Bloodless Knights (17 page)

“What
about that woman who sang to the dragon?” Jadorion asked, referring to the
dragon tamer. “She could be the witch who done this.”

Asher
answered, “Maybe she did do this, but how? This is not possible and it’s not
right. Something is definitely amiss in this bloody land!”

I
nodded, “Let’s press on to St. Anthony. I want to leave here immediately.” We
all returned to the backs of our steeds.

Our
horses stepped gingerly around the muck, and then galloped toward St. Anthony,
leaving only a trail of dust. Not one of us looked back at the burning
graveyard.

The
city of St. Anthony was a gated fortress. I couldn’t see over the walls, but
having been there before, I knew it was much greater than my father’s kingdom.
The Ventor family owned the city and took great care to improve it constantly.
Due to the improvements, and the many visitors who had to pass by since St.
Anthony was in the middle of the land, the centre was a grand place to be. I
became more excited as we approached. I hadn’t had a good sip of wine for a
while and I knew the Madrio Tavern carried some of the best wine in the land.

On
our speedy ride we had already dreamily discussed our thirst for wine and had
decided to stop at the tavern before we went anywhere else. Our parched throats
needed refreshment and Patrious was probably a few hours behind us anyway.

As
we neared the bridge that crossed over Thayne River, a dirty, skinny man
approached us, waving both arms in the air. His fingers were as skeletal as the
dead soldiers at camp. His bony and thin face brightened when he saw us.
“Please! Can thou spare some pence? I’m starving!”

“No!
We cannot! We are in a hurry, on king’s business!” Asher was gruff in his
response.

The
man was clearly taken aback. He lowered his arms, slumping his shoulders. The
brown wool cloak he wore was tattered and stained. A long beard covered his
chin. I couldn’t tell where his golden hair ended and his beard began. He had
apparently been unkempt for a long time.

I
sighed. It pained me to see the poor, defeated man being yelled at by a soldier
from my regime. I slowed Flash and reached into my pack. My fingers easily
found the soft velvet of Vivian’s cloak. With a slight tug, a gold coin broke
from the lining. As I rode by the man, I held the piece toward him. He stared
at me, uncertain, and then held up one hand to reach for the money. When I
dropped it on his palm, a bright glow returned to him, with a smile revealing
too few teeth for a man of his young age.

“Oh,
God bless thee kind sir! Bless
thee
!” I nodded at him as a tear cut
loose from his blue eyes, making a straight line through the dirt on his grimy
face. The gratitude painted all over his being was thanks enough for me. I rode
on.

Asher
looked back at me with a slight glare. I pointed my index finger toward the
gate, indicating that I preferred him to move on, instead of worrying about
what I chose to do with Vivian’s money. I suspected that Vivian - wherever she
was - would not be upset with me if she knew what I had done.

Jadorion
rode next to me, his eyes seemed bright, “Sir, that was a might kind thing ye
done forn that man.”

I
slowed Flash to a trot so my squire could better hear, “Jad, if there is only
one thing I can instill in thee - while under my direction - it’s that a good
act never goes wrong. I will never regret what I just did for that man.
Someday, ye will learn the importance of sacrificing something from thyself for
the good of others. It’s a rewarding thing, not only for them, but for us.”

Jadorion
nodded, “I could see how that would make ye feel good.” He smiled at me. The
young lad looked tired and weary. We needed a proper meal and a fine night of
rest. Asher had slowed his horse to wait for us.

“My
Lord, I apologize for the way I scolded that vagrant. I should not have done that
and am forever sorry.” Asher’s eyes avoided mine, searching the stones of the
bridge.

“Sir
Asher, it is not
I
whom can forgive ye for that. However, I am glad thou
art sorry. Let’s continue forward as if this never happened.” I pushed myself
from Flash’s back, as riding was not allowed in the city. The men followed suit
and we approached the gatekeeper.

“Who
goes there?” A uniformed soldier shouted from behind a full-face helmet. He
wore full armor. I assumed it was a smart thing to do at this juncture, in
fact, I decided that before we left St. Anthony for the Mistrust Forest, I
would most certainly don my plates.

“Good
den, sir!” I boldly addressed the fellow. “I am Vivicus Rudd, traveling with
Donovan Wood and my nephew Jadorion. We are passing through and seek refuge in
the inn.”

