The water was cold against his face, neck and chest. Riding for several days took it's toll on his body. His face was covered in a thin veil of grime, dust and sweat from long days on paths in the sunshine. He also had several days worth of beard on his jaw. He rubbed it as he splashed the water on his face, shielded from the harsh sun by a tall tree. His mare stood a few paces away, happy to be free from burden and drinking deeply from the Medi River. Wearing nothing but brown breeches that had seen better days, Atticus stood and stretched his popping muscles and then slowly slipped into the cool water, closing his eyes and wading out until he was in danger of floating away on the current. He stood there a moment and then ducked his head, coming back up with a splash of water as he shook his long locks free.

He ducked back down again, blue eyes opening under the water to watch the fish darting to and fro. He wished he had a fishing rod, but most days, he merely hunted for his dinner. Resurfacing, he heard splashes and thunderous yelling coming up river from his comrades. They had decided to take a small trip here to bathe and it seemed as if they were having fun. He smiled to himself, wondering if he should join them. And then he heard the playful screams of women and knew that the answer was yes. Leaving his horse where she was, he treaded water around the little bend in the river, and saw the other men frolicking with several nearly nude women, and a large smile crossed his face. Today might end up being very great indeed.

Ciarda had abandoned her usual gown and trappings for a simple shift. The heat of the late Thiasan spring was nothing less than oppressive, and added to the dust and smoke of the camp conditions were miserable for wearing elegant gowns. The river's water had sparkled invitingly in the sunlight from the very first that day, and it was generally agreed by the followers that if there was a day to go bathing, this was going to be it. The very way the crickets were droning signified approaching heat, and the women headed to the river almost immediately after breakfast.

The redheaded woman had opted to leave her shift on as she plunged benath the surface, but not so much from modesty as knowing that the white fabric would be rendered nearly transparent from being soaked through. It would cling without giving everything away, and combined with wine-red hair gleaming with water and sunlight it was guaranteed to attract a few men down to play too. Sure enough it was only a few minutes before the girls had plenty of company, but for the time being the company only involved play. As much as men needed to slake their lusts, these were also facing a war...and laughter was nearly as important.

She caught sight of another young man stroking around the bend towards them, then grinned. Ciarda took a breath and slipped below the surface, kicking to him. The girl seized his ankle in one hand and tugged him under, a sly look lighting her eyes.

He felt like a snake, slithering through the wet and cold to reach something warm and yielding. He loved the company of a good woman, someone who understood that he was a warrior, that he had scars both internal and external. He wasn't an overly talkative man either, and sometimes it was hard to break down that barrier. Also, most of the women here already knew him, and while it made it easier to find a bedmate, he was easily bored by their tricks and charms. It was only a matter of time before women in general bored him. Haha. Perhaps not. He was treading water as he looked over his calvary-mates, watching them in all their supossed piousness as they flirted and kissed the whores. He wasn't the only man who needed a woman every now and again.

He felt something grab hold tightly of his ankle and tug him under. He was a heavy man, with muscle not being as easy to keep afloat as fat, he was easy to pull under the water, and it was a great deal of exercise that was needed to keep himself above water. Once under the water, he thought he saw something white float by and he resurfaced and turned, facing the sly smile of a woman. She was like a nymph, with her long deep red hair and that simple white shift clinging to all the curves a man would want to see. He returned her smile with one of his own, swimming towards her in a playfully menacing way.

" You tricky little minx...you just wait till I catch you. " He said, his voice, as always, was low and smooth.

The girl answered with a teasing smile, then flung out an arm and sent a wall of water splashing into his face. This man was handsome and strong-looking; which meant he was undoubtably rough as well....but also probably desperately in need of some company. Still, her broad grin softened into a secret smile for a moment before she laughed and kicked off the river bottom, darting away into the water. He'd have quite a chase before he caught her, and she wasn't about to let him win.

Ciarda put her face into the water and stroked away, merriment bubbling up in her heart. It was always so fun dealing with men the first time! They teased and cajoled and she teased right back but sooner or later, they came and were tamed one right after the other. She wasn't just a whore; she was a tamer of men and she thouroughly enjoyed herself doing it.

