Chapter 1: Meeting

Meeting

Meadow slipped from the side door of the old barn. Her clothes were in tatters. The five men had been using her and then abusing her for several hours. They had finally taken a break for a couple of rounds of drinks, as if they had not had enough already. Seeing her chance, Meadow had crawled from the stall, where they had left her, and slipped out the small side door. She limped, as quickly as she was able, across the barnyard to the screen of bushes and trees that separated the barnyard from the road.

She was not fast enough. One of the men had returned and found her missing. They were soon hot on her trail. A trail easily seen as the blood dripped from the whip cuts on her back to mark her passage. She had only gotten to the middle of the road when she tripped and fell. The men were already in the scrub. She had risen no more than half way, before the men were upon her, hitting and kicking her.

The man in black clothes had observed Meadow limp slowly from the scrub at the side of the road and fall from 200 yards away. When the men appeared a few short seconds later and started to punch and kick her, he reached behind him to remove his favorite weapon from the saddlebags there. It was a ten foot bull whip. In the dim glow of twilight, he was sure the men had not observed him. He dropped the lead rope to his pack horse. It remained in place. He urged the large powerful stallion that he rode to a quick gallop and shook out the whip.

The men being distracted by punishing the girl were not aware of the horse and rider bearing down on them until they were nearly there. Their pummeling had driven Meadow to the far side of the road. The men turned as a ragged group to see who was approaching. The horse reared up as it careened to a quick stop, knocking the first men down. It’s hooves came down on the next man’s shoulder, and he crumpled to the ground, shoulder severely damaged. At the same time, the man in black had been busy with the whip on those further from the horse. He was an expert in its use. The remaining men felt its bite all too quickly. This, in addition to the horse, was enough to scatter them and send them fleeing into the surrounding countryside, dragging their injured friends with them.

Man and horse, meanwhile, were quieting down a short distance from where the quick action took place. William dismounted and patted the big horse on the side of his neck. He was an excellent companion and thoroughly trained. He withdrew several sugar cubes from his pocket and fed them to the horse. He was well worth the cost of this small luxury. He then coiled his whip as he considered the bundle lying in the road before him.

Meadow lay in the road moaning and crying. She knew that the men had stopped hitting her, but in her dazed state, she was unable to tell why. It came as a total surprise, when a strange voice asked,

“Can you sit up, girl?” Meadow moaned again as she felt someone try to lift her to a sitting position. That simple movement brought a sharp pain to her chest and back. She screamed and passed out.

“Well this is a fine kettle of fish,” I said to no one in particular. “A dark road, an unconscious, injured girl and no light.” Well, I couldn’t do much till I got more light and could see what to do. She was out of it for now, so leave her that way. I hoisted the girl onto the pack horse that I had retrieved. I settled her across the pack saddle and remounted my horse. There was supposed to be an inn not far from here on this road.

I came to the inn about sixteen minutes later. Luckily, my horse could keep to the road by himself. I had been too busy keeping the girl from falling off the pack horse, and I had not been able to pay much attention to the road.

There were lights outside the inn. Upon arriving, I called for the stable boy. He appeared, running, in a few seconds. He was a youth of around twelve years of age dressed in ragged clothes and showing brown hair and a toothy grin.

“I want my horses properly cared for, brushed down, and fed oats and hay. Water them also, after they cool down. I will check on them later.” I tossed the boy a couple of copper coins. They were caught in mid-air.

I eased the girl from the back of the pack horse. By the flickering exterior lights of the inn, I could see that the girl’s back had stopped bleeding but it was an unholy mess. She, luckily, was still unconscious.

The innkeeper appeared at the door and was taken by complete surprise at the sight he beheld. A man in black clothes was carrying a near naked and beaten girl in his direction.

“Good evening, Master... ?” the innkeeper started in a questioning voice. It was then that he thought he realized just who this was.

The innkeeper that I saw was a man of average height - 5’-8” or so tall, 200 pounds, balding with a soiled shirt and apron on. What there was of his dark colored hair was unkempt.