The
man seemed uninterested in who we were. He merely scrawled on a parchment, and
then opened the gate. “Horses shall be left at the stable! Marshal Samuel will
take fine care of them.” He allowed us to enter the city then closed the gate
behind us.

Among
many things that impressed me about St. Anthony was the stable. Each horse was
assigned a stall and the owner was given a key specific to the stall. It made
horse thievery difficult.  I wanted to shake the hand of whoever had designed
the system.

After
entrusting our horses to the jolly Marshal Samuel, we took our packs and headed
to the tavern. I checked my pocket for the weighted key to Flash’s stall and
smiled for the horse’s security. Genius.

The
streets were fairly clean, which wasn’t odd for this city, but it was for
others. Queen Ventor was particular about cleanliness, which was virtually
unheard of elsewhere. She employed garbage collectors to push a cart through
the city and collect debris. I don’t know where the trash was taken to but I
knew the city was more proper than most.

Little
cottages with thatched roofs lined the dirt roads. The church spire rose high
above the city and the towers of the formidable castle loomed right behind
that. The tavern was past some candle shops, where wicked candles hung out
front like colorful icicles. The gray haired, stone-faced storekeeper kept a
harsh eye on any passerby who got too close to his store.

The
streets were surprisingly bare for the large city. I had a feeling the harsh
cold had something to do with people participating in quiet indoor activity; or
perhaps fear of the dragon contributed.

Upon
approaching the Madrio Tavern, voracious laughter poured through the door like
I’m sure the ale was pouring from the spigot. A slight bit of worry washed over
me as I hoped nobody in the tavern knew of me or the reward for my head. I
wasn’t in the mood to spill blood.

Asher
blew out a long sigh, as if he was thinking the same thing as me. He looked at
me and said, “Well, let’s get this over with.” Then he put out his hand to push
open the door. Nobody so much as glanced at us; they were watching a man
juggling on the bar.

The
juggler wore a pointed hat with bells at the tip. He wore a poofed-out shirt
that also had bells tied to the ends of little strips cut at the bottom of the
top. His tights were blue and yellow box-patterned. The ends of his legs were
bound by pointed leather shoes that curled at the ends. Although impressive,
the thing that dazzled me most were the three fire sticks he juggled. It didn’t
surprise me that no one had noticed us enter the store.

We
chose a small table to sit at in an almost vacant corner. The juggler and his
musical flute accompaniment had the focus of the entire gaggle. Asher and
Jadorion placed their weary bottoms on the seats of worn, brown wooden chairs.
I placed my pack on a seat next to them and turned to look for a barmaid.

A
lovely lady with long golden locks, a brown dress with a tight-fitted bodice
and long flowing skirt, swayed herself toward me. The closer the woman came,
the more I wanted to grab Asher and flee quickly from the place! Trepidation
filled my stomach because I knew what was coming.

“Felicia!
What a surprise to see ye here.” I outstretched my arms to the stunning beauty.
The look on her face went from a beautiful, shining smile, to picking her jaw
from the floor and politely tucking her eyeballs back into her delightful head.

I
knew once I made vocal name recognition, that Asher would go crazy. He didn’t
disappoint me; even though he did.

Behind
me, a chair was kicked against the wall as Asher hustled from it. “Felicia
Funder! What in blazes name are ye doing here?” I imagined it was a proper
question for a man to demand of his estranged wife. However, the attention his
volume brought our direction was unsettling. I released my slight embrace from
the lady and sat down next to Jadorion to avoid the inevitable matrimonial
thunder.

“Oh
dear! Yourn alright! I thought ye were dead! Let’s just take this outside now,
sweet cake.” The petite little gal grabbed Asher’s hand that made hers seem as
a child’s in comparison, and led him – feet dragging - out the side door of the
tavern.

Jadorion
and I watched them leave in utter disbelief. We had been gone from Tirrus Dow
for a mere two days and the man’s wife had already left him for dead. Seemed
suspicious to me, but I was of no authority to judge.

A
short, dark-haired, and plump barmaid waddled to our table, “I’m Hilda. What’ll
thou fine men be drinkin’?” She barked with a raspy tone. She reminded me of
someone I once knew – probably her beak-like nose - however, I knew I didn’t
know her.

