Chapter 4

They had travelled about two hours when Simon spoke.

“Sir, why did you not wish to stay in the village? It’s a good place, the people there are alright. Nobody starves.”

Donald looked at him and smiled as he replied, “There are several reasons I didn’t wish to remain there. Firstly this far north gets cold in the winter. To be honest, I have had enough - more than enough - of being cold. The people in this area are caught between two warring lords. They send teams of robbers and bandits out to harass and destroy the others crops and villages. I am one man. I cannot fight two lords, and their armies. I wish to settle in a land that is warm all year round, not too hot in summer, and not freezing in winter. A land where a man can raise his family without looking over his shoulder every two seconds.”

“I would like that, too. It feels as if I have been afraid all my life. As long as I can remember, I have been put upon. After my mother died, I was lucky that Toby took me in and let me work the stable. At least it gave me a roof over my head, and a little food in my belly.”

“Well, there is that, I suppose. Now, however, you will have to train and train hard, every day. Do not worry that you are not big and strong yet, that will come in time. In the meanwhile, I will train you to utilise the skills you already have. Being small, you will be quick and agile. These are the skills we will start with.”

They stopped well before dusk and set up camp. Donald then started training Simon.

“Someone your size cannot hope to win against someone my size using strength. Quite simply I’m a lot stronger than you. You, however, can use your speed and agility to your best advantage.”

He retrieved a small practice sword from his baggage. “Here, use this. It is light and you should be able to wield it easily, however it will not stop a blow from my sword, so don’t try. The first time you do in battle either it will be knocked straight from your hand or will break, either way you’re a dead man. The way you will need to fight is to dodge and weave. Never be where your opponent wants you to be. However, we are getting ahead of ourselves, here. First you must learn your forms. These are the basic moves you need to know, before you even try to spar. We will work on these now.”

This they did, that night, and every night. They travelled for three weeks, with the weather gradually getting warmer. They had avoided the main towns in the warring lords’ territories. Donald did not wish to become embroiled in their conflict. The villages they did pass through were poor, and the people were suspicious of strangers. They knew they had left the area of conflict when the villages they passed seemed a little wealthier and the people more friendly. They had just crested over a rise when Donald called a halt.

There just ahead was a farmers wagon. One of it’s wheels was broken. The farmer, with what Donald took to be his family, were struggling to replace it. All their belongings were piled up beside it.

“Hello, the wagon. Could you use some help?”

The man looked up. He had taken logs and a large branch and was trying to lever the wagon up as his wife and son struggled with the wheel. He saw Donald, who was obviously a warrior, and his young squire. He realised that if this man wished him ill, he would already be dead.

“Yes, yes we could. Fell into a rabbit hole. Broke the wheel.”

Donald looked at the wagon. “We need to chock the frame, otherwise it could fall as we change the wheel. There is a fallen tree over there, we could cut a length and use that. Have you an axe?”

The man nodded and went over to get his axe.

“I thank you, stranger. My name is Paul, this is my wife Miriam, and our son Peter,” he said as he handed Donald his axe.

“I’m Donald, and this is my squire, Simon.”

Donald took the axe and very quickly cut through the fallen tree. Very soon they had the length of trunk they needed. Paul, his son Peter and Simon all heaved on the branch. The wagon lifted up. Donald quickly shoved the trunk into place. They then changed the wheel and removed the trunk. Donald and Simon helped them reload the wagon.

“What are you doing out here?” Paul enquired “We don’t see many warriors out this way, those we do see, we try to avoid, as they tend to be in the employ of either the Baron or the Lord. They never seem to have our interests at heart. They are either raiding us, burning, raping and looting; or they ‘requisition’ what they need. Stealing in other words. They never pay for what they take, and if you go to the Baron for payment you are just as likely to end up in prison. We’ve had enough, we’re heading south. I’ve heard that there is land to be had if a man is willing to clear the forest.”

“We’re going that way as well. I’ve decided to retire from the mercenary business, and see how I fare as a farmer. I was raised on a farm so am no stranger to what is required. I wish to go somewhere that is warm. I have had enough of being cold.”

