Night had fallen, and the water had grown colder.
Wearing a battered wool cap, Barnett held a torch in his left hand and an ox's lead rope in his right, guiding the animal and the cart behind it through a dark, damp cave. Cold drafts blew past him.
"It's freezing."
Barnett instinctively hunched his shoulders. He wanted to pull his uniform tighter around himself, but neither hand was free. All he could do was sigh and keep leading the old ox onward.
"Why does the colonel need a hot bath this late at night?"
Barnett was an auxiliary soldier, specifically responsible for cooking at the fortress... well, for heating water.
Bolas Fortress had a dedicated water-fetching detail, but they had worked hard all day, exhausted themselves, and gone to bed early.
So when the colonel suddenly decided he wanted a bath, Barnett, his orderly, had to lead an ox down into the water-fetching cavern beneath the fortress himself.
The fortress had a cistern, but the water in it was strictly rationed. After the colonel used some of that precious clean water, Barnett had to bring the ox down that very night to replenish what was missing.
Otherwise, the thirsty rank and file would be looking for someone to take it out on tomorrow.
Barnett dared not gamble on whether those soldiers would be reasonable. He was just a poor auxiliary, a nonprofessional soldier drawing half pay.
Better to put himself through a little trouble tonight and come down to fetch the water.
After walking for quite some time through the cold, deathly silent, winding cavern, Barnett finally heard the burbling of water carried to him on the chilly draft from ahead.
His weary spirits lifted, and his steps quickened despite himself. Only the old ox behind him protested with loud