but she knew how they really felt about the duty. To them, she was barely more than an animal. The king might as well have sent stable boys to care for her and her Sisters. And in fact, that had been how it used to be, until one of the boys got caught fucking his Mistress. That would have been a sight, she thought with a snort. It hadn’t been so pleasant for her shamed Sister though. She was ridiculed right out of camp.

After all, what could a human lad have been packing to offer a centaur mare? She probably barely felt anything, Brighid imagined. But she supposed that sort of thing was more common than anyone let on. Even some of those who ridiculed the most were probably guilty of seeking the same distractions to escape the horrors of battle day after day. And it’s not like there were any stallions around. The war had ground on too long for that. Their menfolk had been among the first cavalry units to be formed. Those left now were either too old, too young, or too crippled with battle wounds to fight now.

And that is how the happy accident was discovered. Turns out the female centaurs were better at unit tactics, more effective as a cavalry troop than the males, who often would lose themselves in a sort of battle lust that made them take too many chances individually. They tended to be closer to each other too, less prone to fighting among themselves. That promoted better unit cohesiveness. The mares fought together, lived together, they stuck together.

All but Brighid. She’d heard some of the whispered rumors when she passed. 'She’s fought too long', they said. 'She’s not stable.' 'She’s a danger to herself and maybe others too.' They think I should be put out to pasture, Brighid thought, then laughed at her own pun. Still, the Northmen were tough and persistent raiders, and the casualties were still mounting. Like it or not, they still needed her. There weren’t many with her experience, and fewer still with her nerve.

Brighid glanced back at her flank where the recent arrow wound still bled through the crude bindings she’d managed. She hadn’t reported it to her captain. She’d received it not in battle, not directly anyhow, and so it would be hard to explain, and would probably result in disciplinary action. Just what she needed on top of everything else, she thought. She pulled another long draught from the skin, shivering, her hide on her flank twitching with the movement, making the wound hurt a little more. The twitch also disturbed the flies that were trying to get at the wounded flesh. Angrily she switched her tail around to swat at them, but as always, they were too fast to flee.

She really needed a new keeper, she thought.

The last one, Cassandra, had been a good one. She knew her place and was quiet. She didn’t complain about the drinking; she just let a centaur be, Brighid thought. She snorted again, a derisive sound, but aimed at herself. ‘Funny how I remember her name now…..now that it’s too late.’ The pain came again, not from the wound in her side, but from the memories at what she’d seen. Cassandra. The girl hadn’t deserved what they’d done to her. Brighid closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought.

She must have dozed a little. She awoke with a start, her senses fully on alert in that strange way that they seemed to tune out the normal sounds of the camp and focus on the different, the new, anything that could signal a threat. She surged to her feet, staggering slightly, and reached for her spear. It took her two tries to get it. ‘That’s the pointy end. Make sure you direct that end at the enemy, Brighid.’ she muttered to herself. She clomped heavily to the tent flap, ready to vent her upset at whoever it was who’d come to bother her in her self imposed misery.

Flipping back the flap, she stopped in her tracks, staring bleary eyed at the diminutive human girl staring wide eyed up at her. The smell of stale wine and sour equine sweat rolled out of the tent with Brighid’s appearance at the opening. She just looked at the other for a long time before Brighid snorted derisively, looking past the little one. “Well? Where’s the rest of you?” she slurred.

(This part of the story is mixed, with some paragraphs written by Sasha, then alternated by me. Mostly it's in the point of view of each character, but edited together to form more of a narrative.)

The shock of seeing such an unkempt warrior was much more than the shock of the size of Keleth's new Mistress. The scent of stale drink, stale sweat, and stale horse hit Keleth's nostrils hard, but she had been trained with far worse smells and didn't visibly react. There was something else in the air, but Keleth couldn't tell what it was. It was obvious that Mistress Brighid hadn't handled herself well since her last attendant has been taken away. Keleth was grateful that her small leather pack was filled with soap, oils and dried herbs that would help with the scent inside her new dwelling. She would be living at all times with the centaur and wouldn't allow herself to live in squalor.

"Mistress Brighid, my name is Keleth and I'm glad to be your new attendant. If you will allow me, I will start my duties right away, and I will arrange my small place in your dwelling. I can tell you about myself once I've begun to work."

Brighid leaned to one side, slightly, like a ship listing on the ocean. It could have been attributed to her drinking, but she did it to ease the strain in her flank, her wound beginning to pain her again now that the effect of the alcohol was blunted. She wasn't sure what to say to the girl they'd sent her. She needed a keeper, but this one seemed a pretty unlikely choice. Brighid doubted the girl could even reach high enough to properly brush her back and mane.

Keleth waited for the centaur to acknowledge her, but the centaur swayed slightly and the movement mixed with the scent of ale told Keleth that her Mistress was drunk. Keleth sighed, and reached up, and grasping Brighid's much larger hand, attempted to lead the mare back inside. It was a lot easier than Keleth expected, probably due to Brighid's inebriation. When the tent flap was closed, Keleth turned around, and understood the nature of the strange smell. Blood. There was a wound on Brighid's flank that hadn't been treated properly, and Keleth knew at once that it must be festering. Keleth dropped her fur mantle, revealing a wool skirt that was muddied at the bottom, a white linen blouse with a leather corset over it.

Brighid followed the girl inside. It was no use being difficult, and it was too cold out here to argue. Maybe she was a little feverish, or maybe it was the wine's effect. Or maybe she actually missed the attentions of a good attendant. But for whatever reason, she didn't protest or resist. Truth be told, she was taken a bit by surprise when the little human girl quietly took her hand and led her in that confidant, assured manner. She wanted to see just what the girl would do.

Opening her pack, Keleth took out fresh wrapping, part of the supplies given to her, along with healing herbs and managed to find a pitcher of fresh water. All else could wait, including anything Brighid had to say.

Brighid watched the preparations skeptically. The girl seemed to know what she was doing, or at least pretended to know well enough to be convincing. But she seemed so young, perhaps because of her height. How much could she really know? Nervousness made Brighid snide and snippy. She slurred, "Since when has the king decided to send dwarves instead of maidens to attend us, Girl? Shouldn't you have a half-dozen friends with you?"

But Keleth didn't seem to let the remark phase her, as before. Brighid cleared her throat nervously. The sound came out as a low whicker.

"Stay still, Mistress, I will clean your wound. Do not worry; I've been trained to deal with such wounds." Keleth began to cut through the old wrapping and this time did wrinkle her nose. As the wrapping began to peel away from Brighid's flank, the crusted blood caused the cloth to stick to the scabbed wound.

Brighid's hide twitched as she flinched in pain when the scab pulled loose with the wrapping, opening the wound to bleed again. The sudden sharp pain made her kick out, her rear hoof hitting her armor stand, knocking it over with a loud clatter.

Brighid cursed, turning an angry, bleary eyed glare on the small figure standing with arms stretched up to reach her. "That hurt! You can't even see what you're doing!"

Keleth fumed a bit at the rebuke, but was determined not to give into intimidation. Her new Mistress needed her help and she would not be cowed by harsh words from a drunken centaur. "Well then why don't you kneel down, Mistress, so I can tend to you properly?"

Brighid retorted in a surly tone, "Why don't you find something to stand on, dwarf?"

"Because your people don't exactly have a lot of ladders around!" Keleth replied in a low, calm tone, in counterpoint to the shrill sarcasm of her Mistress' words, still refusing to be baited by the name calling.

Brighid glared at her in sullen silence, and Keleth met her gaze, refusing to be turned from her duties. Slowly the implications of the retort sunk in, and Brighid's harsh stern look began to crack as the humor of the words occurred to her. Her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, and her lips barely turned up. She liked this one's sand, she decided. With a snort, she gingerly knelt on her forelocks, lowering her body so that Keleth could reach her wound more easily.

The wound was in bad shape, swollen red, dirty and infected. It needed to be cleaned first, and then cauterized.

"Mistress, I have to clean and cauterize this wound. Please stay still." Keleth wondered if Brighid was used to such simple orders, but now was not a time to be shy. She took out her small dagger and placed the blade in the fire. Getting a nearby bucket, Keleth poured water over the wound and let the dirty liquid collect in the bucket. After several more washes, Keleth got the hot blade, singed her own fingers slightly, then after steeling herself, she pressed the flat of the blade to the wound.

Brighid tensed at the searing touch, and made a noise of pain, not really a whinny, more like a squeal or shriek mixed together. It was more equine than human, but unlike anything Keleth had heard before. Her flesh quivered, muscles trembling with the pain. She turned to look back at her new attendant, but her eyes held no anger or reproach. The girl was only doing what had to be done. Cassandra might have done the same, but she had always been a meek girl, gentle and shy. This one was different; at least she seemed so up to this point.

Comparisons to Cassandra brought back the memories of the sight of her body, abused and bloody, tortured to a cruel end. Brighid would never forget the sight, she realized as she looked around for another wineskin. Finding none, she sighed deeply, the sound coming out of her humanoid throat as a low shuddering moan. She hung her head, letting tears spill over her long lashes and drip on her withers. There was nothing she could ever do for Cassandra now. Brighid's tearful eyes settled on the diminutive girl applying the fresh bandage as gently as possible. She wasn't Cassandra, but maybe what happened once didn't have to happen again. It could be different this time. Brighid just needed the nerve to do things differently. And it begins now, she thought.

In a subdued voice she asked, "What.....Girl, what are you called again?"