“I can sympathise, there! I too will not miss having to break the ice in the washbasin each morning during the winter,” laughed Paul.

“No, I too will not miss that,” chuckled Donald

“Would you care to travel with us, as we seem to be going in the same direction?” asked Paul, this earned him a sharp look from his wife.

Donald noticed this and smiled as he said, “Madam, if I willed you any ill-intent then your husband and son would already be dead. I am Donald, formally of Gilbert’s Honourable Mercenary Company. We do not rob, rape or pillage. We know that we are unlikely to take anything from this world. All we have is our honour; which, I must say, I will defend to my last breath.”

Looking suitably admonished she replied, “I apologise, Sir Donald. As my husband has already told you, the only armed men we’ve seen, are those out to rob us. You can understand that I am naturally wary. Of course you are welcome to join us, if it is your wish.”

“If it would be no trouble then we would be glad to accompany you.”

“Good, well that’s settled then. Let’s get going, we’ve lost enough time as it is,” Paul said.

The two boys looked at each other and smiled. They were about the same size and assumed they were about the same age, which they were.

It was starting to get towards evening when thoughts turned towards making camp. Paul turned the wagon into a likely looking camp site.

“This should do us for this evening.”

Donald smiled and shook his head. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

“Well for starters it’s visible from the road, also if you look, there are several trails leading off into the trees. This tells me, without really checking, that this is what is known as a ‘honeytrap site.’ Prepare a good looking site for the unwary traveller, lie up in the woods, and wait for the camp site to be occupied. Then, in the middle of the night, come along and either just kill them and take what you want, or,” he told them, looking directly at Miriam, “take what they want and then kill or enslave them.”

“Where do suggest we camp?” asked a horrified Miriam.

“Well, with the wagon it is difficult. However, there will be somewhere just up ahead. We’ll travel for another half hour at most. I’ll find us somewhere safe.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Donald found a suitable site. It was in a small clearing out of sight of the road. They had to traverse a small stream, but that proved no real problem. They immediately got to setting up camp. Soon a fire was going, and the smell of cooking wafted to the noses of five hungry travellers. Before they ate, Donald and Simon went through their forms. Very soon, Peter was pestering his mother to be allowed to join in. Donald smiled.

“I think a stave might be a better weapon for you.” He saw the disappointment on the lad’s face. Donald smiled. “I know what you are thinking. Remember, swords are very expensive.” He drew his sword and showed it to the boy. “This sword would buy you a good farm. Can you see how the steel seems to flow and have patterns in it? That is how it is made. Different hardnesses of metal are forged together by a master craftsman to create such a blade as this. This sword cost over five hundred gold crowns. I am a warrior. I have to have the best, because my life literally depended on it. What do you think would have happened to me if my sword had broken in battle? I have seen it happen. I have seen men, good men, die because of these things.”

The boy’s jaw dropped open at this. Five hundred crowns was an absolute fortune. He knew his father had only managed to get three hundred crowns for their farm. That was for the farm, and all their animals! Maybe learning how to use a staff made more sense, especially if he were to learn from a master! His father also felt it would be a good idea for him to learn as well, much to his wife’s consternation!

They chose suitable branches, trimmed them up, then started. Donald went over to his horses and retrieved his staff. He first showed them how to balance themselves. At first Peter thought this was boring. This was until Donald showed him just how fast and dangerous he could be. He asked Peter do copy him. Peter tried, but soon fell down.

“Balance, Peter, balance! It is everything. Without it, you are lost. For now, however, I think dinner is ready. We can continue, tomorrow.”

The food was very good, if fact it was some of the best Donald had tasted for some time.

“Miriam, that was the best food I have tasted in a very long time. It really was superb.”

“Yes, it was!” echoed Simon “It’s much better than either Donald or me can cook. His cooking leaves a lot to be desired. Mine’s not much better.”

They all laughed at this. Before they settled down Donald went round and set traps and alarms. He showed them all what he was doing and explained why.

