Lady Dragon Riders - Chapter Two

THE LONE TRAVELER CHRONICLES
Book Two – Lady Dragon Riders

Chapter Two

Instead of traveling in the few daylight hours remaining, they quickly found a clearing deep within the thick forest to rest. Since they did not know the lay of the land, and where or when villages might be spotted, it would be better to look for one during the early morning hours of darkness. Two large dragons with riders could easily be seen and word would rapidly spread.

As soon as they landed, Analia suggested they change into common dresses, well made and appropriate to a member of the merchant class or very low nobility, at least from the perspective of Camalund fashion. From their packs they chose long slim gowns with sleeveless woolen tunics and undergarments, and placed wimples in their pockets to cover their hair. The gowns were made so they could slide them up when riding the dragons or horses to prevent them from interfering with their movements and the linen undergarments ran down to their knees for modesty. It was a garb that many ladies chose to wear instead of riding the awkward new side saddles which many had difficulty using.

Before daylight the next morning they found a small road and followed it to the outskirts of a large village. There were at least fifty small thatched huts and one room houses grouped around the green on both sides of a narrow street. There were several blacksmith shops, stables, a pub or inn, and a mill situated on a small stream east of the village. A parsonage or church dominated the southern end. This was clearly a prosperous town of several hundred people, probably under the protection of a local Lord.

They landed half a mile from the village. “I’m sorry we cannot remove the saddles, Whiff,” Analia stated, “but we can’t very well enter the village carrying strange saddles and we may need you to respond quickly if things do not go well.”

“That’s all right, Little Lady,” Whiff replied. “Me and Cali will hang out in the forest. They have some wonderful vegetation here that I haven’t seen in a long time, very tasty stuff. You take care and watch out for these strange humans.”

Analia and Elise removed several things from their packs, including their money and small personal items. Analia carried her quarterstaff, which was not uncommon for both men and women, and Elise concealed her dagger belt beneath her short woolen tunic. They timed it so that they entered the village shortly after daybreak, and headed straight for the inn.

The inn was empty at this time of the morning, except for one half bald gentleman sitting in the corner near the window. The innkeeper was somewhere in the back as they could hear noises of banging and muttering. It was a typical inn, very similar to many they had frequented in Camalund or Dragon Hill, with a short bar in one corner and a dozen tables and benches arranged on the floor for customers. Spices, hams, and smoked sausages hung from open rafters providing a comforting smell and the delicious aroma of baking bread floated out from the back room. The man sitting in the corner glanced up, gave them a quick and unimpressed once over, and then returned to something he was writing on an ancient wax tablet.

Analia banged on the counter to get the attention of the innkeeper. A few moments later, a short heavy set man with a fluff of unruly white hair walked from the back room wiping his hands on an apron half covered with flour. He had a small bulbous rose colored nose, with flour decorating the end, and sparkling blue eyes and apparently was in a jovial mood. He stared at them for a moment with a curious expression.

“Wot can oi do for eu ladies?” he asked, inspecting their well-to-do attire. “Bit early in the mornin’ for young ladies ta be aboot?”

“We’d like a room and something to eat,” Analia replied with a half-answer and generous smile, laying her purse on the counter so the man could hear the clunk of coins.

The innkeeper quickly replied with raised eyebrows. “MacTavish is me name, most call me Mac, bread’s almost done and oi ‘ave a good barley stew with chunks of ham ta break eur fast. There’s also cheese, butter, and apple jam if it pleases ya. Ta drink oi ave some light ale, sweet wine, and even some fresh goat milk me missus got early this mornin.”

“Takin’ forever, you are!” the man at the corner table growled. “Man can’t get a decent meal in a hurry around here.”

“Pay nae attention ta him,” the innkeeper winked. “That’s Father Ambrose, the local Priest, Arch Deacon Brisbane is due ere today ta check the church registry and coffers so e’s a bit on edge. ‘E eats ere every mornin’ for free, ‘e does. ‘Eu can ave the best room in me inn, first one at the top o’ the stairs on the roight. Ave eu more luggage? I can ave me lazy, no account hostler get them fer eu?”

“Unfortunately our horses were spooked early this morning and ran off with the bulk of our luggage and leaving us to walk the rest of the way to the village,” Analia replied play acting the part of a despondent and woeful maiden. “We will take a bit of everything to eat and we also need to purchase new mounts if you could be so kind as to direct us to an honest dealer after we break our fast?”

