Chapter 14: The Bait Is Taken

Rescuing the Damsel Katja Analyst went much as planned, better than expected, but it took a while.

Pēteris and Maggie traveled in the vicinity of the trio, usually sweeping the more violent and aggressive ambushers from the road well ahead of them. He let his beard grow against future need of a disguise. Truthfully, he was happy to be free of shaving with a primitive razor and often-cold water, even when the razor was wielded in Maggie’s skilled hands. They took care not to be associated with the healer and her company, but were usually where they could observe or be summoned in need.

When camping at night, they prepared a camp, cooked and ate their evening meal, and after dark, near the campfire, they made up their bedrolls to appear occupied. They slept a little outside whatever space would be lit by the dwindling fire. Pēteris would place a pad at his back against a tree, and sitting Maggie between his legs, he would wrap the two of them in his cloak. Pulled tight against him, Maggie would sigh and usually managed to entice at least one of his hands to cup a breast. They spent the nights as contented woman and conflicted man.

Typically, the pair entered a town a day ahead of the trailing trio, and by setting themselves as ‘easy’, they thinned the jackass population before Robyn and Miriam approached. Alone at night with ‘her man’, sleeping in the same bed, Maggie was even happier.

Robyn was seated in the rear of an inn’s common room, seeing and treating the various ailments brought to her by a procession of ill and injured from the town and its surroundings. She, Miriam, and Les had spent the past six weeks moving from town to town with Robyn holding ‘healing’ sessions at inns and, occasionally, taverns.

Les and Miriam had become very adroit at spotting impending trouble and positioning themselves to address it. Their skills, coupled with Robyn’s surprising willingness to use her knife and sword at close quarters, added to their purses as much as Robyn’s fees for healing.

As the afternoon drew to a close, locals began arriving for their evening meal. Robyn was gathering her supplies when a thin, exceedingly ugly man approached her. She had seen him before but not recently. “I hear that you have a cure for cock burners,” he said in a low-pitched voice.

“I have a treatment, not a cure,” Robyn answered, looking up from her seat.

Stepping back, the man pulled his sword and threatened, “Hastert wants it. I’ll take it...”

Whatever he might have added failed as his sword wielding hand was lopped off by the downward sweep of Miriam’s sword. Les grabbed the remaining hand and forced the attached arm up the ugly man’s back, and Miriam whipped out a cord to fashion a tourniquet above the stump. The two frog-marched their prisoner to the fireplace, and Miriam used a red-hot iron to cauterize the wound. The man screamed and fainted.

Les took the opportunity to relieve the wannabe robber of his weapons and purse. The man wasn’t rich, but his pinches would pay for that night’s lodging and dinner. When the man woke, Robyn handed him a mug of unwatered wine and told him, “You’re alive because I have something for sale, and I assume Hastert is a customer. You can tell him that I have a treatment for sale. If he wants to buy, I’ll sell him two weeks’ worth for a conch so he can try it out.” She added, “It’s complicated, and he’ll need instructions. I’ll be here tomorrow.”

She stuffed the severed hand in the man’s belt and sent him staggering out the door.

The common room had been completely silent as the occupants watched the drama unfolding. The show being over, the noise level rose to somewhat above the norm with discussions and speculations. New arrivals were regaled with increasingly embellished versions of the afternoon’s event, and the trio was the object of many stares.

The evening’s stew and bread were above average, the watered wine was actually quite tasty, and their bed was very comfortable. There was one problem, not soon to be resolved. The afternoon’s violence had Pēteris’ ladies very horny, and with their quarry near, it would be days before they could scratch that itch with Pēteris. As was his custom, Les slept on his pallet across the door.

The morning was rainy, cold, and totally dreary. Pēteris and Maggie dragged in during Robyn’s midmorning session and hired a room. They called for a bath and disappeared upstairs, ignoring the healer and her supplicants. In an hour, they reappeared dressed in dry if not-so-clean clothes and inquired of the innkeeper if their clothes could be washed and dried that day. Receiving an affirmative answer, they sat by the fire and ate several bowls of the ubiquitous stew.