Chapter 3: Rescued Maiden

In mid-morning, following a week of dreary weather, they came to a crossroads with a small village, large enough to have an inn-tavern-livery combination, a smithy, and a small store. Along each arm of the crossroads were several small cottages – nothing more. But small as it was, the stench was huge.

Upon entering the familiar inn, Charles greeted the innkeeper and the serving wench by name and inquired after rooms for the night. “We have only the largest left. Another party straggled in and, hoity-toity, took the other two,” the innkeeper replied. “The two ladies required a room, and their escorts took the second. You can see their horses behind the stable.”

“Good that they left the biggest room. It has two large beds, as I recall?” Charles asked, “And you can stable our horses?”

“Yes to the first, and of course to the second,” was the reply. “Les, it’s good to see you and Maggie again. You are traveling without the healers; are they well?”

“They are, indeed,” Charles replied, “but we have been asked to provide escort to this traveler – Monty by name and his servant Autumn. And though you saw her but once, you might remember little Sarah who traveled with us?” Charles wanted to get through the pleasantries and get settled. He was dirty and growing hungry.

Monty nodded, and Sarah though clad in boy’s clothing, curtsied when the Innkeeper introduced himself, “Pleased to meet you, and yes, I remember Sarah.” Turning to Monty, “My name is Tudor. Welcome.” He turned back to Charles and told him, “The tariff remains one pinch each for the room with breakfast, one pinch for dinner with watered wine, or two pinches with ale. Stabling the horses will be four pinches for the lot, or two pinches each for oats and my lad to comb and curry.”

“You don’t happen to need a horse or two,” Charles asked Tudor. “We seem to have acquired an excess in the past few days. They came in handy, but we could part with one or two. We also found some weapons and other items that might interest you enough to barter.”

Tudor laughed when given a synopsis of the two ambushes and told them, “I might take a horse or two with tack in trade for room and board, and if the quality is enough, I could probably add in a resupply of victuals. I’ll have my lad get busy, and we can talk details when the dirt and sweat have been removed.”

“That sounds good enough to me,” Charles told him, and handed Tudor a conch to hold as security of payment. “We need our clothes laundered and hot baths. Please have your bathhouse made ready. You have two tubs, I remember correctly?”

“Laundry, two tubs, five baths it is. Done and done,” answered Tudor and he called out to the kitchen for water to be heated.

Freshly bathed and dressed in their last clean clothes, the five travelers seated themselves in the common room for their mid-day meal. Stew, bread, and cheese – in large portions – were placed before them, along with a pitcher of watered wine and mugs.

They were well into their meal when two large, well-dressed men approached them. “We understand you have horses to sell, and we have need of four,” one of them stated without introduction. “They look well-used. I’ll give you two pinches apiece for our pick.”

“They are no longer for sale,” Charles told him. “Certainly not for that pittance and not to you for any price.”

When the angered speaker started to draw his sword, he found four crossbows pointed at him as a woman’s voice rang out, “Hold! Malcom! Cease! Now! Now, I say!” A small red-headed woman stood with hands on her hips.

She marched up to the fuming man and slapped him. Then she turned to the now rising five, and told them, “My father sent this boor and his lackey to fetch me from my aunt’s and bring me home. I think he was hoping the time with Malcom would ‘bring me to my senses’ so that I would marry the toady.” She stomped her foot and continued, “The toady, here, didn’t have the sense to bring adequate horses or supplies, and now he seeks to rectify his stupidity by robbing and cheating honest folk.” She ran out of breath.

She directed her attention back to Malcom, “Go sit over there. If these folks will have me, I’ll join them.” She turned back and introduced herself, “My name is Ayesha, and my cousin who will join me shortly, is AlvaBeth. You heard Malcom’s name. He hasn’t bothered to tell me the name of his lackey, and I care not a whit.”

