Chapter 15

In which answers be given, but more questions raised.

The bard drank the last drop of ale and tipped the empty jack upside down, even held it over his head that he might view the bottom of the jack lest there be a drop undrunk. So it was that his listeners did stampede to the ale-keg, that the tapman prime the pump and the bard renew his tale to the ending of it, and the merry audience might list appreciatively and hear more of the adventures of Hal and Leo!

A fresh jack having been filled for his pleasure, and emptied, the bard was prepared to continue. But his audience realized that the evening of tale-telling had come at a cost. Clearly weariness was nigh to overcoming the old man, and ‘twas time to wrap up the tale.

The bard rallied a final time, then continued.

“‘Twas a conundrum! Great was the disrupting of Trader Lord Padraic’s schedule, and more was yet to come.

“Out upon it!” said he. “The dryness of the wasteland, even ferocious beasts, fractious horses and unruly men, all are planned for! Yet did I lose horses as well as time while smiting, spiking, and gutting strange warriors in outlandish garb, and now my camp is overrun with damsels! What am I to do? How shall I profit therefrom? The men waste time and dawdle instead of working, nor do they attend their duties as such low laborers are meant to do! They neglect the care of mine horses, instead spending their time disporting with the ladies to the failing of their duty!

“And what am I to do with the damsels? They know not work, being of the sort who uselessly live off the sweat of others! I might encourage them in mild fashion with mine whip, but all would complain most bitterly did I stripe them I warrant! And how am I to feed them? ‘Twas not part of my planning! Onward must we go, for in all the tiny villages behind us there be not fodder nor rations to provide us what is needed! And how am I to pay for everything?”

‘Twas a riddle indeed, fit to vex the gods!

Then spoke Hal; “Good Trader Lord Padraic, know that we have taken chests and booty, aye, even sheep and goats, that may help with thy problem, even enough to see us well-provided with provender unto the end of our journey through this dry desert waste! Know ye, that ye shall have a share of all! One share for you, one for Leo, and one for myself, so say the men, and the other five shares shall be divided equally among the stout warriors who defended the caravan!”

“What, a share, say ye?” Padraic asked, astonished. “Booty shall I have, and chests that I may share in?”

“Aye, my word on it!” exclaimed Hal. “This very night we shall open the chest-covers and see what contents dwell therein! For the nonce, let us round up the sheep and the goats, fill our kegs and water-skins, and depart from this place ere the flies grow sated with landing upon dead enemies and come to devil us, the victors!”

A merry campfire was built that night and a goat roasted for their supper. The chests of booty were brought forth to the firelight that all might see what lay therein. Even the damsels, who shared not because they had not fought in the battle, showed uncommon interest! Belike ‘twas their upbringing, because nobles and such are ever grasping and greedy, and when bangles and beads belike be discoverable, then is the interest of any true damsel piqued!

Joyful were the cries from the pack-men when the first chest revealed gold! True, ‘twas in coin stamped with a visage strange, the man being garbed in outlandish headgear and sporting a beard, but perhaps a merchant could be found who would exchange such for real money, well-handled and but lightly clipped, of the sort as is commonly traded among civilized people.

Other chests held more gold, while some contained strange cloths and finely made shoes, aye, and strings of pearls and other jewels of uncommon fineness waited within one of the chests.

Rich indeed was the booty taken; only the last chest disappointed.

“Here, now!” said disappointed Lord Padraic. ‘Tis filled to the brim with crystals of no seeming value! Ordinary they are, albeit larger than usual, some having five sides and some six, even a few with four; and the ends be pointed, though some be flatted and beveled as nature formed them! The colors have no appeal to men of taste, being sometimes blue or red, but unlike to what is sought by kings and counts! I give oath they would never grace ring nor yet crown, and only the poorest of men might pass a leathern thong through them and hang them about their neck! Nay, cast them aside that they not burden us on our trek through the desert!”

“Crystals, say ye?” Hal asked. “I own to a fondness for such, for do I not carry a remnant of just such a crystal about my own neck? Let us not discard them! An they burden not our caravan, I shall instead essay to carry them in mine own pack for the nonce! Perhaps I might find use for such.” So did Hal speak, and none contested his claim.

