Chapter 3

As I moved into the forest with its dawn shadows, I was comforted that the sun was at least operating in a familiar predictable pattern, rising in the East, setting in the West while the compass needle wanted to orient North with the same cardinal points I was used to. Though it seemed less about magnetic north and more about true north, so perhaps a bit of magic was helping the direction-finding process.

I was following the toe dragging trail of a large buck deer. It picked easy passages avoiding the swamps and thickets as it sauntered along. It stayed away from the road, except on two occasions, when it moved to the road verge to observe some activity.

Both times, the buck had stood watching an ambush site along the road. I slowly and carefully cast back and forth across the road, as I surveyed each position. The myriad tracks, cigarette butts, and tiny mounds of tobacco from emptying their pipes behind rocks and downed timbers showed where men had waited impatiently. In one place a log was at ready with ropes tied to it for men to drag into the road, halting the traffic in their crude killing zone.

Taking out my map and stretching and manipulating it had a large-scale representation of each ambush site where I drew notes and diagrams on the map. After that I was less about sightseeing and more vigilant to avoid falling into a surprise attack of my own. From then on the crossbow was in my hands as I ghosted along that game trail and across several small streams.

I started with the ringed broad head in the crossbow hoping that any potential assailant would be wearing leather armor or light mail, both easily breached with a greater wounding potential from that broad head.

By noon I still had not reached the inn. I eased into a shady spot with lush grass and just sat resting against a tree with my pack beside me while I drank water from my canteen chewing ruminatively on an energy bar. Briefly I closed my eyes, listening to the sounds and rhythms of the woods, hoping to hear a discordant note before stepping into a trap.

Checking my pocket watch, I roused myself, throwing on my pack while again grabbing my crossbow. I stood for a moment listening, then moved out along the game trail, still headed south. I was consulting the map more frequently as I approached the inn.

Finally, after a rest stop to tie my sheepskin vest to the pack in the afternoon's warmth, I was about a quarter mile from the inn. Moving to the road's margin, I placed the pack beside me, then sat down cross-legged to watch the inn, using my telescope to look it over carefully before I stepped out on the road.

The telescope was a beautiful multi-section brass instrument, with leather covering and leather caps at both ends. An extended leather hood prevented reflection from the glass disclosing my position.

I saw a fortified two-story building, with a stockade wall on one side surrounding a yard, probably the stable area. A low stone wall on this side seemed to be designed to keep back the woods. Fortification surrounded the inn's roof, and I saw heads peering through its loopholes. Two armed men sat on the porch looking up and down the road.

After long careful study, then easing back into the woods, putting the telescope away, I took the bolt off my crossbow, lashing the crossbow on my pack. I moved back along the trail until I was around a small bend. Out of sight of watchers of the inn I stepped on the roadway approaching the inn walking confidently down its center.

There was no hue and cry. I walked up to the porch greeting the two sentries. The larger, with plate armor and a halberd staff, welcomed me saying in a loud friendly voice, "Greetings, welcome to The Inn in the woods. I am Trevor, captain of the guards. Come in; join us; be welcome."

I nodded, smiling, saying more softly, "Hello and thank you. I am Brock, a hungry, tired traveler."

I shrugged off my pack while Trevor responded by ringing a small bell on the main door's lintel. The door opened immediately and two lovely young ladies spilled out onto the porch. The blonde hastily grabbed my hand while the brunette reached for my pack. The two of them pulled me through the door, into the common room.

The common room was cavernous, with high beam ceilings. Three stone fireplaces for heat and light were along the outside wall. Oil lamps with glass chimneys at intervals along the walls, and hanging by long chains from the ceiling, gave a soft yellow glow to the room. Long wooden tables with benches filled the floor space, with a bar spanning the full length of the room.

On this end of the bar, it turned six feet to meet the wall, and this alcove held the chalkboard with the prices and service offered. A fat, jovial, bald-headed man was waddling swiftly toward us, calling out a greeting. I was calmly studying the chalkboard while I waited, when I suddenly realized the two young ladies were kneeling next to me. Before I could react, the innkeeper reached over the bar to grasp my hand saying loudly:

"Welcome to my inn. I am Luther, innkeeper. These are two of my slaves, Cori and Ria. How may we serve you today?"

I saw that lodging was one or three "c" with food another two "c" and a bath one "c" and "companionship" was two "c" I made an assumption the lower case "c" meant coppers. I decided on food and bath with my room. I dug into my pouch and found my coppers placing six in a neat stack in front of Luther saying:

"Thank you, Luther. My name is Brock. I'd like a room, food and a bath, please."

Luther smiled happily, then he frowned, saying, "Brock, gentle sir, this is too much money. A private room is three coppers while sleeping all together on straw in the big space next to the stable is but one copper. Both include food here in the hall, while the private room includes a bath, and use of one of my house slaves during your stay."

I must have looked confused, because Luther continued filling the silence with his carrying voice. "There is little traffic through our forest with recent events. The inn is almost empty. I am somewhat surprised you chanced it. Still, we serve a meal, six until eight, for everyone in the Inn."

Then Luther looked down at the two kneeling girls, asking, "Yes, Cori what is it?"

The blonde quickly answered, while pointing at the pack I was still holding by the strap.

"Master, Brock is a hunter."

The brunette, Ria turned my pack slightly so Luther could see the pair of Darby handcuffs hanging on the outside. Luther clapped his hands happily as he exclaimed, "Oh, excellent. A hunter. No wonder you have no fear of the forest denizens two or four legged. I'm so very glad you're here Brock sir. We have a selection of the papers you need posted by the stable entrance, please have Cori or Ria show you at your convenience, good sir. Brock if you could sign our book first please."