“When I camped with my men we were a large group. We would enjoy the luxury of having enough men to be able to post sentries or guards. However, sometimes we have to move about in small groups. We always set these to warn us of any unwanted nocturnal visitors, either from animals or men. It’s saved me on more than one occasion, I can tell you. Now, if you do need to relieve yourselves during the night, use this tree, here.” He pointed to a large oak tree on the edge of the clearing. “Do not go beyond here. If you do, you might not live to regret it.”

Their eyes widened at this. They resolved to do as he had said. As they all settled down for the evening Paul turned to his wife.

“What do you think of our travelling companions?”

“I think that we have been very fortunate to find them, or them to find us. He does seem to know what he is talking about.”

“That he does. Let’s face it, we lived in that village all our lives. If it hadn’t have been the constant threat of bandits, especially after what happened to your sister and her family, we would never have left. Yes, I think we have been very fortunate indeed.”

Just before dawn Donald awoke. He gathered his weapons. He woke Simon.

“Stay here and keep the others here. I’m just going to check on that honeytrap we spotted, earlier. I have a bad feeling about it. I won’t be long.”

With that he disappeared silently into the woods. He made his way towards the camp site. Sure enough, what he thought was a family had camped there. He carefully scouted around and soon found four men lying in wait. There was one man on watch, but he looked like he was asleep. As dawn broke the men made their way into the encampment.

He watched as one of them slit the throat of the sleeping guard. They crept forward they drew their knives and made to stab their victims. Donald nocked an arrow, drew his bow, then shot the nearest one to him. He quickly nocked another arrow then shot the next man. The first man fell onto his intended victim who screamed in terror at the sudden awakening. This woke the entire camp. By now, Donald had another arrow nocked and this was soon embedded in the chest of the third bandit. The last man looked round and saw his comrades fall. He took to his heels and ran for his life, disappearing into the trees.

There were eight people who had been sleeping. Two were women, the others were two older men and four younger men. They all jumped to their feet in confusion. The two women clung to each other in terror at the sight that greeted them. The six men looked around in confusion and then in consternation as they realised what had happened. One of the older men recovered first. He looked around, taking in the scene before him and realised just how close they had come to being killed as they slept. One of the men was looking uncomfortable, staring in horror at the dead men at his feet.

Of the two women, one Donald would say was in her late twenties, and the other was late teens or early twenties. Both women were attractive, but the older woman was a beauty. She was of medium height, and had long blond hair with a curvaceous figure. The younger woman was darker with a slim athletic figure. The six men were more varied. One was older. Portly would be a polite way of describing him. He was late forties, to early fifties, and obviously used to the good things in life. One was the same age as Donald. He had the look of a soldier. One younger man was a soft looking young man who looked like he had never done a hard days work in his life. The other three looked like they were used to working outdoors.

“Sir, I must thank you for saving us. I am Lieutenant Alan of Lord Blackmore’s personal guard. This is Lady Isabella Blackmore, and Brianna, her maid. Bishop Rathbone, and his man-servant, Carlos. And my men, Henry, David and Sirius. This is our guide, Michael.”

He looked around and snarled, “Where’s Sirius? He should be on guard. If that lazy bastard’s asleep again, I’ll kill him!”

“No you won’t, the bandits have saved you the trouble. I am Donald, formally of Gilbert’s Honourable Mercenary Company. I have now retired, and am travelling south. Tell me, sir, I am curious; where are you bound, and what made you wish to camp here in such an obvious honeytrap?”

The lieutenant looked horrified at the news of his man’s death. “Damn. I told him to stay alert. We are bound for the convent at Riverdale. The Lady Isabella is to reside there.”

“Be confined there, more like,” Isabella snapped.

The Bishop gave a strained smile, the smile never reaching his eyes. “Our guide here said it was a perfect place to stop. We, of course, made the mistake of trusting him.”

“Tell me, why do you call it a honeytrap?” Lady Isabella asked.

Donald smiled as he replied, “When you’ve travelled as much as I have, you to tend to notice these things. The clearing is just too close to the road, it’s too inviting. You can also see the trails leading off into the woods, evidence of people regularly moving off that way. I would hazard a guess you found a good supply of dead wood just behind those trees? We call them honey traps as they catch the unwary, Milady.”