(Sasha)

"Keleth, Mistress. My name is Keleth."

Keleth spoke with a quiet, even voice. When she looked up from the fresh dressing, she was shocked to see large tears falling down the mare's cheeks. She was a little curious about them, but she had more pressing matters right now. Brighid was in a sorry state, and perhaps after taking care of Brighid's personal needs, she would feel comfortable enough to listen to Brighid's emotional needs. The dressing was now in place, and the cauterization staunched most of the bleeding.

"Mistress, if you tell me where I can get water, I will give you a full bath right away. You should look your best in front of your troop. You can eat or sleep while I do it, if you wish. I have some herb given to me by my mother that will allow for a dreamless sleep, and I promise to wake you up in the morning for reveille." Keleth had been instructed in the schedules and ways of the centaur units, and had taken them as her own. She woke early, was very efficient, and planned her meals around the same times. If she was going to make a good impression in front of Brighid and the troop at large, she had to get Brighid ready for the next day.

A slurred response from Brighid told her that there were buckets outside the tent and a fresh spring a short walk away. Keleth went without a word to get the buckets, but as she stood in the tent flap, Brighid made to get up, wobbling and falling back down. Brighid was suddenly angry, with more tears flowing, and Keleth was unnerved by it. The words Brighid spoke were almost intelligible, but Keleth understood "safe", "protect", and "Cassandra".

"Mistress, I won't be long, and I will be careful. Please just rest there." Keleth used a softer voice than she had before, if only to pacify Brighid and keep her in place. A drunk, filthy centaur in a stinking tent was not what Keleth expected. At the back of the tent she found three buckets and carried them down the short slope towards the sound of trickling water. She found the stream, and filled the buckets quickly, keeping her eyes roaming among the trees. She could still hear the sound of the camp, but muffled. She also heard the sound of small animals like rabbits and squirrels.

As Keleth grasped the three buckets a little awkwardly, she saw on the ground in the trees, the evidence of human tracks. Not the small prints of female humans, but larger, of men. She hurried back, slightly scared, and she sloshed a bit of water as she scurried into the tent. Brighid still looked upset, but Keleth disregarded it. Water was needed, so she got it. The fear was from being taken away. She had been taken away from her parents; or rather they "gave" her away to be trained. While never so attached to her parents, she loved her family, and it hurt dearly to have no one. She pushed down that feeling for the sake of her duty.

"I have soap in my pack. I'll start by removing the braids in your hair and washing it. I promise to put the braids back when I'm finished. They do become you." Keleth paused and removed her leather corset and outer skirt, leaving her linen blouse and skirt. Better to get them dirty, since they were more easily washed. This gave Brighid a better view of Keleth's physique. Despite her short stature, she was well built, with strong arms and legs and a nearly hourglass shape. Keleth retrieved the soap, a large bar with a woody scent, more appropriate for a strong mare, and pulled up her sleeves. This would be a big task, not just for the size of Brighid, but because of the matted hair, generous mud and blood, and the strong scent of sweat. She dropped the bar of soap into one of the buckets, and poured the other two into the cauldron to heat.

Knowing that it would be near suicide to try and sit on the back of the centaur to do this work, Keleth pulled a small stool from the corner and stood on it, getting her hands high enough to slowly remove the braids of Brighid’s hair. Keleth sighed. This would be a monumental task, but she was up to it. She was aware, with a little smile, that under the dirt and blood that Brighid was beautiful and strong, the image of the glorious centaur warrior. She just needed help to bring it back out.

Brighid liked the way this one spoke to her, always soothing, low tones. It spoke well for the girl that she didn't lose her temper easily. And Brighid was just sober enough to realize that she'd tried hard to rile the little human. Was she testing her, or trying to alienate her, perhaps not let her get close enough to feel hurt if anything happened to her like with Cassandra?

Dimly she heard the girl's name. Keleth. Brighid knew better than to try to pronounce it in her state. She hoped she'd remember it for later. If not, she supposed the girl would, and she'd just ask her again. Brighid was asked about where to find water, and she replied without fully realizing the implications of the words. When they finally sunk in, and she realized that the girl intended to go out, Brighid tried to struggle to her feet. Her wound still hurt, but it wasn't the reason she could not gain her feet. She'd had too much to drink. And now Cassandra would be taken again. Like before. Brighid tried again to rise, even though the girl had left the tent already. If she could gain her feet, she might be able to follow, and yet be in time.

But she couldn't. Her wound erupted in fiery pain when she tried to stand, and she sank back down, dizziness overcoming her. She'd failed. Again. Failed Cassandra, and now, failed the little one.

She must have drowsed, she thought, or passed out. The next thing she knew was a cold draft as the tent flap opened and the half pint struggled in with nearly full buckets of water, some of it sloshing out to dampen the tent floor. Brighid shivered with barely contained relief. She was back, the girl was safe. Had she dreamt it all? Cassandra was alive and safe? Brighid heard her speak of bathing her, and washing her hair. She thought her hearing was affected by the drink. Cassandra's voice wasn't the same. But it was that soothing, even tone. Brighid liked it.

Through bleary eyes she tried to focus on the small form as she removed her outer garments. Brighid didn't know why the humans wore so many coverings. And it still seemed they were always cold. It was that chill that had sent Cassandra out for more wood for the fire, and....

Brighid cried out, coming awake again suddenly. She grabbed for the girl standing on the stool next to her withers, catching her roughly by the arm and pulling her down in front of her. Teary eyed, she sobbed, "Don't ever go out by yourself again! Cassandra! It's dangerous out there! I can't protect you if you're alone!" Brighid shook the girl in her angst to get through to her, oblivious to the little one's struggles to break free of the strong grip.

There was something wrong though. This one was too small. Not Cassandra. Cassandra was dead.

Gradually, Brighid began to realize her mistake, blinking in confusion through the tears that once again blinded her. She stared in shock at the small woman in her grip. "Cassandra? You're not...." She let go, hanging her head in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. If I hurt you, girl, I didn't mean to. I was.....I am confused, I think. Who are you again?"

(Sasha)

Cassandra again. The name had some emotional meaning for Brighid, perhaps from the previous attendant, and that girl must have been taken away, brutalized. Keleth shivered, and not from the cold. Suddenly, Keleth was dragged to the floor in front of Brighid and was being held tightly. The look in Brighid's eyes was manic, panicked and frightened. Keleth shook, her hair flying and she became very dizzy. Slurred words, a moment, then Keleth was released and she rubbed her arms where the mare had gripped them. She could tell there would be bruises. Her insides were cold and twisted with fear. The suspicions she had about the tracks in the wood by the stream were confirmed. She had to be careful.

"Mistress, my name is Keleth, and if it will keep you calm, I promise not to go out alone to get water and firewood. If you are out with the other centaurs, I will wait for you to gather anything. If you wish it, I can get one of the other attendants or one of the guards to go with me." The manic look hadn't left Brighid's eyes yet, despite the change in the mare's voice. Keleth reached up her tiny hand and placed it gently on Brighid's neck.

"You must have cared for Cassandra, and I'm guessing something bad happened to her. It couldn't have been your fault, Mistress. Even so, I won't put myself in danger, as much as possible. You should worry about battle and not me." She pulled her hand back, then still facing Brighid; she started to undo the braids that hung down.

"Mistress, you are drunk right now, so I can understand your emotion and grabbing me like that. Please don't do that again. I'm here to help you. I may be your attendant, but if I feel like I'm being mistreated, I will ask for another Mistress. You seem like a caring centaur, so I'll forget you grabbing me like that. I'm small, but I'm strong, and I won't take anything from anyone, you'll see." Her voice never rose. She was stating facts, not chastising her Mistress.

Some of the braids were hard to remove, due to the knots and dirty tangles, but after 15 minutes of hard work, Keleth managed it. Even without her horse half, Brighid would have made a tall, formidable woman. Without asking, Keleth removed the leather halter vest that Brighid wore, revealing Brighid's bare chest. She had perfectly formed breasts, no doubt kept that way through battle and vigor. The breasts seemed so large, but that was because Brighid's torso was large to match. Once again, Keleth went up on the stool, this time with a bucket of water and the soap and started to wash Brighid's hair.

"Mistress, when you sober up, we can talk more in detail, but for right now, just try to relax and let it pass. I'm here to take care of you." Keleth, felt Brighid's head bow just a little, and knew she should finish bathing her head, arms, and torso quickly so that Brighid could rest properly. The rest of the wash, at least most of it could be done with Brighid asleep. Keleth poured much of the bucket of water over the mare's head to rinse her hair, then used the dripping water to quickly wash Brighid's shoulder and arms, then lifted them to wash under.

As Keleth washed Brighid, she began to sweat. Her clean blouse and skirt became wet and muddy. She herself would need a bath, but that would have to wait until Brighid recovered and was willing to escort her out of the tent.

That soothing voice again - so calm - reassured her that the girl would not go out alone. The assurances as well as the tone calmed Brighid a little, enough to try repeating the girl's name. Keleth. It wasn't a hard name, but in her state, it came out as 'Kelett', then she tried again, 'Kelesh'.

Shaking her head, aware enough to realize that her alcohol thickened tongue was butchering each attempt, Brighid was about to apologize for grabbing the girl so hard when the little woman placed a calming hand on her neck. Her words lost with the touch, Brighid could only nod agreement with what the girl said.