Shrewd had Hal become, belike from observing Trader Lord Padraic! None noted how his ears had perked when ‘crystal’ was said!

The wine flowed free that evening, and the company made merry, but soon weariness began to assert claim. Then did the damsels seek their bed-rolls, and find naught. “Here, now! Bed-rolls I see, but only for the lowest pack-men!” did Lady Kendra complain. “Dost expect noble damsels to sleep in the sand, soft though it be?”

Then did Leo scratch his beard, and think, in obvious manner, that a solution might come to him. “Know ye, m’lady, that sleeping on the sand has great danger! Aye, my word on it!”

“Danger, say ye?” asked puzzled Kendra. “How now, danger? For have we not walked upon the sand, even with toes a-stretch, and felt not a thing?”

“‘Tis the great desert scorpion ye must beware of, m’lady,” Leo explained, “and betimes even the sand-snake! Know ye, such are seldom seen for they avoid the light of day, being scritchy and pinchy by nature and best accustomed to darkness that their evil aspect be not viewed!

“The scorpions, know ye, slip beneath one who sleeps upon the sand, and wriggle most strangely, and oft do they bear off a maiden, that they might pinch her with their long, sharp claws and belike, sting her with sharp and venomous tail! As for the sand snake, ‘tis a tale not for the ears of such as yourself, m’lady. For know ye, they slip into cloth-wrappings and insinuate their tail into places most private! Particularly fond of damsels they are, for love of the hidden places they find wherein they might hide! No, no, m’lady; sleeping upon the bare sand hereabouts is fraught with danger!”

“How now, goodman Leo?” asked one of the damsels. “Would seek to cozen me, in the seeming of one such as tumbled from the turnip-wagon but a day agone, and without wit to discover the way to remount it?”

“Nay, m’lady,” denied wounded Leo. “Should you essay to sleep upon the sand, know that I shall be ever watchful for your safety! Should I espy you move during the night, perhaps in the manner of one being carried off by scorpions, know ye that I shall spring upon you instantly and hold you in place, lest you become a pinch-mat and sharpening-stone for scorpion stingers! Forsooth, my word on it!”

So it was that the damsels slept safely that night, and full many there were who found themselves in need of protection! And oft did the men spring to their defense, holding them tightly that the dreaded scorpions not bear them away to a fate not to be discussed among civilized people. Aye, the whole night long did the stalwart guardians serve the damsels, warding away the sand snakes; full weary from their efforts were they in the morning! But none stinted his duty, and as none of the damsels were carried away, at least not by scorpions, and if sand-snakes did seek to insinuate them into places privy betimes, yet were they removed that the damsels remain safe in the company of their new companions.

So did the company pass the night. Bleary of eye and weary of limb were all on the morrow, yet the caravan traveled on when next the sun did rise. For know ye, they had come nigh to the end of the desert and could now travel during the day.

Three goats and a sheep were cooked that night. Many among the company remarked upon the cool evening, which gave to all a hearty appetite; and naught but bones and skin remained on the morrow from the feast!

“Out upon it, bard!” expostulated the disappointed youth. “A camp filled with men and rescued damsels, and no swiving? What manner of men are these pack-men, that they not gobble up luscious morsels that have fallen into their clutches? That they not indulge most manfully, rending of damsel bodices, and lustily slaking—well, lust—upon them?”

“Wouldst reckon noble damsels to behave even as tavern-wenches or trulls, Lad? Wouldst even cast heroes such as Leo and Hal, who protected two damsels apiece during each night from being carried away, as mere bodice-rippers? For know ye, there were more damsels than stout defenders who had survived after the fighting, so that some heroes must e’re do double-duty! Fie upon ye! Such fierce men do see their duty clear and strive to protect maidens as come to their care, even several times should such protection be required during the course of the night, to the loss of sleep and weariness of muscle a-morrow! ‘Tis their honor that drives them, I warrant it!”

“Well, an ye would have it so, good bard,” grumbled the youth doubtfully, and it must also be said, disappointedly, “but I reckon ‘twould be hard, very hard, not to take low and scurrilous advantage of such damsels and innocent maidens during the night!” The bard quickly buried his muzzle in ale, and if he seemed to choke and shake, ‘twas only the ale, for perhaps a drop had gone down the gullet backward.