The men looked expectantly at Beatrid, and she gave a dismissive wave of her hand.
"He's right," she said, and went to gather up the bo staff and crown, once again securing the troublesome item to her belt. The bo staff, however, came in handy; with her still feeling woozy and faint, it doubled as a decent walking stick, and she leaned against it as she followed the group out of the bath house.
The cold air hitting her wet clothes drove her breath right out of her, and with a shiver that went from her head clear down to her toes, she braced herself against it. She picked up her pace so she could fall in beside Gherrick, and for what would probably not be the last time, she gave him an odd look.
Maybe it was the injury, but she still couldn't wrap her brain around how cooperative he was being, and part of her half expected the other shoe to drop.
The other half of her wanted said shoe to drop.
Then it would feel less like leading a lamb to slaughter.
"I've got him," she told the other soldiers, and pointed to each in turn. "You two, take the back, and you, take front watch."
When they moved to obey, she leaned in close. "What're you playing at, anyway?"