Ah, so this was her game. She was like a little nymph, full of surprises and silence as she splashed water at his face and swam away from him. He quickly reached out, only barely grasping at her retreating toes as she slipped away from him. He, too, kicked off the bottom, giving chase with a grin on his face. He watched as she swam, with every kick she gave, the hem to her shift rose high on her thigh, making it harder for him to concentrate on catching her.

Women were something of a mystery to him, for all that he knew of them intimately. Some were different, they reacted differently. Some were innocent, some played games, some thought that he was some sort of gentleman. That he would honestly try to woo a whore was a humorous thought. Whore's didn't need flowers and pretty songs to lay with a man, all it took were a few coins in her palm, but it seemed like recently, they had begun to get discerning. It was as a result of so many men being stationed here and they were growing fat with the money they were getting from the ranks. Now they thought they had the room to decide who they serviced and who they didn't. Not that Atticus had ever had a problem with getting into a ladies skirts, but it was damnable that they would ever turn away a young man.

He kicked after her, his brute strength sitting on the sidelines in a chase like this. He was stronger than her, but he was also bigger. Catching her would be no easy task, and if he caught her, he needed to hold her tight, so she wouldn't slip away again. Finally he caught up with her enough to grasp at her slim leg, which he pulled back towards himself, struggling to pull her tight against his chest as he smiled down at her, holding her strongly.

" It seems as if I have caught you...I believe you owe me an apology, or I might have to punish you..." He said, breathing hard as he struggled to hold her squirming and wet form still.

In the instant that the stranger's arms snapped around her, Ciarda decided that she did not like this man. He was holding her too strongly. He was too confident, too sure that he was God's gift to women. Too...entitled, that was the word. Ciarda had been a whore long enough to recognize the men who saw her as a toy and the men who saw her as a human being offering an appreciated service, and this soldier fit into the former category. But she smiled back at him and slipped a hand up to stroke down the locks of hair that straggled to his shoulders. Ciarda enjoyed the feel for a moment, then leaned forward to whisper just by his ear.

"...You want me to apologize for letting you hold me like this? I'm doing you a favor, friend."

She gave him an amused glance, letting her hand move to the back of his neck. "Soldiers these days. Absolutely no sense of gratitude."

All at once her grip tightened and she yanked him down with her, dunking them both back into the chilly water. He was strong indeed, but even a strong man had no defense against water going up his nose.

He should have known that she would be feisty. The red hair should have given it away. It seemed like the women with that hue of hair thought themselves entitled to more than they really were entitled to. It wasn't that he hated women, but he knew where they belonged in his life. At least at this point in his life, the only use for a woman was as something to play with and toss away. He didn't need a woman to cloud his judgment and have his children. He just needed someone to comfort him after days of being away from human kind. So when she told him that she wasn't going to apologize, he merely looked at her. She was one of those women who wanted to hear pretty words. He had none. But he did loosen his hold on her, seeing as how she was trying to slip away yet.

" You aren't doing me any favors yet. " His hand trailed down her arm and side, " I'll express my gratitude when you do something gratifying." He said, smiling slyly for a moment before he found himself suddenly dunked under the water, his surprise evident as he pushed her away and resurfaced, shaking the water from his face and wiping it away as he snorted. He looked up at her angrily before reaching out and grabbing her. He hoisted her over his head, tossing her easily into the water and laughing as she splashed.

" You let me know when you're done playing around little woman..." He said, laughing loudly.

Ohhh, she did not like this man at all. Ciarda held her breath as she plunged beneath the water, her eyes narrowing. She didn't consider herself a sentimental sort-it was perfectly fine if a man just wanted to get things out of the way without any fuss. What grated was the complete condescension she was getting. Who talked like that? Little woman? He actually addressed her as 'little woman?' This knight must have a pretty shoddy sense of humor.

She did not resurface, but stroked away underwater until she was safely at the bank. Ciarda at last rose out of the water and bent to wring out her hair, shaking it back over her shoulders. There were plenty of other men to play with. Still, she couldn't resist calling back to him across the river. "I'll do something gratifying when you show me two hundred in gold."

It was a warning as much as a snub; the other women would know to expect a misogynist in the young knight and with any luck would band together to charge him double. Handsome faces usually warranted a discount, but there had to be a personality to go with it...and here that was definitely lacking. Especially in her case, that was worrying. This type of man had sent her mother to her grave, and she'd rather lose a few coins than worry about that again. It was her career; shouldn't she enjoy it?