Chapter 75: Exchanging Favors
As Lara stepped out of the makeshift infirmary, the cool December air wrapped around her, its cold fingers seeping through the thin fabric of her sleeves. The scent of damp earth and smoldering firewood filled her lungs, momentarily clearing the exhaustion from her mind. In the distance, the flickering glow of a bonfire cast long, dancing shadows across the camp.
Aramis stood waiting for her. His back was straight, and his posture was as composed as ever.
"The Lieutenant had work to do, so he left long ago," he said, his voice steady and deep. He extended a small bundle wrapped in dried leaves. "Here, your ration."
Lara took it and carefully unfolded the wrappings, revealing a meager meal—a coarse slice of bread, a wedge of cheese, and a few strips of dried meat.
She sighed, the simple offering reminding her of the soldiers inside the tent. How could they regain their strength with such sustenance? They needed warmth, nourishment—not stale rations.
She sat beside Aramis, chewing on the hardened bread, each bite requiring effort. Washing it down with gulps of water from the canteen, she let her gaze drift across the camp.
The senseless war had stolen so much from so many, yet the ones who waged it sat in their gilded halls, untouched by the hunger, the blood, the loss.
The quest for power and glory was truly terrifying. How many lives had already been sacrificed for the ambitions of men who would never lift a sword themselves?
She reached for her backpack, fingers tracing the bamboo tubes secured at the bottom. Twelve in total. She pulled the empty one and noted the diminishing supply with a quiet sigh. Soon, she would have no choice but to use vinegar and boiled water like Doctor Elir. It was better than nothing, but she needed a better solution.
Perhaps she should find a way to extract ethyl alcohol in larger quantities efficiently. If she did, she could save more lives.
The thought lingered as she slipped back inside the tent. The doctor lay resting in the corner, his breathing even. She knew exhaustion clung to him like a second skin, so she did not wake him. Instead, she turned and left, making her way back to her tent with Aramis trailing behind.