As she nodded, she turned her face toward the gentle hand, craving more of that soothing contact, those calmly spoken words. Her nerves were settling, and she didn't object when the girl reached for her braids. Brighid knew she was a mess. She'd let herself go in recent days, not caring anymore. After what happened to Cassandra, all she cared about was killing the Northmen for revenge. She wasn't even fighting for the kingdom anymore. The king could go hang for all she cared. Any regent who hired another race to do his fighting for him to save his country didn't really deserve to keep it, she thought. But killing those northern barbarians was reason enough to stay and fight for Brighid. She cared about little else now.

As a result, her hair hung lank and limp, stringy and tangled. Some of her braids had already begun to come apart, leaving frizzed stray tendrils flying everywhere. Brighid wore her hair in braids to keep it under control in battle, but apart from the vengeance she exacted on the one's she'd found with Cassandra's body, she hadn't been in battle in a few days. Her state of dishevelment belied her relative inactivity.

Brighid started back to awareness when the little one removed her leather halter, freeing her breasts. Normally in camp she would allow herself to relax, going bare and free. But lately, she'd felt the need to be ready for battle all the time. No, not battle. Fighting. There was a difference now.

Even her peers were starting to talk about her, claiming she was dangerous, taking too many risks. Some said she was more like a stallion than a mare, reckless and headstrong. Some said even darker things about her. 'She has a death wish', they whispered when she passed, believing she couldn't hear them. It was only a matter of time before they would refuse to form up in battle ranks with her at their side. She didn't care. It would just mean more of the enemy for her to kill without interference from others.

The girl's fingers massaged her scalp gently but thoroughly. Brighid closed her eyes and lowered her head slightly, offering the girl more of her head to reach. It was soothing, and Brighid let out a low whickering sound of pleasure. From her humanoid throat, it came out as a 'huh-huh-huh-huh' expulsion of breath. The sudden cascade of water over her head and torso revived her somewhat, and her eyes opened as she sputtered a little of the water from her lips. For the first time since Keleth had arrived, Brighid's eyes were a little brighter, clearer.

She watched the little human woman as she expertly went about washing her. Keleth was dutiful and well trained, Brighid noted. Her hands moved over Brighid's skin, the slight massaging feeling helping to ease her nerves again. Keleth encouraged her to rest, relax, and sleep. And that calming tone made it easy to do. Brighid could feel herself drifting off again, lulled into passivity by the heat from the fire and the soothing tones of her keeper....'attendant' she mentally corrected herself. Keleth.

Brighid stirred once more, barely awake now, the alcohol taking its inevitable toll. "Don't go out alone, remember. Wake me first."

The mare, her speech slowly becoming steady, seemed to relax as Keleth continue the slow, careful wash. Keleth wasn't sure if there would be enough water for Brighid's entire body, but she could at least clean her human torso. As it was Keleth's first time around a centaur mare, she marveled slightly at how quickly the soft, pink human skin gave way to the more coarse, chestnut horse hair.

Brighid seemed to be dozing as Keleth lifted Brighid's right arm to wash it and wash underneath, then moved around to the other side to wash the left arm. Keleth's muscles were already getting tired with the effort, but she knew that Brighid would feel much better even partly cleansed. There was still some daylight left. Keleth decided to wake the mare if more water was necessary.

Keleth lifted her own arm to rub the sweat from her brow, breathing a little heavily. She was nearly finished, only a few inches from the border of horse hair. She was nearly out of water, but used the last to wash and rinse Brighid's skin. Keleth stepped down from the stool, searching for and finding what seemed to be the last clean cloth in the tent, and used it to dry Brighid.

Tired, hungry and thirsty, Keleth decided that her last task for the moment would be to remake the braids in Brighid's hair. Moving the stool to Brighid's right side, she stepped up and began the slow process of making small braids, trying to make Brighid's hair look exactly like it had been before, only clean. The process of cleaning and braiding had given Keleth time to relax her mind and not think about the place that was now her home. She was on a battlefront, no doubt very close to danger, and might have her life in the balance a day, or even an hour from that point. She wasn't terribly frightened; not of battle, or blood, or anything of that sort. Her fears were more towards letting down her Mistress, or losing face in front of others, or not performing her duties properly.

It took nearly 30 minutes, but finally Brighid's hair was braided to Keleth's satisfaction. It must be close to dinner time, but Keleth didn't know the official protocol. It was time to wake the mare up in any case, since Keleth was out of water. How best to do it?

Keleth stepped down from the stool, and stood directly in front of the mare. Even in this position, she had to look up at Brighid, though Keleth wasn't cowed. She placed her hand gently on the spot just above Brighid's transition, where a human hip would be and pressed slightly.

"Mistress? I'm finished with part of your bath. I need more water if you wish me to continue. If you are hungry, I believe it is time for a meal. I'm hungry as well, and I don't know where to find food." Keleth kept her voice low, but firm, enough to wake but not to startle.

Brighid opened her eyes, blinking a couple times before coming into full awareness. It was the effects of the wine that overcame her warrior’s instincts to come fully awake immediately. That, and the way she was awakened. This was no call to arms, no crisis. Simply a calm voice urging her to wake. She wondered briefly how long it had been since she’d been awakened that way instead of from the fits of nightmares. The contrast made her smile slightly.

She still felt the effects of the drink, and too little sleep to work it off, but the rest and the partial bath had done her some good. The small human girl stood before her, as if waiting for her to respond. Brighid let her eyes wander over the short statured form, noting the appearance of one tired and dirty from hard work. This little one was not afraid of hard work. Brighid knew that her own state of neglect had made it harder for the girl. Yet the girl had not complained of her tiresome duties, and Brighid admired that.
“How long have I slept? Is it morning?” The centaur mare blinked at the late day sunlight still streaming in through the slitted opening in the tent flap. It was the wrong angle for morning light, Brighid realized.

As the fog of too little sleep on top of too much drink began to clear her mind, Keleth's words slowly registered. Brighid looked at the girl again, appraisingly. Her surly impulse to ignore the girl's request and go back to sleep, inspired by the alcohol's lingering effect, was tempered by her appreciation for the attendant's efforts to help her, and Brighid reconsidered the sarcastic retort she would have given. She heaved a great sigh and lurching forward, managed to stagger to her feet. She winced as the movement irritated the still stinging pain in her rear haunch caused by the cauterized wound.

She moaned, "Oh, by the gods, what did you do to me, girl?" Brighid turned back to try to examine the wound, though it was covered with a fresh bandage. The movement caused her equine body to seem to follow the lead of her humanoid torso, as if she was chasing her tail in slow motion. She stopped and turned to glare at Keleth as the memory of the past couple hours returned to clarity in her mind. "Damn your eyes, human whelp! You branded me! Do you think I am like your cattle to be marked as your own? Well if you think it makes you my owner, you're in for a shock! I'm no one's chattel."

Brighid's anger was more bluster than genuine, her urge to be cantankerous getting the best of her. Maybe she was testing the little human's patience, just to see if she'd lose her unusual calm. She waited a moment to see how the new girl would respond.

For the first time, the harshness of Brighid's voice and manner penetrated Keleth's calm, cool exterior, and Keleth backed away two steps, looking unnerved. She gathered herself and rallied almost at once.

"I didn't brand you, Mistress. I have helped seal the wound you received somewhere else. You can blame the wound on the sword or arrow that struck you. Not on me." The brunt of Brighid's words had passed now, and Keleth decided to go on the offensive.

"You are in a terrible state, Mistress. Either your last attendant was terrible, or you have let yourself go. This messy tent, your fouled body, doesn't become a warrior and a beautiful centaur. If you plan on dismissing me over a simple, cleaned wound, at least let me spend the night cleaning so that I can leave you with a clean space and body."

Keleth didn't ball her fist and move forwards, but her voice was fierce. It was as if she was Brighid's mother and was scolding the mare. Keleth's eyes flashed angrily. She was here to do a job and wouldn't let Brighid's bullheadedness get in the way of her duty.

"It's true you're not my chattel. You are my charge. I have a duty to you as you have a duty to your command, your leaders and your country. I don't care about those things. I do care about your tent, your body, and your well being.”

“I'm also not a whelp. I am 18 years old, and while I have not known a man's touch, I am a woman based on what I have seen. Please do not treat me like a child, despite how short I am."

Keleth took a breath, closing her eyes, and then opened them.

"I wish to eat, and then finish your bath, Mistress. I have some bread and wine, if it is too late to partake in the evening meal with the rest of the camp. I will need more water to finish the rest of your body, and as you have commanded, I won't go out alone. Will you join me?"

Brighid's eyes took on a gleam as the little one stepped back a couple steps. It was a victory she sensed. In her battle trained mind, she'd made her opponent give ground. She'd finally broken that cool calmness that seemed to belie the strength that this little one had inside. In battle, an opponent who could remain calm as they fought was the dangerous one, despite the bluster and fierceness that the nervous ones would show off. If a warrior could get their enemy to lose their temper and act rashly, they had a better chance to exploit any openings which would be sure to come available.

But Keleth wasn't her enemy, Brighid realized. And she hadn't really lost her control, as Brighid found out in the next moment. The little human laid into her with a dressing down as fierce as any drill sergeant, and despite her superior size, Brighid found herself taking a step back in surprise.

Keleth's words were getting through. The comment about Brighid's former keeper being terrible especially got to her, given her raw feelings about letting such a cruel fate befall Cassandra. Brighid visibly flinched when Keleth spoke that accusation, and bowed her head at the rest, realizing how difficult she had made it of late for her attendants, both Cassandra and Keleth. If only she'd gone out for the wood instead. If only it had been her that the Northmen had found alone. If only it had been her that they'd......