“Aye,
Hilda, we would like some godale and some of yourn finest wine.” I drummed my
fingers on the hardwood table.

At
my request she raised her eyes at my lowly attire and said, “Wine is quite
expensive here, sir. I’ll require money paid forward.”

I
reached in my sack and pulled out a gold coin, again from Vivian’s coat. I was
going to owe her a bit of currency when I found her…er, if I found her…but I
wasn’t allowing myself to think that way.

I
placed the coin in the woman’s voluptuous hand. “Keep the drinks coming until
this is used up.”

The
woman looked at the coin, then me, as if I had handed her a ruby. She turned
and bustled away.

Jadorion’s
curly hair had dirt in it. His face was stained with mud and it looked like he
was dressed in mud too. I grinned at him, wondering how ridiculous I must look.
We watched the juggler in silence.

As
I watched the entertainment, my eyes glanced back to Jad. My mind wandered back
to Flash and the money Jad had used to purchase him for me. I decided since I
already owed Vivian an amount, I may as well owe her more. I reached for two
more gold pieces from the cloak, placed them on the table and with my index and
middle finger, pressed them toward Jad.

“What’s
this for, my lord?” Jad had turned to me when he heard the scraping on the
wood.

I
grinned. “It’s for taking care of your knight. Flash.” I patted Jad’s back.

Jad
smiled, rounding his shoulders in attempt to hide his red cheeks. “Aw, ‘tis not
necessary! That was a gift!”

“Jad,
that was a nice thing for you to do, but that is an expensive gift.  You took
care of me and I’m paying you back. A man always pays his debts!” Jadorion
raised his head to look at me. He gritted his teeth and nodded, then smiled. He
reached his thin fingers to the table, brushing the coins into his other hand
and carefully tucking the gold into his pack.

Jadorion
cleared his throat, “I miss Brendan. He was like a brother to me.”

“I
know what ye mean, lad. I feel the same way.” I smirked at Jad.

My
squire paused to throw me an odd look. Catching sight of the mirth on my face,
he laughed like a child who had won a game.

I
joined his laughter, and when it died I sighed. “I miss him too, Jad. He was a
barrel of fun.”

After
a brief silence, the maid returned to our table with two large pitchers and
three large mugs. It was clear she had seen Asher. She placed the items on our
table and in a much more polite manner than before she took our payment asked,
“Is there anything else I may get for ye gentlemen?”

“I’m
hungry. Do ye have any decent food in this place? Usually tavern food is bloody
awful!” Jadorion croaked before taking a mug and filling it with beer. I went
for the wine; it was what I really wanted.

“Aye,
the chef makes a fine duck.” She blurted.

“Three
of those then, miss.” I piped in before Jadorion could say another rude thing.
She winked at me and waltzed away.

Jadorion
gulped his beer. I drank my wine quickly as well. The juggler had enough and
caught every flying flame stick in one hand. He blew out the fire in one swift
puff then bowed to loud applause. The male flutist, in a suit almost identical
to the juggler, continued playing a cheerful tune.

I
counted ten men warming stools at the bar. They seemed to be vassals, not
fighting men, probably taking a rest from their days work. I assumed we had
arrived at a slow time of day since I had seen the bar filled with at least
four dozen men at one time. No man looked at us, or approached us. Thankfully,
we chose a quiet spot.

“I
wonder when Asher will return.” Jadorion inquired. The tavern had no windows to
see from but was lit with many lanterns. At the top of the tall walls were a
few small windows, but they were merely for light and not gazing through.

I
thought about checking on Asher and Felicia, but their business was not mine. I
also knew if I were to stumble upon Vivian, I wouldn’t want a soul disturbing
us. As much as I missed Vivian, I knew that although Asher didn’t like the
lifestyle of his lady, he adored her with all he had.

Our
duck arrived on tin plates surrounded by a cloud of steam.  Hilda placed the
dishes gently on the table. The rich, fatty smell of duck filled my nose,
making my mouth water. My stomach grumbled in agreement with my taste buds. I
grabbed my fork to dig in to the perfectly browned bird. Hilda asked if she
could bring anything else but the silent chewing at the table told her we had
all we needed.