“Good evening, innkeeper. I require a heated room for the night for myself and this poor creature,” I told him.

“I’ll not have a dead girl in my inn,” the innkeeper asserted.

“Listen carefully innkeeper for I shall say this only once. I am the Royal Executioner. I have been on the road all day. A short time ago, I interrupted a bunch of ruffians assaulting this girl on the road. I am not in a good mood, and you are not helping any. I am just about ready for a hanging party and will not be too particular whom I choose. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, my Lord Executioner,” the innkeeper replied, with fright in his voice. “A heated room for yourself and your guest. Will there be anything else, my Lord?”

“Yes, a bottle of your cheapest spirits. I must clean this girl up. Also later, dinner for myself and the girl.” The innkeeper showed me to to an upstairs room. It had two beds and a wash stand. There were two chairs and a small table along one wall. There was a small fireplace on the far side of the room.

“Will this do, my Lord?” the innkeeper inquired.

“Yes, thank you, innkeeper. I will need the spirits and several pitchers of water. Some clean rags or towels if you have them. Also, have someone bring my saddle pack up from the stable.”

The spirits and rags arrived in short order. They were brought in by one of the serving girls. She blanched when she saw the girls back. She ran out crying. The saddle pack arrived a short time later. The bucket with water arrived last.

I placed the girl on the bed closest to the fireplace. The fire was lit by the maid who brought up the water. She had not even dared to look at the girl.

I soaked one of the rags, the cleanest one I could find, in the water and started to clean the girl’s back. Though still unconscious, she moaned when I touched her. I had just finished cleaning off her back when there came a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I shouted.

The man who entered was obviously the local sheriff. He was 5’-9” tall, 185 pounds, brown hair and eyes, about thirty-six years old. He was wearing the approved blue uniform of a local law official. He also had a large set of handcuffs and leg irons.

I stood as he entered. What the sheriff saw was a man of about 5’-10” tall, 175 pounds, brown hair, blue eyes, and about thirty-nine years of age. I was dressed in my customary black and wearing a sword. My pistol was sitting on the table.

“My Lord, it really is you! Rupert, the innkeeper, said that he doubted it. I saw you in the capital two years ago. No one could forget you, my Lord Executioner,” the sheriff said.

“I appreciate that, Sheriff. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“My Lord, a short time ago, one of the local men came to see me. He said that he and some of his friends had been accosted by a man in dark clothing on a large horse on the North road. He said one of his friends had been injured by the horse. The man had used a whip on them, and he had then gone to the inn. There is a large horse down in the stable, and the innkeeper said a man in black had this room,” the Sheriff stated.

“My, my,” I said, “the complainer appears to have left a few facts out. The main fact being the girl on the bed here.” So saying, I stepped aside so the sheriff had a good view of the girl on the bed. He had only been able to see the bottom half of her body covered in a blanket before. His eyes went wide when he saw the condition of her back.

“Who would... ?” he asked, stunned.

“Can you identify her?” I asked. He moved closer to look at the girl’s face.

“Why that’s Meadow! She is a slave girl on one of the dairy farms. How did this happen?” he asked. I related what I had seen. The sheriff seemed confused. “This didn’t all happen in a short time on the road,” he stated.

“No it didn’t, and from the condition of her mouth, pussy, and ass, it required quite awhile. Also,” and here I drew the blanket back to show the marks between her thighs where she had been branded with a hot iron, “this didn’t take place on the road either. Now, if she were a free woman, you would have a nice case of rape and mutilation to handle, Sheriff. But, you tell me, she is a slave girl. That puts a new light on things. The Royal Law on slave girls has been not bent but badly broken. That places it in my bailiwick, because, trust me, the Queen WILL find out about it. Two of the maids here have already seen her. The Queen will know in a week to ten days. I need to get this cleaned up, and get to the business I was headed for. So now, I need to finish up on - what was her name - Meadow.”