Brighid's eyes glistened with the tears that welled up again. She wiped at them angrily. She didn't want Keleth to think that she had made her cry, though indirectly it might have been true perhaps. Brighid listened to the berating until Keleth wound down, once again, her voice taking on that calm measured quality that bespoke of her control. It was almost as if the outburst hadn't happened at all. 'This little one, this woman,' Brighid mentally corrected herself, 'regained her calm control with the discipline of a trained warrior, and was worthy of respect,' she decided.

Brighid stood, head bowed, her eyes averted, and spoke in a chastised tone. "You are right, Keleth. I've been difficult and slovenly. But please don't think it was Cassandra's neglect. She tried, even as you've been trying. I....” She paused, not wanting her voice to crack with the emotion those thoughts brought up within her.

After swallowing hard to collect herself, she continued. "I failed her. And I've been unfair to you. You've been doing a good job so far, despite my being uncooperative. I would not think of dismissing you when all you're trying to do is help me."

"Now come, we'll get more water together. And when we've set it on the fire to warm, I'll show you around the camp. It's not too late to get food. I'll show you where. And we'll draw a fresh sleeping pad for you from the quartermaster. At least you should not have to share my filthy state. Will you help me on with my armor? And make it cover the wound. No one must see it."

Eager to see the camp and resume Brighid's care, Keleth pulled on her leather corset and outer skirt, hiding most of the dirt from the wash. She turned to see the mare's armor lying in a messy heap in the corner. Keleth began with putting Brighid's leather halter back on. The pile in the corner contained a helmet, gauntlets, spaulders, plated armor for Brighid's human torso, then leather and plated armor for her horse body.

Keleth began with the plated armor, struggling to lift it, with its weight, but she was determined to armor Brighid herself, without assistance. The soreness the next day or two would be worth proving her worth to the mare. Fortunately, Brighid moved her body, lowering just enough so that Keleth could manage. While Brighid was bent slightly, Keleth placed the helmet on Brighid's head. Suddenly Brighid looked far more powerful, stately, and even beautiful. Keleth quickly finished with the spaulders and gauntlets, already feeling sore and very sweaty. She didn't feel like she would make a good impression, in a filthy state next to the tall, armored warrior.

The next part was even more daunting. Keleth could manage the leather cover, throwing it over Brighid's long chestnut back, before shifting around to put it in proper place and close all the buckles. The plated armor was nearly impossible to lift, and Keleth grunted in frustration. She was not weak, particularly for her stature. Brighid had asked Keleth to merely help with the armor, but it was Keleth who was determined to do it herself, and ultimately had to ask for help.

"Mistress, I don't think I can manage the outer armor for your back, not yet. I need to get stronger to do it. Could you please help me get it in place? I can adjust it once it's on."

Brighid, moving slowly, but surely, helped get the heavy armor on, and muscles straining, Keleth put it in place, connecting it to the leather under armor. Keleth wiped her brow, heavily sweating, and feeling very thirsty, but at the very least, Brighid was in her armor, and her wound covered. Keleth rechecked everything once, catching her breath. Keleth couldn't help a proud smile when Brighid rose up, towering, majestic.

"You are beautiful in your armor, Mistress. I can see the warrior that I've heard stories about." Keleth grasped the heavy scabbard holding the mare's sword and lifted it. The sword must be close to her own height, Keleth thought.

"I hope to make you proud of me, one day, but I am already proud to serve such a mare as you, Mistress." Keleth's voice was soft, and genuine. She knew that there would be a lot of work to do, to clean and organize and perhaps even break Brighid of her drinking, but Keleth was confident. She quickly brushed her hair with her fingers, and tried to forget about her own presentation as she opened the tent flap, waiting for Brighid to walk through.

Brighid was impressed. She hadn't expected the little woman to do all the work by herself, but all that she'd let Brighid do was move around into positions that made it a little easier. That is except for the heavier armor for her back and flanks. At least the girl didn't ask embarrassing questions, Brighid thought.

A good attendant had to be part stable hand, part squire, and part farrier at times. And there were a host of other duties mundane and specific alike. So far, Keleth had proved her willingness and competence in handling her duties despite the difficult time that Brighid had given her. Brighid wanted to think that she was testing the girl on purpose rather than just being a pain, but she knew better.

She sighed as Keleth settled the weight of the great helm on her head, working her braids so that the carved horse head crest with its stiff bristled fan sat comfortably on her head. The fan of scarlet bristles matched the red jeweled eyes of the carved snorting horse’s head, appearing as if it were a bristling mane, the picture of a charging warhorse. But it wasn't that Brighid was trying to look the part of a horse. Her helmet was a symbol of her devotion to her goddess, Epona. Brighid had been a paladin of Epona before the human wars began. Being a trained warrior, she was naturally called upon to join the cavalry unit to serve the human king.

Since then, she'd let herself go. There was no glory in this war, no honor. It was not being fought for the greater good, to protect the innocent, or to punish the guilty. Well, maybe there was some of that to be done, Brighid thought bitterly. Keleth didn't understand, not yet. Brighid didn't expect her to. But she'd see, she'd learn. There is nothing here but blood and pain and death, Brighid believed. Keleth just wanted to be proud of her warrior mare. Brighid sighed. Putting on her armor always served to remind her of these thoughts. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

As the little human held the tent flap, Brighid rose to her full height, slipping the great sword's baldric over her shoulder, adjusting the huge blade so that it hung along her side, the handle just at her hip for easy and quick draw.

She cinched the strap snugly so that the scabbard wouldn't flop around when she moved. A moment's hesitation, uncertain whether she was ready to face the harsh light of day out there in the camp, and the sights she was sure she'd see. But she steeled her jaw stubbornly and strode forth, emerging from the tent.

Pausing to let her eyes adjust, taking in the details of the camp and its occupants, Brighid stiffened just outside the tent flap. Her gaze was trained on a hillside a couple hundred yards away. A mixed detail of human laborers and centaur guards were busy there. Several large flatbed wagons creaked and lumbered their way up the narrow gravel lane to the hillside. Above, the sky was darkened with the swarm of vultures and buzzards that circled constantly.

Even from this distance, the bodies of slain centaur warrior mares on the flat bed wagons could be seen, their limp dangling lifeless legs bouncing along with the movement of the carts. The movement gave them a horrific mockery of motion, completely lacking in anything resembling the life they once contained.

Brighid stared as Keleth came up beside her, unable to tear her eyes away from the gruesome site. Unnoticed, an officer approached; a buckskin blonde-haired statuesque mare. Her uniform was impeccable, and she stopped before Brighid and Keleth, a haughty sneer of disdain on her features. She paused, as if waiting for Brighid to acknowledge her with some show of respect, but Brighid still stared at the hill.

Clearing her throat loudly, the officer spoke first, recognizing that the warrior before her wouldn't give the satisfaction of military courtesy. "Lieutenant, when are you going to properly display your rank and standing? Your tent flap shows barely half your ribbons and colors. You are in violation of regulations. I could have you disciplined for it you know."

Brighid sighed wearily, still staring off at the burial detail on the hill, speaking quietly, sadly. "My tent flap is full already, Captain. There is no room for more."

"You should get a larger tent then. A warrior of your status is entitled to a tent befitting your proper status. You could do with more room, apparently. It might allow you to see to your appearance better."

Brighid turned to meet the Captain's gaze then, sighing wearily. "I have more room than they will ever have again." she said, nodding in the direction of the burial hill. She walked slowly away, without further comment.

The captain looked sternly down on Keleth. "You are the new attendant?" She pointedly looked after Brighid's retreating form. "You have your work cut out for you. It will be no easy task to turn that one around. But it will be to your credit and will reflect on your status too if you display her colors proudly. I fear you will have to see to it, for she will not."

"Get her to show you where to find the Quartermaster's tent. You have every right to draw a new pavilion from supply. You can get some of the other attendants to help you set it up, and then move your mistress's things into it. Even then, I doubt she will display her colors properly. But your status is reflected in hers. You will gain in ranking among the other attendants by ensuring your mistress is properly represented."

The captain began to move away, then turned back. "I hope you can turn her around. I fear for what will happen to her if you cannot. And I'm not talking about the regulations." She shook her head, her beautiful blonde mane cascading over her shoulders with the motion as she walked away, staring over her shoulder at Brighid's slow progress across the camp, leaving Keleth to catch up.

Standing among giants, or so it seemed to Keleth, gave a stark contrast to Keleth's upbringing around her rather diminutive family. She was half the size of the two centaur mares, and yet she didn't feel any less of a person than they. The words that the Captain spoke were harsh and derisive and Keleth did not like the underlying motivation. It was as if the Captain wanted to be rid of Brighid, despite Brighid's prowess on the battlefield. Outward display of ranking, comportment, were deemed more important than skill with a sword.

This didn't mesh with what Keleth thought of battle and war. She was naive, to be sure, but in her heart, she imagined the mares riding along the lines, with swords drawn and arrows on the string, ready to meet the enemy men. What did ribbons on a tent flap matter to a warrior? Well, some warriors thought such things very important. Keleth did not, even if that reflected on her. As much as she knew about Brighid, she knew that Brighid was more interested in her fellow warriors and the humans that fought and helped them. Brighid's long stare onto the battlefield, to the dead bodies being carted away for burial was more honest and real than anything the Captain had mentioned.