The gleam of additional profit lit up the innkeepers face. “So ‘appens oi ave one o’ the best stables in these parts,” he eagerly stated. “Oi ave a good selection of palfreys, some hackneys, and even some gentle jennets for the ladies, an me hostler takes great care o’ them, ‘e does.”

Analia certainly didn’t want a gentle jennet, she and Elise were excellent riders and the very idea of riding a sedate mount was quickly dismissed. Elise was schooled in the fine art reading good horseflesh and Analia was certain she could find two spirited palfreys. The innkeeper was out to make a fast sale, one minute the hostler was of no account, the next he was a great horse handler. He would soon discover that he was not dealing with two itinerant simpletons.

After eating until they could not possibly down another bite, they placed their bags in their room and came back down stairs to find the innkeeper anxiously waiting to take them to his stables. The stables were located on the edge of town not far from the large church. They were introduced to a young man, the hostler, who could have been no more than five and ten years of age. He was tall and lanky with an abundance of straw colored hair, a pug nose, and the largest ears they had ever seen. He was dressed in a simple homespun tunic and wore a ragged straw hat.

As it turned out, the innkeeper did have a good selection of horse flesh. Elise walked around and inspected each animal in detail, her composure neither approving nor disapproving of each animal she was examining.

“Those two jennets in tha far corner are perfect fer young ladies,” the innkeeper suggested, pointing to a stall holding two sad looking mares. “Real gentle they be.”

“One has a swollen pastern and is weedy, the other going lame in her right foreleg,” Elise replied. “We want those two dark male palfreys in the second stall. They seem like they have a bit of spirit and are in good shape. They have strong withers, stout flanks, and solid hocks. They’re also clean-legged with a solid girth and clean frogs. The one on the right is a bit undershot, but nothing that would interfere with his ability, both are decent horseflesh.”

The innkeeper was a bit shocked at her ability to spot both good and bad mounts, but he did not argue the point. They dickered for half an hour or more and finally settled on an agreeable price. Although Analia did not know the average prices in this strange land, she was certain the innkeeper got the better of the bargain. He had no qualms about accepting Northmen’s coin, as he called them, which told her that the Nordlanders did a lot of bartering here. For another half hour they bargained over saddles and other gear.

As soon as the innkeeper left with a broad happy smile on his face, Analia and Elise cornered the young stable boy. Although he was far from being a vast well of information, he may know a bit about the rules and customs of the land they were in.

“We’re travelers from a distant land,” Analia smiled. “We know very little about your kingdom and customs; would you be willing to tell us about them?” She and Elise used their feminine charm and wiles to seduce the youngster into talking, a silver coin also helped to convince the young man to keep their conversation to himself.

“Wat eu wanna know?” he shyly asked.

“Everything,” Analia replied. “Tell us about your customs, laws, and the nobles, anything you can think of.

“Well, we live in Hope Town ere,” he stated. “We are under the liege o’ Sir Graydon, who owes liege ta Baron Blackstone, who is the vassal o’ Earl Montgomery, who is liege under Marquis Cornwall. That be as high as oi can think, ‘cept for the King, King Norman.”

For the next hour or so they drew all the knowledge they could from the young boy, their heads swimming with all the new titles and information. Back in their homeland they were accustomed to knights and lords, and kings and queens, but none of the in between titles. The boy oddly pronounced Ser with an I instead of an E, Sir, something they must get used to.

As they were leaving the stables, a large group of soldiers walked pass them carrying another soldier on a make-shift stretcher. The man was bleeding from a wound to his leg where the broken off shaft of an arrow still protruded. They wore no armor, except for boiled hide jerkins and half helms, and they carried round shields with the emblem of a falcon on them. They also wore surcoats of a rusty red color with the same emblem of a falcon embossed on the front and back. A short man with a tonsure walked behind them in a ground hugging cassock wringing his hands and staring at the ground.

“The Vintenar,” the stable boy whispered. “They must ave run into some outlaws.”

“Vintenar?” Elise asked.

The stable boy coyly smiled at her ignorance. “‘E’s in charge of twenty men. They be shire levies pressed into service by Sir Graydon. Me friend Thom is one o’ them. Oi ‘opes to join them when oi reach me next year. The man behind them is Arch Deacon Brisbane.”

