Rest

Perhaps he had the right idea. Henry washed his hands off in a near by bucket of water, and began walking towards the Warlord's tent. His tent.

He shook hands with various well wishers as he passed smaller tents on his way to the center. Finally arriving. His tent was one of the larger ones, and had a real bed. He had never slept in a real bed, just sleeping bags or bed rolls.

He closed the door, striped as he stumbled towards the bed, and fell into it. It had been a long, exhausting day and he fell asleep.

He woke up hours later to the sound of rustling. Some was coming into the tent, but who?