Keleth listened to the Captain attentively, but had to fight to keep her face from showing some disdain. She nodded up at the Captain, before turning away to catch up to Brighid, who was already some distance away, moving towards a cluster of tents that had some human as well as centaur activity. The meaning of the Captain's last words began to sink in.

Brighid was in a troubled state, and it was obvious to those in the camp. Keleth's responsibility wasn't just to her Mistress' outwards appearance. An attendant had to cope with the moods of her Mistress, of getting her Mistress to unwind and unburden so that battle instinct came easily, unburdened by the woes of the aftermath. Some mares apparently formed friendships with their attendants, so Keleth had been told. She wasn't sure if that was what she wanted, or needed. She thought deep down that she just wanted to survive her term of service and return home.

Keleth was then reminded that her parents had similar philosophies to the Captain. Outwards appearance was very important. The money that Keleth was making for her service was being used to further her parents' standing in society. Keleth would return, perhaps to a new house, a better closet of dresses, but no more love than before. Nothing she did would make her parents proud. She winced and gritted her teeth. Unloving parents and a wayward mare as a Mistress.

Keleth finally caught up to Brighid, but Brighid was still lost in thought, wandering aimlessly and only quietly mentioned passing the Quartermaster's tent. Seeing Brighid in such a state gave Keleth leave to quickly run into the tent, and make the request for a larger tent.

The Quartermaster, an older mare who seemed past her fighting prime, half amused, half exasperated, told Keleth that the tent would be delivered the next day and would be put up without the need of Keleth. She could move in Brighid's things in the afternoon. The Quartermaster seemed to have some respect for Brighid, but it was mixed with deep disappointment, based on her tone of voice. Keleth thanked her, with a respectful smile, and went out to Brighid, who was again staring at the hill in the distance.

"Mistress, I requested a new tent. I don't think you should have to display anything more than you have, but I do think that if you wish your peace, it's best to mollify your peers. If you give them no reason to deride you, you can contemplate things quietly, and not be bothered." Keleth looked up, and got a cursory shrug and nod, but no words were spoken. Keleth's stomach rumbled rather loudly, but she didn't want to demand a meal until Brighid was finished reflecting.

Brighid finally tore her gaze away from the cemetery hill, and wiped angrily at her tear filled eyes. No other sign of her emotions showed on her face, but her general demeanor was one of a dejected and defeated warrior. Her steps were slow and plodding as she made her way slowly towards the mess tents, the soft spoken words of her new attendant finally sinking in. She muttered in low tones, pointing out the armorer's tent, and then the farrier, and blacksmith, both human workers who provided necessary services for the centaur unit.

The quartermaster's supply tent was the largest structure in the camp, almost like a warehouse of goods that were needed by the camp's members from day to day. But second largest in structure were the mess tents, three in all, arranged together in a 'T' shape, with the two dining tents forming the cross of the 'T', and the cooking tent forming the stem. Brighid explained that the attendants usually ate together in the left most tent of the cross, and the warrior mares ate together in the other tent. There was no partition between the tents, so at the ends where they joined, attendants and warriors sometimes commingled.

Brighid paused at the outer flap of the mess tent entrance at the juncture, turning to regard Keleth. Her eyes traveled up and down the shorter human woman, noting her appearance. It probably wasn't fair to expect the little keeper to mix among her peers in such a state. They would remark on her sweat plastered hair and dirty smudges on her clothes. The rivalry between attendants sometimes could be pretty mean spirited, Brighid knew. Not all struggles took place on the battle field.

And she knew her own appearance in the tent would spawn plenty of whispered comments, as it seemed to do more and more often of late. Perhaps Keleth was right. Maybe trying to fit in, to play the petty games that seemed so important to her peers, perhaps that was the way to peace. But peace was impossible for a warrior. Peace among her peers was meaningless as long as the war continued. There would never be peace in her spirit.

Brighid turned to Keleth, speaking softly. "I know you are hungry. And we need more water to bathe. Bring food back to the pavilion and I will meet you there. Stay in the camp. I will fetch the water. There is no need for both of us to risk being caught outside the camp. I'll return soon."

The mare turned and walked slowly away. Even wearing her armor, the tension in her shoulders was obvious. She'd rather face the risk of being caught by the enemy than the jeering comments of her peers.

Keleth gave a gentle nod as Brighid gave her orders, then turned to walk away. Keleth didn't like the idea of Brighid doing an attendant's work, but if Brighid needed to do it for the safety of both, Keleth would not object. The small woman strode forwards, lifting the flap of the dining tent and was suddenly filled with louder noise. Conversation from both sides of the tent: quiet chatter from the attendants, and louder, more boisterous merriment from the mares. This seemed to be a release after the grit and death of the previous battle, with many tankards of ale being passed around. Keleth wasn't used to seeing females drink so openly, but centaurs were different in many ways than humans.

Keleth's eyes sought the head cook, and found instead a set of three middle aged women, stout, red-faced, working hard over pots, cutting bread and talking merrily. They seemed to enjoy their work, and periodically one would take food either to the human side or the centaur side. One of them noticed Keleth and beckoned, obviously noting her state and her unfamiliarity. Keleth walked swiftly forwards and was grabbed suddenly by the arm and steered aside.

"What do you mean by it, girl, coming into this place looking like that? What would your Mistress say if she saw it?" The cook's eyes glowered; still taking in Keleth's dirty dress, face and hair, but Keleth did not back away.

"My Mistress is Brighid, and I spent the better part of the hours after my arrival trying to give her a proper bath. She seems to have been neglected lately, and I'm here to change that. I apologize for looking so dirty, but Mistress Brighid commanded to get food, not to bathe." Keleth put gentle, but firm tone in her voice, so that the cook knew that the task was being taken seriously. The mention of Brighid's name brought a big change in the cook's demeanor. She released Keleth, but seemed to look even grimmer.

"Well, child, you have your work cut out for you. Brighid has been drinking more than eating lately, though her blade has been as accurate as ever." As the cook spoke, Keleth could feel some eyes on her, from both sides, but she ignored this for now. Keleth didn't respond to the comment either.

"May I have some food for both of us? I do not know what my Mistress prefers. I would hope you could help me with that. I also hope to join the meal when she allows." Keleth forced herself to be polite, despite the increase in mutterings. She wanted to get back to the tent before real conversation broke out and she became a part of it. The cook shrugged, then moved quickly to get a large tray, putting on two large bowls of some kind of porridge, a much smaller bowl of meat stew, a large piece of bread, and a flagon of wine.

As Keleth waited while the cook prepared the large tray, she felt a tug on her sleeve. A voice behind her said, “So you’re the one who got stuck with Brighid, eh?”

The voice belonged to a taller, sandy haired young woman who appeared to be in her mid twenties. She was seated at one of the long dining tables on the attendant’s side. She pointedly looked Keleth up and down, making sure to exaggerate the visual inspection, adding emphasis by shaking her head slowly in mock dismay. “It looks like she’s already ‘rubbing off’ on you. Careful, Little Girl. She’s liable to roll over on you in her sleep. A little thing like you would feel like nothing more than a cocklebur to her. Then again, she’d probably be too deep in her cups to notice.” The attendants near the girl smirked or snickered. All of them were older girls who obviously had been attendants for some time. One younger girl on the far end of the table stared down into her plate of food, quietly saying nothing.

**************

Keleth met the girls eyes, but didn't respond in words, but gave a steely stare. The other girls who laughed didn't matter to Keleth either. Despite this being some sort of community, right now she only had the task set by Brighid and that was all. Any integration would come later, and it certainly wouldn't involve this rather tart sounding girl.

A moment later, a phrase from her childhood came to her and she said it in a low, but carrying voice, so that all the chattering, laughing girls could hear.

"The man easily swats the wasp in the flower, but woe be the man if it feels the bee's sting."

Her eyes flashed warningly as she said it, and turned her back on the crowd to face the cook, leaving more snickers, but mixed with some derisive snorts.

The cook carried the laden tray over to Keleth, then looked unsure."I can take this over to your tent child; you don't look like you could handle it." Keleth frown, and bit back a retort. Instead, she took the tray from the cook, and though it was terribly heavy, she maneuvered around and stepped out of the tent. There was a sudden hush as she went through the flap, and something was said as the flap closed that she missed, from one of the mares. There was a sound of laughter from the tent as Keleth moved slowly across the camp. The soreness from the afternoon's bath came on strong in the last few feet in front of Brighid's tent and Keleth nearly toppled. She paused to steel her muscles for the last gasp, then saw Brighid moving up the slope behind the tent.

Just before Keleth could reach the tent flap, quick footsteps behind her and another girl's voice sounded. "Let me help you with that." The next moment, without waiting for the offer to be accepted, a younger blonde haired girl, close to Keleth in age, stepped up to take hold of the tray, lifting just enough to ease the load. She smiled across the tray at Keleth, her clear blue eyes friendly and warm.

"Hi, I'm Brennan. Keleth, right? I was working near the quartermaster's tent when you came in. I heard you talking to her."

Brennan supported the tray just enough to give Keleth a moment's rest to recover her strength, but didn't try to take the tray away. "You okay now? It's pretty heavy. My mistress eats a lot! She's an archer, not cavalry, so you'd think she wouldn't have such an appetite, not having to run around so much." Brennan's tone was light and cheerful, friendly; unlike the sneering tone of the girls in the dining tent.