They carried the wounded man to the inn instead of the church. Obviously the innkeeper served as the local apothicarius or medical man. Analia and Elise followed. If there were outlaws or bandits about, they needed to know of it. The Vintenar, or Sergeant, as Analia dubbed him, ordered most of the men to remain outside while two of them carried the wounded soldier into the inn, closely followed by Deacon Brisbane.

Inside the inn they laid the wounded man down on one of the tables. The Deacon walked over to the Priest who got up and bowed then offered the man a seat next to him, pushing his mug over for the man to drink. The sergeant called for the innkeeper to bring water and linen to clean the man’s wound. Analia could see from the location of the arrow shaft that the wound was not life threatening as no major arteries were near the entrance angle; it was lodged in solid muscle and did not appear to be very deep.

After splashing the wound with water and feeling around inside the entrance with his forefinger, the innkeeper told the sergeant to grab hold of the shaft and slowly pull it out. The arrow shaft came out quickly showing a bodkin point attached, had it been a broad head there would have been much more damage to the tissue. He then poured a powdery substance on the wound and wrapped it with a torn strip of linen.

“’E will be good as new in a few days,” the innkeeper told the sergeant with a smug grin. “Thank the Lord the outlaws used cheap bodkins instead o’ broad heads. Were it a large band?”

“A good fifty horsemen,” the sergeant replied. ”They stole the Deacon’s cart and donkey and rode away as soon as we formed a shield square. They hit us just on the other side of Lidlow Point as we were crossing the stream.”

“When is Baron Blackstone going to send cavalry to deal with these vandals?” Arch Deacon Brisbane stated casting a sharp eye at the sergeant. “The Church has been victimized far too much by these brigands and the Bishop will hear of this. All my records and supplies and a good amount of Church money was in that cart.” He nodded for Father Ambrose to follow him and left the inn in a huff.

“A mug of ale,” the sergeant ordered the innkeeper. “Have your boy take some out to my men also, they’ve earned it today and put it all on Sir Graydon’s charge. Chances are Sir Graydon will cashier the lot of us for failing to save the greedy Deacon’s money.” He took the warm seat where the priest was sitting, looking as if he planned on a long stay with plenty of ale to nurse his anger.

Analia and Elise walked over to the table as two soldiers helped the wounded man out the door. “May we join you, Vintenar?” Analia asked, pointing at a bench across the table from the man.

The soldier made to stand but she signaled for him to remain sitting. “Geoffrey,” he replied with a wide smile. “Call me Geoffrey, Ladies. It would be Sir Geoffrey had I not been born in the wrong bed.” The man appeared well educated and exuded confidence. He was tall with sandy colored hair, a slim aquiline nose, and a generous mouth. He was well built and was quick with a smile, a handsome man in any woman’s point of view.

A bastard, Analia thought. Plenty of those running around. “We could not help but hear you were ambushed by brigands,” she stated. “My cousin and I are heading east early in the morning and we are hopeful you can advise us of the areas to stay clear of.”

“Were loikely the same outlaws what ran ur ‘orses off this mornin’,” Mac added from his position behind the bar. “Eu ladies should wait for an escort o’ cavalry before endangering eurselves traveling alone.”

“They’d be sitting here in your inn for weeks,” Geoffrey answered. “Baron Blackstone is with His Majesty in Londinium and can’t be bothered with the likes of a small band of outlaws. He glanced suspiciously at the two young ladies but said nothing.

“When His Holiness, the Bishop gets involved and ‘e will, wot with ‘em robbin’ the Deacons, the Baron will send a squadron of cavalry oot to round ‘em up.”

“When are you returning east with your soldiers?” Analia asked. “We might be able to ride along with you.”

“Sorry, Lady,” he replied in a regretful tone and curious glance. “They’re not soldiers just shire levies with a smattering of training. We’ll spend the night here and head northwest in the morning. We have a patrol schedule to keep to and will not be going back east for several weeks or more.” He signaled the innkeeper for another mug of ale. “You have a very unusual accent. Are you from up north where the Picti live?”

Analia had no idea who the Picti were or how they spoke, but she had to tell him something. He was a man tasked with protecting the shire and she did not know how high his judiciary authority went. “Our father is a salt merchant,” she finally replied. “We followed him most of our lives on his trading routes and must have picked up our unusual pronunciation from growing up in so many different places.”

