12. Moving Camp

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Chapter Twelve:

Moving Camp

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"Ten-thousand? Are you sure?" Leopold said, his face showing its lines now that it was daylight.

Upon their arrival in the camp and the sharing of their news, Harriet and Garreth had promptly been ordered to clean up and rest with orders to be up before dawn. It was since dawn that they had been in the King's tent, and Harriet's hungry stomach was more than protesting the amount of time they had been there without food.

"As sure as we can be. It's a rough estimate. It might've been more than that," Garreth answered, reclining back in the chair provided for him.

"And they've captured Mr. Filbert and Mr. Codey?" Both Harriet and Garreth nodded. Harriet watched as Leopold sunk lower in his seat, his fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. If Harriet had thought Leopold had looked stressed before, it was nothing compared to now.

Taking in his appearance, she felt a pang of sympathy for the man. He had a lot resting on his shoulders before, and now they'd added to it with their news. However, Harriet knew that given the choice, Leopold would always rather know what he was dealing with. He was big on taking all facts into consideration when he made decisions.

"Is there any way we could rescue them?" Harriet asked, breaking into whatever Leopold had been thinking. He looked up at her and frowned.

"Short of winning the war, no."

"But we can't just leave them. Who knows what they might've done to them already," Harriet said doing her best not to sound like a petulant child. Garreth cleared his throat, getting both Leopold's and Harriet's attention.

"I'll just see myself out. I haven't had breakfast," Garreth said, and neither Leopold nor Harriet said anything as he left, both too focused on the subject at hand.

"You're right, we don't know what they might've done to them already. For all we know they might already be dead," Leopold reasoned, but his words did nothing to assure Harriet. Instead she paled. Of course she had known that their death was a possibility, but that didn't mean she wanted it to be all but confirmed by him.

"Yes, but they also might not be," Harriet protested. "Isn't saving their lives better than just- just leaving them?" Harriet's voice cracked towards the end, and whereas Leopold had been as stiff and regal as ever throughout their conversation, he seemed to soften as he saw how pale she was and heard the way she talked.

"Mr. Greenfellow, if I could guarantee their safety, the rest of my men's safety, or even the certainty that we will win the war, I would. The only thing I can promise is that if everything turns out well, after the battle I will personally help you look for your friend the best of my abilities, but that is all I can offer."

Harriet nodded, her jaw clenched not from anger, but from holding back her instincts to cry. She didn't know what she was more emotional about, the fact that even Leopold thought that Oliver might be dead, or the fact that despite that he still offered to help. Harriet straightened her posture. She needed to snap out of it. She was acting like Clara.

"What if I was to go and save them?" Harriet said. "I wouldn't take anyone else with me, not if you didn't want me to." As soon as her words passed her lips, Leopold's eyes snapped up to stare at her sharply.

"You want me to let you go save your friend? Even though I know it leads to certain death?" Leopold questioned, though Harriet had a feeling it was rhetorical. "No, absolutely not. I'll not have you throw your life away on a slim chance. Use your head. What do you think will happen if you get caught?"

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