She turned away to hold open the tent flap, pausing in admiration of the colorful ribbons that hung from the canvas. In profile, Keleth could recognize Brennan as the girl who had been staring at her food quietly as the other girls teased and jeered. She held the tent flap, turning back to face Keleth, her face serious. "Your mistress is well known as one of the best warriors in the unit. Don't pay any heed to what those others say. That was Marissa. Her mistress is the Captain, and she thinks that makes her so much better than the rest of us. But honestly, your mistress has more combat honors. I think Marissa's just jealous. She thinks she has to establish her superiority over all the newcomers."

Brennan spotted Brighid returning with the water buckets hung from her spear shaft, two buckets full on each side, carrying the load like a yoke over her neck. Even from this distance, the bow in the spear shaft from the weight could easily be seen. Brennan watched in open admiration.

"She's magnificent isn't she? You're so lucky, Keleth. I've even heard that Brighid could be chosen as the next in line to take the captain's place, if anything happens to her. That would really piss Marissa off. It would serve her right though. If only you can get her sober and back in shape, I think you can really make a difference."

Brighid neared the tent, and Brennan glanced back at her. "Well, I know that tray is heavy, and your mistress will want you. I'll see you around. If you ever need someone to talk to, I live in that tent over there." She pointed to a modest sized tent about a quarter of the way across the camp. "Come by anytime, Keleth. My mistress doesn't mind if I have visitors, unless she's sleeping, or...." Brennan blushed mysteriously, but didn't elaborate. "Well, just announce yourself before entering. I'm sure she won't mind, usually."

Brennan turned away with a slight wave, her eyes going back to Brighid one last time before the mare rounded the pavilion and lowered the buckets of water. There was nothing of disdain in her gaze, only sheer admiration.

Brighid eyed the heavy tray in Keleth's arms, then glanced at the other attendant as she left. "Making friends, Keleth? Good. Now you'd better put that tray down before it gets too heavy. I don't care to dine off the ground." Brighid's eyes fell upon the flagon of wine and she licked her lips. Absently, she said, "You may bathe first, if you wish. But the water is still cold from the spring. Let it warm up over the fire while we eat, if you don't mind being dirty a little longer. It won't bother me. I've smelled worse."

Keleth was so sore and tired from carrying the tray that she just let the young girl speak, though she smiled, grateful that there was someone in the camp that she could talk to, and perhaps relate to. The girl was shy, but her friendliness and caring was honest, just as Brighid's sadness and anger was honest.

She put the tray down inside the tent on a large stool and wiped her brow. She felt and heard Brighid move past to set down the water, both very large buckets by the fire. Keleth took a few moments to gather herself, and then considered dinner. Either she could take her food to the corner and eat, or be bold and eat with Brighid. Did mares eat with their attendants?

Keleth looked over at the fire to the buckets of water. They seemed like barrels and there would certainly be enough for both to bathe. Keleth didn't like the idea of eating without bathing, but Brighid was correct, the bath for both would take too long. Keleth moved to the table, barely able to see the top of it, and began to move the hot bowls to it. Brighid wouldn't sit of course, but the height seemed to make it easier to get at plates and such. Once everything was on the table, Keleth climbed up onto a high stool and sat, waiting. She poured a goblet of wine for herself and left the rest of it for Brighid.

"I hadn't intended to make friends, but that girl, Brennan, followed me and was willing to help. A stark contrast to the other attendants. I don't like them much. You and Brennan are at least honest. I've always been a good judge of people in that way. You may be gruff, angry, even rude, but it is honest, and I appreciate that. I will make an effort to get to know Brennan, if you think it's a good idea." Keleth didn't mind much if Brighid took offense. The mare had treated her alternately with disdain and anger, and also more gentle encouragement. Keleth sensed the true personality was somewhere in between.

Something that Brennan said suddenly came to mind, and as Brighid seemed to be about to speak, Keleth interrupted.

"Brennan said that she admired you greatly, along with her own Mistress. She said I shouldn't visit if her Mistress was sleeping, or something else she didn't have time to mention. Would you know what that is, Mistress?"

As Keleth prepared the table with their food, Brighid removed her longsword and hung the scabbard on a peg on the tent frame. She removed most of the armor letting it drop where it lay. It was close quarters with both of them moving around the tent. There was room enough when Brighid stood still, but with both of them trying to fuss about, there were plenty of occasions to brush against each other. Brighid didn't comment about it. She knew that they'd have to live together and would no doubt be in contact closer than any casual brushes before it was over.

When at last she came to the table and prepared to eat, she listened to Keleth talk about the new friend she'd made. Brighid managed to nod now and then, but busied herself mostly with eating. While Keleth had the stew that was common fare for most of the human attendants, the centaur mares usually enjoyed a bowl of oat porridge and a large bowl of greens and fruit. It was a simple diet, but effective for keeping them fit for battle.

Brighid eyed the wine flagon. She knew that Keleth wouldn't want her to drink any more, especially since she had just sobered up enough to be civil to the girl. But the trouble was, night was approaching, and with night would come the nightmare visions and memories. The amount of wine that was there wasn't enough to make her forget and lose herself in a stupor. It wouldn't be enough to make her pass the night peacefully. And yet, it was more than she ought to have, by the standards of most of the camp's occupants, including Keleth, most likely. Brighid busied herself with the food instead, trying not to think about it as she listened to Keleth talk about her new acquaintance.

She'd just taken a big bite of the oatmeal porridge when Keleth asked her question.

Brighid snorted, nearly choking on her food. Her eyes snapped up to search Keleth's face, looking for any tell tale signs that the small woman was trying to tease or embarrass her, but the question seemed to be sincere, and asked innocently enough. Brighid blushed fiercely and turned away for a long moment. It was no use though, Keleth was still looking at her expectantly when she turned back, waiting for an answer.

Brighid spoke quietly at first, her voice low. She could not meet Keleth's eyes directly. "Well.....you see......Uh, how do I put this? You know that it's a keeper's....I mean....an attendant's job to take care of the mistress' needs, right? Attendants help their mare keep clean, keep their quarters and their equipment in good shape, and see that they are tended when they are wounded. You were taught all that in your training, yes? Well, there are certain....uh....attendants who are especially devoted to their mistress. They naturally see it as their duty....no, not duty, really.....their 'responsibility', yeah, that's a better word. They see it as their responsibility to take care of all their mistress' needs, not just those needs related to battle. Do you understand my meaning?" Brighid seemed very embarrassed to be discussing the subject, even though she hadn't really given a straight answer yet that Keleth would understand.

She busied herself with her food again, hoping that Keleth wouldn't ask for clarification. But when she glanced up again, there was that expectant look, waiting for her to finish the answer. Brighid blushed again, so uncharacteristic of the gruff warrior that Keleth had met only a few hours before. "Look, I'm not explaining it too well. It's......well maybe you'd better ask your new friend about it. We just met, after all, and I don't want to scare you off. You seem to be a very good keeper, err, attendant. You seem like you're very devoted......." Brighid trailed off as she realized that the word she'd just used to describe Keleth was the same one she'd used to describe those attendants who performed those certain 'special responsibilities'. Was it an innocent slip of the tongue? Or was the time coming soon when she herself might wish secretly for her 'needs' to be taken care of?

Brighid blushed even more red as she hung her head, staring at the food in her bowl. She reached for the flagon and took a long pull from the wine.

Keleth listened and wasn't sure at first what her Mistress was hinting at, but the blush on Brighid's cheeks, combined with the look that Brennan had suddenly made complete sense. Sex. Some attendants took care of their Mistress' physical needs. Keleth felt herself blushing also, but the idea wasn't repugnant. Mares, some of them, like her Mistress, were regal and beautiful, and Keleth, despite some anxiety and confusion, thought that giving pleasure would be an honor, even if she had no idea how it would work. Keleth looked down at her mostly eaten stew, a little unsure what to say. Then she smiled, inwardly. If her Mistress could be brought to a blush, just because of a discussion of sexuality, there was much hope for her, for their relationship. It could be something talked about in the future, perhaps even experienced together.

That train of thought was interrupted when Keleth saw the draw of wine that Brighid took. The soft, subtle smile became a frown, and a different instinct came to the forefront. Her voice became firm, even scolding in a motherly way.

"Mistress, I don't want you to drink too much wine, not after how I found you this afternoon. I don't know what made you drink so much, but it doesn't become you. If there is something you wish to forget, I would rather you talk to me about it, than try to forget."

Keleth stood up and started to clear the bowls, though she left the flask of wine where it was, not wanting to really anger Brighid. She wouldn't remove it, force Brighid not to drink. After only a few hours, she didn't feel she had the right to boss her own Mistress around that way. She placed the empty bowls on the tray to return later, then went to the fire, testing the water. It had warmed, though it wasn't hot yet. In the mean time, she started to disrobe, knowing that it would be easier if she was nude during the rest of Brighid's bath. Too much mud and blood on her clothes would render them useless and she only had one spare pair. She worried that any clothes she received in this place would be infested with lice, or worse.

Suddenly aware that Brighid might be watching, she remained facing away, covering herself as the fire warmed her. Keleth wasn't used to being nude in front of many people, particularly not a strong, beautiful centaur mare. She turned red at the thought of being seen in this state, but then understood that in personal quarters like this, eventually Brighid would see all of her. She still covered her breasts and her sex as she faced, Brighid, then slowly dropped her arms.

