Again?
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2016 by Old Man with a Pen

"Shit!"

"I didn't ask you to do that!" I said. The odd thing ... I was wearing leather ... kind of like a uniform. It came with a helm and a sword.

"Uhm ... this is true," she said. "Where are we?"

"What you mean to say is, Where did everybody go?"

"That too."

"That guy on the hill ... No! Don't look!"

She did.

"Damn it, I said don't look," I said.

"The one with the horse is coming our way," Wendy said, "Is that a spear?"

"I think it's called a lance," I said.

"He is definitely coming our way," Wendy said. "That looks sharp." She was looking at my sword.

It was a pretty big horse and it disappeared behind the wood between us and the hilltop. There was a guy on foot still watching. Shit! Six more horsemen!

"You better figure out what you did!" I exclaimed.

"Me?" Wendy said.

"Yeah," I said.

The lance lowered, the horseman thundered out of the woods. Now that he was closer, I could see the glint of polished armor. At least I didn't cut myself with the sword. The horseman went between us and I stepped aside and cut the right fore leg off the horse. That created a mess.

By the angle of the riders ... excuse me ... former riders helm it was pretty easy to see he wasn't getting up ... ever.

This created consternation on the hilltop. There was considerable shaking of fists, clashing of metal against metal as the riders slammed gauntlets into breastplates. If I didn't know better ... but it really looked ... No ... rock paper scissors? Never.

They sorted the situation out and the next horseman began to gallop down the hillside. Serious mistake. The next in line trotted down and disappeared behind the woods.

"How are you coming with getting us 0utta here, Wendy?"

The horse charged out of the woods ... no spear ... lance ... whatever. This guy was slinging a two handed sword about. He had to drop the reins to handle the sword. The horse ... no longer under control ... spotted a tender morsel off the path and made an abrupt left. Three down.

"I got it!" shouted Wendy.

I have even money that says the dead were reported killed by, a) A dragon, b) A witch, or c) English invaders. I vote for the dragon.

"Where were we?" Wendy asked.

"Let's go to the library," I suggested.

Hazebrouck didn't have much of a library. But, they did have an amateur historian.

"What are you trying to find?" Jeffery Count Landon was a Brit ex-pat. And he was OLD ... really, really, really old. A prisoner of war taken in July,5th 1830 during the Battle for Algiers ... as he couldn't give a good account of himself. Transferred to France and paroled until the Algerians surrendered, Paris ordered his release ... but he stayed.

"Interesting or unusual happenings in the neighborhood during the middle ages," Wendy suggested.

"There is one in particular," Count Landon said. "Let me look."

The pile of documents and old manuscripts was enormous. They were stacked in leaning piles of parchment and linen.

"No ... don't come in," the Count said. "I know ... let me see, Ah ... yes." He pulled a document from the middle of a pile and read, "1066," he traced a finger and said, "The gist of it is this: Three young knights were killed mysteriously while journeying to the port ... port of ... can't read it ... to join ... ah ... here it is to join William, duc of Normandy. Yes ... yes ... party of seven horse with men at arms ... dragons ... but one said a well formed witch in pants ... does that help?" He took off his glasses and polished them on his shirt.

"Perfect," said Wendy.

"May we make a donation to your research?" I asked.

"No ... it's not necessary. My family remits every month ... as long as I stay out of England ... and I have my particular friends ... no no I need nothing."

"Thank you so much," Wendy gushed.

"Oh ... there's a tapestry ... at the church. You should look. You might find it interesting."

Indeed. The dragon had Wendy's face. The priest even commented on it.

 
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