“Lot of salt merchants these days,” Geoffrey surreptitiously returned, “also, lots of spies pretending to be merchants. With the King planning a campaign against the Picti, we never know who the real ones are. Even King Philip has spies all over the shires now days.”

The short geography lesson the stable boy had given them was nowhere near enough to provide her with a broad picture of the realm they were in. She only knew that the capitol was in the east and it was called Londinium. She had even forgotten to ask him the name of the kingdom. She was taking a risk even talking to Geoffrey. While the uneducated villagers, including the innkeeper, might not question their presence in such a remote place, it would be much more difficult to dupe an obvious leader of his education and background.

“We have purchases to make if we are to leave on the morn,” She stated nodding for Elise to follow her. Thank you for your hospitality, Ser.” Should have said, Sir, she thought as they left the table.

“Soldier was suspicious, wasn’t he?” Elise whispered as they walked towards the open shops in the village.

“Very suspicious,” Analia replied. “It may be better if we left this afternoon instead of waiting for the morning. He will be in the inn all night and it will be impossible to avoid him. Many of the questions he may ask we may not be able to answer. Let’s purchase what we need for the road, pack our mounts, and advise the innkeeper we have changed our mind and will not require a room.”

“The stable boy said the next town east was half a day’s ride,” Elise replied. “We’ll tell him we wish to catch up with our father’s caravan which is traveling east. We will be safer among his company; a merchant always has hired security when on the road.”

After they made their purchases and loaded and saddled their mounts, they returned to the inn to pick up their small travel bags and pay their tab. Geoffrey was still sitting at the same table nursing another pint of ale and the innkeeper was slicing off slivers of smoked sausage and cheese and adding them to a plate with half a loaf of bread on it. Elise went up the stairs to collect their belongings and Analia strolled over to the bar.

“We’ve decided to leave early,” she stated “There’s too much daylight left to linger around here and we are anxious to catch up with our father’s caravan to the east.” She laid her money bag on the counter so the innkeeper would know she was ready to pay.

“Ye nae slept in the rooms, me Lady” Mac replied. “I canna charge eu. Remember me inn when you talk with others and tell em MacTavish run’s a clean an friendly place.” He raised the small platter of cheese and sausage indicating Geoffrey should come and get it. As he slid the platter towards the edge of the bar, he accidently pushed Analia’s purse which fell on the floor, spilling half the contents.

Geoffrey was there before she could bend down and he reached to pick up the spilled coins. He whistled at the large number of gold crowns and his eyes fell on a magnificent ring made of solid gold and precious gems. It was the ring Analia’s father had given her. She was to present it at the appropriate time to the rulers of the new land she was exploring, advising them that the Empire of Angalund wished to establish diplomatic relations.

Geoffrey’s eyes lit up as held the ring out to inspect it. “This is worth a fortune,” he stated. “It has the seal of a great ruler on it, a signet ring.”

Analia stood in shock, her heart beating rapidly. There was no way to explain why or how she possession of such a small treasure, she had placed it out of sight in her purse to keep prying eyes from seeing it.

Geoffrey handed it to her and bowed deeply. “I believe this belongs to, Your Ladyship,” he stated picking up the platter of food and returning to his seat. He knew she was not what she pretended to be but he was clearly gentleman enough not to press the issue, only royalty would own such a precious item. She was obviously traveling incognito for reasons best left alone.

Analia suddenly noticed Elise standing at the top of the stairs, her hand beneath her jerkin reaching for one of her deadly daggers. She shook her head and turned to the innkeeper. “We will most definitely let others know of your generosity and fine establishment,” she smiled. She turned and slowly walked toward the door, nodding at Geoffrey as she and Elise left.

When their steps faded in the distance, Geoffrey sat at the table munching on the bread and cheese. His mind was in a vortex of indecision. That the girl was royalty, he had no doubt, and she could not possibly be the daughter of a salt merchant. He and his patrol had been on the east road for days and never encountered a merchant caravan. Why she was traveling in hostile country with only a young female companion, he could not fathom.

He was uncertain if he should borrow a mount from the innkeeper and tag along as their protector or let them risk being caught by the outlaws. To do so would mean deserting his post and Sir Graydon and Baron Blackstone were not exactly merciful men. He was already in the lowest posting he had ever held, due to a spat he had with a slimy lordling. He slammed his fist down on the rough table.

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Lady Dragon Riders - Chapter Three  (13+) The adventures of Analia and Elise continue in a far off land. #2073665 by Oldwarrior