"If you would like the rest of your bath, Mistress, I'm ready. The water should be warm enough in a few minutes, and in the mean time, you can tell me anything that you might prefer. I should check your wound also."

Brighid hung her head as Keleth's disapproving words reproached her. She couldn't help it, it was the same tone of voice her dame had used when she was a colt. She was programmed to respond to it in the same way even now. The funny thing was, none of her peers or officers used quite that same tone, so their comments were easily ignored or dealt with in a way that didn't involve the same reaction.

When she realized how she was reacting, several bitter or sarcastic comments ran through her mind as ways to respond: 'What do you know about it? You're scarcely old enough to drink.' or maybe 'Who is mistress here, and who is the attendant?' or possibly 'You're not my mother, you have no idea what war is like, you don't know what I'm trying to forget.'

All of those things crossed her mind, but she bit back those responses. Instead, she hung her head, not taking another drink, but not strong enough to let go of the flagon entirely. She watched Keleth clean away the dishes and begin to disrobe in preparation to finish her bath. Her thoughts continued as she noticed with mild interest that Keleth was disrobing completely this time. Brighid didn't mean to stare. Rather her thoughts were on other things as her eyes fixated on the young human's body.

They always fascinated her, these truncated little human bodies. Without the equine part behind her, Keleth and other girls like her looked so....different. Brighid found her eyes especially drawn to the small round buttocks and the strangely shaped legs, graceful in their own way, she supposed. Definitely intriguing to look at. But she often wondered how they did it. How could they stand and walk on those things? Only two legs instead of four. Life must be a constant balancing act for them, Brighid thought. And no hooves either. How they could walk over rocks or gravelly stream beds, or through thistle infested grasslands, she couldn't understand.

She regarded Keleth's feet, tilting her head slightly. It looked to Brighid like the ends of Keleth's legs had been pinched flat and folded over for the girl to stand on. Her eyes wandered over Keleth's short but sturdy body. She noted the smaller breasts, smaller only because her whole body was smaller, but Keleth was a comely young woman, Brighid supposed. Her gaze drifted to the well toned arms, and she blushed again, turning away quickly as Keleth glanced at her, realizing she was staring. Considering what they'd been talking about, Brighid caught herself experiencing a strange little tingle as her imagination had provided images she wasn't ready to consider.

The thing was, she liked the small human so far. For some reason she found herself wanting to earn Keleth's approval. It shouldn't have mattered to her what her attendant thought of her being drunk, but it did. In the short time she'd had to get to know anything about Keleth, Brighid had come to admire the girl's steady calm, and her apparent devotion to her duties. She was capable and hard working, not afraid to get dirty and handle unpleasant or difficult tasks. Even though her stature made some things difficult, Brighid thought Keleth would be a very good attendant. Potentially even better than Cassandra had been.

The thought of Cassandra brought back the guilt Brighid felt about what had happened. And when it came down to it, that's what she was trying to forget. That's why she drank. She wasn't trying to forget about Cassandra. She was trying to forget her own guilt in what had happened. Could Keleth understand that, if she explained to her? She'd said to talk to her about it. Would she understand? Could she?

"If you would like the rest of your bath, Mistress, I'm ready. The water should be warm enough in a few minutes, and in the mean time, you can tell me anything that you might prefer. I should check your wound also."

Brighid turned back to face her, noting the demure way the girl covered her breasts and her sex, so peculiarly placed on her body. As Brighid watched, Keleth slowly lowered her hands, standing before her mistress completely nude, completely exposed, hiding nothing. It struck Brighid profoundly and in that moment, she decided to open up to Keleth too.

Murmuring softly, as if unsure still, Brighid said, "I know you're ashamed of me, Keleth. You probably wish you had been assigned to another mare. I wouldn't blame you if you asked for a change of assignment, Keleth. You would be justified, considering what happened to my last attendant. Have you heard the stories? About how she left and never came back, all because I was so difficult to deal with, right? That's what the rumors say. That I'm losing it. That I'm dangerous and take too many risks. That I'm so uncaring that even my own attendant wanted to get away from me."

"Well, I want you to know the truth before you decide. Cassandra didn't leave, she didn't run away. She was taken by those northern savages while gathering wood for the fire one night. She was alone outside of camp." Brighid hung her head as she continued. "I should have been with her. I could have gathered the wood instead of her. She might still be safe then. But I had been difficult with her, told her to get the wood herself if she was cold. So she went out alone."

"When she didn't come back, I went to find her." Brighid lapsed into silent brooding, shuddering with the memories. "I found only what they left of her. I killed the ones I found with her body, and was bringing her back when one of them shot me. That is the truth of it, Keleth. She didn't leave me. You believe me, don't you?"

Keleth was shocked not only at the story, but also Brighid's openness. The short girl stepped forwards, looking up at the stately mare, whose eyes were shrouded in emotion. She wanted to comfort Brighid, but didn't want to offend her either. She reached up and caressed the transition of soft human skin to horse hair.

"Mistress, I believe you. You have been nothing but honest with me. And you even had the strength not to drink at the table. I won't forget that, or the fact that you lost your last attendant, lost Cassandra in a very unfortunate way. I'm not here to replace her. I would never try to. I won't make you forget either." Keleth continue to stroke, the transition, enjoying the contrast of the two parts of her Mistress, and forgetting her own nudity. Her neck was uncomfortable as she looked almost directly up at Brighid.

"Mistress, please let me take off the rest of your armor and bathe you, we can talk more if you like." Keleth was a little surprised at the softness of her voice and the ease at which she directed Brighid. The mare had stopped speaking, but lowered herself, as in the afternoon, so that it was easier for Keleth to remove the rest of her armor. Once that was finished, Keleth dragged over one of the large buckets of warmed water, retrieved the bar of soap and began to wash, starting from the front.

Keleth didn't want to speak too much, or push Brighid into speaking. The way that Cassandra had been taken and died no doubt was the cause of Brighid's drinking, and her melancholy. Keleth knew she had to be very careful in her care, so that she did not remind Brighid too much of her former attendant, nor make Brighid too emotional. A warrior who was angry could do great arm to herself. Keleth found herself massaging the mare's body as much as washing it, trying to soothe her physically. Keleth's body was covered in suds, water, dirty and sweaty, but focused on her task. There was a beautiful simplicity in caring for Brighid this way. Despite the extensive training that Keleth had received in care, she never thought that she would enjoy any of it. However, the soreness, the grime, the sweat was worth seeing Brighid's body slowly become clean, the chestnut hair showing out from the days of dirt.

"Tomorrow, the new tent will be put up and I will have your things moved over. I will place all your ribbons on the tent flap, so that the other mares will no longer bother you about them. You need not be proud, and I will take no pride in them myself. I only want to give you respite, as is my duty. If you wish a bath every day, I can provide it, if you provide the water. I won't get it for myself, if you don't wish me to. To be very honest, I have never liked being ordered around. It is my nature to rebel against that, Mistress. However, I will follow any guidelines that you set out, particularly if they are for my safety. I don't want to be taken away like Cassandra was."

Keleth had worked around Brighid to her tail, pausing to catch her breath and take a sip of wine to relieve her dry mouth. Taking a refreshed sponge, she moved the mare's tail and cleaned underneath Brighid's rear legs, up to her sex. The water had cooled some, so Keleth was surprised at a rather intense heat from that area. Brighid's sex was hot, moist and a strong, earthy scent was coming from it. The intensity almost shocked Keleth, and she wondered why she hadn't detected it before. She didn't want to linger there, out of respect, but since Brighid couldn't see, Keleth leaned in and breathed deeply. She stifled any noise of response, despite very much enjoying the scent, and then moved around to the other side.

Keleth was quickly tiring and she needed to bathe herself. She finished up washing Brighid, rechecking the wound so that it was clean for the evening, then moved over to the fire, preparing for her own wash. Her side was to Brighid and not wanting to draw attention, kept her eyes averted as she took a refreshed sponge and the soap and started to cleans her dirty skin. It felt wonderful to wash in the warm water, in front of the fire, something she could get very used to.

Brighid watched as the young human came closer, waiting for her answer more anxiously than she would have thought. What Keleth would think of her mattered to her. Her eyes followed as Keleth stepped up before her, reaching out to softly stroke her torso. Brighid held her breath as Keleth's fingers stroked her skin and fur lightly, just at the point where they mixed. Brighid didn't know what to think, didn't know how to respond to the gentle touch that sent unmistakable tingles through her that she couldn't explain. She was struck silent.

Hearing Keleth say that she believed her brought the single tear that slid down Brighid's cheek before she could turn her face away to hide it. But she listened as her attendant continued, explaining how she didn't mean to replace Cassandra or her memory. But the thing was, Brighid did want to forget some things. Not the way that Cassandra took care of her; she never would forget the good things about the girl. But the night visions that came to her, the sights, smells, and sounds of the place where she found Cassandra's body; the scent of the blood and death all over the small clearing, and the feel of limp lifelessness as she carried the badly abused body of her attendant away from that place; those things she wanted to forget.

But it was hard to find the words to explain as Keleth stroked her so soothingly. Brighid let herself drift into the soothing almost trance-like state that Keleth's touches and even tone of voice seemed to induce in her. She knelt down without question to allow Keleth to remove her armor and finish bathing her. The firm scrubbing did feel good, Brighid had to admit as the layers of dirt and sweat and neglect were massaged and rinsed away.

