"Are you alright?" The man asked.
Kamila blinked at him, still uncertain if she was alive.
When some time passed and the young man didn't leave her side, not even letting go of her arms that he had taken hold of without Kamila's knowledge, she decided it was neither a dream nor death.
The intense pain that had taken over her whole body that she imagined was from being thrown onto the ground attested to her being alive. Her left cheek had started throbbing too in memory of the slap that she had received. Her head turned. There. The dead bodies of the people that the heartless men had killed. Tears welled in her eyes. She looked back at the young man who was still staring at her as if he was studying her.
She tried sitting up, whimpering at the pain in her shoulder. The man held her arm taking most of her weight. This was unnatural. Kamila wasn't used to being touched. It was a strange feeling. One that made her jerk her arms out of his grip and back away slowly.
She had been stupid enough to come before the other strangers. She didn't want to make the same mistake again.
As she slowly stood up, the young man mirroring her movements slowly as if any fast action might scare her, her eyes went behind him.
Her eyes widened as she beheld several men wearing armor and holding swords standing behind him, all their attention fixed on her, some with suspicion, some with pity.
It was done. They were discovered. Everything was over.
"Do not be afraid," said the young man in a considerably gentler tone with a hand raised in her direction as if to stall any action on her side.
Kamila took a step back. She had failed to fight the two men. What hope did she have escaping such a big number?
"Search all their things, Cyril. Make sure to leave nothing back. It seems they killed the whole company."
Another person, the only one younger than the man standing before Kamila moved and went in the direction of the corpses. That was when she saw the dead body of the taller man. They must have killed him just a few moments ago. Her throat closed up and she turned around, hurling the contents of her stomach onto the ground. It came in waves and Kamila almost didn't notice the hands holding her shoulders. She would have fallen without their support.
She heard the young man's voice close to her ears, tickling them. "The rest of you. Go and feed and water the horses. We have a long journey ahead."
Even if he was young, he had an authoritative voice. Kamila could imagine him commanding a bigger battalion than this one. This led her to just one conclusion. He was a lord of some place.
She shuddered and moved away again. Her father had ingrained in her a healthy dislike of lords and kings ever since she was young. They were the reason for their exile. It had been a lord who had ordered her father to be killed. Instead, her father took her and hid in the farthest corner of the kingdom.
There was a rustling of clothes that diverted Kamila from her thoughts and she looked to the left to find the lord taking off his cloak. He moved to put it on her but she jerked away like a skitterish animal.
"What are you doing?" Her first words to him.
His eyes pointedly moved from her face and came to rest on her legs. "You are clearly not dressed in an appropriate manner befitting a young woman of your age."
Her cheeks flushed with something less than anger and more than shame. The lord moved forward and put the cloak around her. It still didn't cover most of her legs. She looked to the dead young woman whose gown came down to her legs. Kamila knew her dress was not a proper one for such a rigid morality structure as the towns possessed but she knew that the small villages were more free with these kinds of clothes. Their poverty overrode any shame. Kamila's father had done the best he could to dress Kamila up and she would not be ashamed of it.
She glared at the young man. "Spoken like someone coming from privilege."
She looked over his own clothes. The fabric seemed of the quality that didn't gather much dirt. Even his shoes were immaculate.
The lord's mouth opened as if she had surprised him and then he gave her a laugh. It was low and deep. Something unfurled in Kamila making her skin vibrate.
"You have a point. I am sorry for my insensitive words. But as you can see I have a number of men with me. Can't have them.." He searched for the right word as his eyes went back to her legs. "...distracted."
It seemed more of the men's problem than her own but she didn't hurl his cloak back at his face like she wanted to. Instead, she quieted down and listened to the far away voices of the men with the neighing of horses mixed within. She decided to wait it out. The lord had said that they had a big journey ahead. Which meant that they were not going to stay long. A small hope opened in her heart. They might leave and then everything would go back to normal. A flash of the dead man's body over her own moved through her brain. Maybe not normal but almost normal. The lord strangely didn't break her silence. She had a feeling that he was looking at her again.
"Sir, here is some water. For the young lady."
It was the youngest of the company. The man called Cyril. He was holding out water in a skin.
"Good thinking Cyril." The lord took the water out of Cyril's hand and held it out to her.
She stared at the water. There was no doubt she was thirsty. But could she accept anything from strangers?
It seemed thirst had nothing against strangers because Kamila took the water from the young man and started gulping it down. When she was finished, she held the water skin to Cyril. But instead, the young lord took the skin and started drinking himself.
She could see that the men with the horses were also returning.
"Now that you are better we can talk about what actually happened here while we leave."
They were leaving. Gratitude filled her heart and she almost slumped in relief.
A hand suddenly grabbed her arm. A horse was standing just a few feet apart.
"Come on up," the lord said.