Pluto's Lake

Chapter 3: ...thou thinkest me as far in the devil's book

Devon
It takes a solid few days ride to get to Burgundy. Even riding hard. No Harry shouldn't be riding we're ignoring that. I have gotten him to wear the bandages the whole time, but I was forced to resort to trickery to accomplish it. I am truly the backbone of this bloody army. Fastolf, one of Harry's men, meets us there, having been spying in Burgundy for some twelve months.
"You finally cut your hair, Devon, looks awful," Fastolf laughs, embracing me even though I held my hands up in hopes that wouldn't happen.
"Yes, I noticed no I didn't cut it other things happened," I say. It was getting fairly long nearly to my shoulders. Now it looks like someone with a grudge and minimal self control got to set it on fire.
"Ah yes he finally looks like a priest," Harry says, idly, taking the bandage off as was the agreement. I know it drives him mad. But I just maintain that being dead would drive him more mad.
"God awful thing," Harry says, tossing away the dressing.
"Yes being dead of infection is awful," I say, while Porter nods.
"Fuck how'd you survive that?" Fastolf asks, wincing appropriately at the wound.
"It didn't pain me," Harry says, lightly.
"Dying of infection would," I say, quietly, because I'm sick of fighting him to keep him alive for his own good.
"I'm not going to be dead," Harry says.
"I don't know how you know that," I argue. We're standing here in the dark arguing now.
"You wouldn't be there," Harry smirks, before swinging an arm around Fastolf's shoulders, "Come now, where's this tavern?"
I stand there surprised.
"When he says, 'I'm not dying without you' what he really means is 'I'll not be parted from you even if I'm a bloody idiot, I'm your bloody idiot, and I love you'," Porter says, hanging back with me as the others walk on ahead into the dark.
"Is that what that meant?" I frown.
"Yeah," he says, "I promise."
"Does he know that?"
"Oh yeah."
"Why don't I?" I ask.
"Same reason I don't know what your bloody account books mean, now come on, before he touches something disgusting like a dog and then touches his face," Porter encourages.
"Oh god that's over he let the dog lick his face the other night—only that mastiff pup he lets sleep in the bed," I say.
"The mastiff pup that's bigger than you? How do you fit in the bed?" Porter laughs.
"We are working on the floor or at the table," I sigh, so tiredly.
"All right be coy whatever, you all know Cornwall's has a vested claim in my bedroll," Porter scoffs.
"I'm not being coy that's what we're legitimately doing the majority of the time," I say.
"What seriously?" He frowns.
"Yeah seriously I don't care, I'm bloody Flower of Devon anyway, I'm sure the King thinks I'm in his bed," I mutter.
"Well you are in his bed."
"I mean yes however, point being yes that is what we are doing, as a rule, we're working there's no time for frivolous entertainment," I say.
"Sounds boring," he says.
"Not to me," I say.
"No I know as I said to each his own. We tell you recently enough how glad we as a human race are that you occupy him in some capacity between midnight and three in the morning? Because we are, we really are glad," Porter says.
"Warwick paid me last week I collect every Friday," I say, flatly.
"I thought we quit doing that."
"Rate's doubled since he got hurt and drips blood places."
"He actually know you're doing this?" Porter asks.
"Oi, Harry, how much am I charging your staff to work your accounts through the night?" I call.
"Oh Jesus the Courtenay blood is thick," Fastolf groans. We ignore him.
"Ten pence a week per man, doubled since I got injured and sleep less," Harry replies, "Why? I think I should get a cut."
"You get a cut when you go a month without acquiring a new dog," I call.
"Fuck that," Harry mutters, walking on, "Why are we discussing this now?"
"Proving a point," I say, smiling.
"Jesus you two," Porter breaths.
"Your hair looks ridiculous," Harry says.
"I wonder why?" I say.
"You look prettier with it like that, seriously," Porter says, a bit quietly.
"Yeah I know why d'you think I was letting it be long?" I mutter. I don't do that anymore I don't need to smile and charm my way in places I do my jobs for fun or for Harry that doesn't require my beauty just my lying tongue.
"Maybe he likes you pretty?" He says.
"Five pence," I say.
"What?"
"That he doesn't look at me," I say.
"Done," Porter says.
"Harry what color are my eyes?" I call.
"Probably grey perhaps blue stop taking Porter's money," Harry says.
"He's being obtuse on purpose," Porter says.
"Yeah he'd do that," I admit, "He still doesn't look at me. I'll prove it. Harry, this isn't for money, it's in case I go missing, which eyebrow has a notch in it?"
"Left," Harry says, without looking back.
I don't have a notch in either brow. I look at Porter pointedly.
"Wow he loves you for who you are how did that happen?" Porter asks.
"He's selfish?" I say.
"I mean yes however, at least you know he's not keeping you for your looks," Porter says, "They're a bonus at least."
"I'm a bonus. He has to have the best of everything so he naturally picked me," I say.
"Don't let him rile you, he'd trade half of Lancaster and his right arm to get you back, mark my words," Porter says.
"Why?" I frown, "Why tell me that?"
"I don't think you know, and you probably should. And I'm a bit older than you. Every man has one thing that he wouldn't ransom for anything in the world," he says, "For him it's you. Even if he doesn't know it yet."
"No, it's his power, his name. He'd never trade that," I say, shaking my head.
"I wouldn't be so sure," he says.
"What's this talk for?" I ask.
"Oh I don't know we're walking into a dark dealing with a high chance of being ambushed. Just don't think you're expendable, Devon," he says.
"I'll hide under a table if fighting starts."
"That's really all I ask. He's a bloody handful and terror to half of Europe with you safe, I don't want to see him feral, I'd stand by him. Don't want to see it though," Porter says.
"Noted," I nod, watching Harry and Fastolf walk on ahead of us. I will hide and save myself. But not because I think he wouldn't be all right if I was gone. It's because I'm scared he would be perfectly fine without me.