Keleth continued talking through the bath about how she would care for Brighid, and even obey her wishes that the little human woman stay in camp unless accompanied by a warrior. Brighid understood the sense of independence that Keleth expressed about wanting to rebel against being told what to do. It was one of the qualities that Brighid was coming to respect in the smaller woman. It would be one of the traits that would set her apart from any other attendant Brighid had ever had before. But she couldn't take the chance that any harm could come to her.

"Keleth, if you want to come and go as you wish, then at least let me teach you how to defend yourself. I'd still feel better if I were with you, but I don't want you to feel like a prisoner. You don't have to stay in the tent all the time either. I just don't want to risk the same thing happening to you. The others might not think it appropriate for me to teach you such things, but you're my attendant, not theirs."

"As for the new tent, It doesn't matter to me as a source of vanity, but larger living quarters would be more comfortable for you, I'm sure. Just because you're stuck with me doesn't mean you have to live in poor conditions. I won't force that upon you."

Brighid fell quiet, focusing on the pleasurable sensations of the bathing massage. She let her eyes close and her head tilted slightly to one side. As Keleth applied the cool sponge to her hindquarters, Brighid lifted her tail to help. The wet contact on her sex felt good, soothing her and arousing her slightly. It shouldn't have affected her, she realized, but she found herself holding her breath as Keleth bathed the area. Perhaps it was the topic of Keleth's earlier embarrassing questions that could explain the tingle of arousal that Brighid was feeling, or perhaps it was another cause altogether.

In her mind, she counted back the days since the last time. Brighid hoped her time wasn't coming on her again so soon. It would be hard to explain to this new girl, so soon after meeting. Brighid was rather private in regard to her personal needs. But the subject would eventually come up, she knew. Her time would come upon her and be a dangerous distraction, perhaps even become so strong that she could not ignore it this time like she had the last with Cassandra. But each time she ignored it, let the time pass without getting bred or at least getting some relief, it became stronger and harder to deal with the next time. Brighid wasn't looking forward to the next one.

She wasn't about to look back there now, not with Keleth tending to her in that area. But she couldn't stop the little muscle twinges that were happening. She only hoped that Keleth wouldn't misunderstand the 'wink' of her sex. It was purely due to the stimulation of the bathing, Brighid told herself. She couldn't help it, right? That thought still didn't stop the flush from creeping up her skin. She coughed to cover her nervousness and to disguise the strong urge to whicker in pleasure at the contact.

Mercifully, Keleth didn't say anything, and moved on with the bath. Brighid let her breath out slowly, releasing some of the embarrassing tension. She opened her eyes, relieved that the moment had passed without being any more embarrassing than it was. Her gaze fell upon the sleeping pad of her attendant. It consisted of a quilted stuffed pillow, about 6 feet across, and about 6 inches thick, but it was filthy and damp. It had been Cassandra's and ought to have been replaced for a new attendant. But Keleth's arrival only this afternoon had not been expected.

Brighid frowned. The little human woman deserved better than that. She'd been working hard to do her duties and would be very tired, no doubt. Brighid glanced back to where Keleth had finished and was preparing to bathe herself. For a few moments again, Brighid stared, studying the girl's body. The way she looked now, Brighid had to admit that Keleth was appealing to look at, with the warm glow of the firelight illuminating her body from behind. The orange and yellows of the flames lent a softening glow of light that played over the contours of Keleth's gracefully muscular body. It enhanced curves and contours that Brighid hadn't noticed before. And the wetness spread by the sponge over her skin gave Keleth a glistening effect that riveted Brighid's gaze on the young woman's body.

She didn't mean to embarrass the girl, and after a few moments, she realized that Keleth was purposefully not looking in her direction, probably because she felt a little self conscious. Brighid broke her gaze, realizing she was being rude by staring. She rose to her feet, heading towards the entrance of the tent. "I'll give you some privacy, Keleth. I'll be back soon."

About 15 minutes later, she returned with a bundle under one arm, and a jug in the other. By this time, she figured Keleth would be finished with her bath. She glanced at the girl, still nude, and smiled. "I brought you something. No, not the jug. That's for me. Well, I guess I can share it with you, if you'd like. But I meant this." She unrolled the bundle revealing a brand new sleeping pad and a pair of blankets, along with a pillow.

Brighid kicked the old pad out of the way, and spread the new one in a dry spot, not far from the fire. It was situated so that she could lie down on the other side of the pad, with Keleth able to sleep between the fire and Brighid's body. It would provide plenty of warmth for the little human, and Brighid's body would also block any drafts from the tent opening. Brighid handed over the folded blankets to her new attendant, then took a long drink from the jug before setting it down on the table. "At least one of us ought to sleep well tonight." she muttered.

Keleth watched as the mare left the tent and frowned a little despite the confidence she was feeling as a new attendant and the relationship she felt was developing with Brighid. Keleth felt slightly uncomfortable with being alone, and with the emotions that Brighid was dealing with, and partially hiding. Keleth didn't need privacy, not from Brighid. She wanted openness and understanding. She knew instinctively that they needed each other. Keleth needed Brighid to protect her, help with the worst of the chores, and teach her some use of weapons. Brighid needed Keleth for personal care, and obviously emotional support.

Keleth washed slowly, taking care to get every speck of dirt, grime, and sweat from her skin. She felt exhausted, but much better when her bath was finished. She stayed nude, wanting to dry in front of the fire, and knowing that Brighid didn't object to it. She had seen the mare's eyes roam over her small body. She wondered vaguely if there was some attraction. She didn't think that mare would even like humans, particularly one as girl-like as Keleth.

"I brought you something. No, not the jug. That's for me. Well, I guess I can share it with you, if you'd like. But I meant this."

The mare had returned, with a new sleeping pad and pushed the old, dirty one away with distaste. The new one was set down before Keleth gently, between the fire and the mare, as the mare returned to the floor.

For a moment, Keleth eyed the jug, knowing it was some drink in order to make Brighid forget. Keleth frowned, but stayed silent for the moment. She set her blankets down on the sleeping pad, and then made the blankets neatly, as if it was a real bed. She wanted to show that she wanted good things for herself, as well as Brighid. She represented Brighid, so if there was some sort of inspection, her things would be tidy.

"Mistress, thank you for getting me the sleeping pad and blankets. I don't know if I will be able to sleep tonight, despite how tired I am. It is too new, the sounds, the smells, even the light is strange to me." She paused and faced Brighid directly, arms folded over her bare breasts. "I don't like that you are drinking, but I understand the reason. You want to forget, so you can sleep."

Keleth walked over, and brushed that same area, the transition of fur to skin, taking pleasure in it just as before. Brighid did not look at her, and Keleth wondered if the mare would get angry. Even if Brighid did get angry, Keleth was sure she wouldn't be violent, not after Cassandra.

"I won't stop you, not tonight. I do want you to be able to accept what happened, instead of forgetting or avoiding it. I want to help you. I refuse to learn weaponry from you if you drink, or sleep close to you after drinking. I want to do both those things, in time." Keleth pushed the sleeping pad closer to the fire, to a distance where she knew a drunk mare wouldn't roll over on her. The story had stuck in her head and she didn't want the pain of being rolled over. She walked slowly back to Brighid, taking the mare's hand. She caressed the large palm, the fingers. There were calluses, blisters, probably from holding a sword, from battle.

"I'm here to help you Brighid. I'm not afraid of you. I like you. I respect you, your honesty, your valor, and your emotions. I will help you, in anything you need." Keleth kissed the palm of Brighid's large hand, smiled, and went to her sleeping pad, getting under the sheets. She had never slept nude before, but exhaustion overcame her, and despite her words and fears, she slipped quickly into an easy sleep.

A sound awoke Keleth, hours later, a rough voice, hissing from feet away, the fire down to barely embers. Keleth was wrapped in her blankets, a tight ball, and shivered as she turned over to face, Brighid. Brighid was waving her arms, speaking incoherently, obviously upset. She must be dreaming. Nightmares about Cassandra's death. Keleth got up quickly, forgetting sleep, forgetting the chill in the air of the tent, and went carefully towards Brighid, from behind, near her left flank. Brighid was flailing, as if she was trying to beat away something, perhaps men, perhaps trees, then went limp for a moment. She was crying, sobbing. It was heartbreaking to see such a strong female, a warrior, sobbing like a child. Brighid's arms went out in front of her and crooked, as if lifting something. It must be Cassandra's body.

Keleth walked slowly along the mare's body, hand stroking lightly. Keleth knew how dangerous it was to get closer, but she felt compelled to help, even if Brighid didn't remember in the morning. The sobs increased, and Brighid's arms went limp again. Keleth moved close enough to start to stroke the transition gently, carefully, hoping to soothe, to calm.

"Mistress, you're safe. You're sleeping, you're in the tent. Cassandra is gone, to be with the Goddess, your Goddess. It isn't your fault. Please be calm and sleep soundly. You aren't alone anymore. I'm here to care for you."

Keleth's words were barely a whisper, as not to wake Brighid, but hopefully to reach through to her disturbed dream. Brighid's sobs didn't fade, but she didn't wake, and her arms no longer flailed. Keleth continued to stroke, until suddenly an arm came at her again and she barely avoided being struck by it. She fell back onto the floor of the tent, then moved away. She wouldn't risk going near again, instead returning under her covers to be vigilant, not daring to sleep, scared, concerned.

At some point, sleep came to Keleth again, though it was fitful, with her own strange dreams of riding on the back of Brighid, being thrown off, bruised, bloodied, and hearing the mare's roar of anger and sadness.