When both Monty and Charles motioned, she plopped down between Sarah and Autumn, ignoring Malcom, who glared and stomped over to another table. Before there was a chance for conversation to start, a harried looking woman entered the common room and glanced around. Seeing her new companions turn to look, Ayesha followed and said, “Oh, it’s AlvaBeth,” and she motioned the newcomer to join her.

AlvaBeth was a handsome woman, in her late twenties or early thirties, tall with dark curly hair, dark red lips and a full figure. When AlvaBeth was seated, introductions were given around, and all had full plates and mugs before them, Ayesha continued her story between bites, chews, and swallows. Clearly she was upset and needed relief from her emotional burden.

“Malcom has been pressing my father since I first started becoming a woman. I’m not sure if it was me he desired or my dowry, but he has been obnoxious,” she told them. “I finally came upon the escape to my aunt’s, pleading a longing to see her and my cousins. When I refused to return, my father sent him to fetch me.” Ayesha threw her thumb over her shoulder. “Fetch me!”

“Malcom and his lackey arrived with a letter from Father, and my aunt was obligated to honor his demand that I return,” she sighed. “She did have the forethought to have my widowed cousin accompany me – almost as dueña – and I think that thwarted my father’s and Malcom’s plan to ruin my reputation. Leaving me no choice in marriage, you see.”

“I won’t have him!” she fumed. “I’m ready to be home to give Father a piece of my very angry mind. But I will have to endure Malcom for at least a week for that to happen.” She smiled, and said, “Now let’s talk about you and more pleasant things.”

Now fully understanding the reason for Malcom’s demands and Ayesha’s need for supplies, Monty offered, “We have extra horses that we would be happy to sell to you. There are also some traveling necessities. You are welcome to look to see if they meet your requirements.” He explained the circumstances of their acquisition.

After the meal, the two women examined the offered largesse, and directed Malcom to pay the agreed upon price. He grudgingly complied, all the while giving the traveling companions evil looks.

In the morning, they found their new friends had already departed. They continued with their exercises and kata, then entered the common room. While eating breakfast, a driving rain began, and they decided to delay their start until after it ceased. After another hour, they were ready to set out.

As they were mounting, Maggie said, “We should have killed those two men. It would have been justified, but now we have to be watchful for them wherever we go. Not good. Not good at all.”

She was correct in her thoughts, but not exactly as she would have anticipated.

As sometimes happens, the heavy rain had been somewhat local, and after a while, they rode out of the mud, into damp, and subsequently dry travels. Had they left when the other party departed, their horses’ and their own legs would not be mud spattered. As it was, the gently rolling – not really hills – let stretches of water gather at the bottom where one slope met another. Mud – water – mud – misery.

Monty pondered on the primitive world he had worked to join – if only long enough to earn a child. Chaos was pleasant enough if one could ignore the horrendous smell of its towns and the absence of decent plumbing. A good mechanic could remedy the latter, and the underlying Monica was certainly a good mechanic.

Then there was the possibility – no, probability - of sudden violence and death. Monty weighed that against the subtle and not so subtle wounds from the ‘polite society’ of Cassandra. He decided that there was a distinct advantage if one could quickly discover and permanently eliminate those who wished to harm. He decided that, for him, there was a balance that he could live with.

He wondered that there were not more ambushes on this stretch of the journey. He supposed there were plenty enough, but as he thought further, he realized that, a given territory could only support a certain amount of predators before all the prey was gone. The remaining killers must turn upon each other or starve.

Monty’s analytical mind played over the ‘problem’ and decided that if one could eliminate the wolves from a territory – then prevent others from moving in – one could be reasonably secure and raise a family. He began to understand on a more intuitive level, Pēteris’s farm, his extended ‘family,’ and the overall dynamics surrounding his home on Chaos. Monty – Monica – found she liked it. She liked it very much.

With damp and mud-caked clothing, it was a miserable ride. Their party ate the midday meal as they rode, stopping only to water and rest the horses. They hoped to reach a good camping spot early enough to bathe and clean the mud from their horses, but the afternoon was waning with nothing suitable on offer.