Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

Mr Peterson hobbled inside; there was a door that opened out onto the paddock.

  Valerie watched as Jonathan walked up to the black and white filly first. He held his hand out for her to sniff, then patted her nose. He seemed to be talking to her, but Valerie could not hear what he said. He looked the horse over from top to tail, then repeated the same process with the light tan.

  “Val, come here,” he beckoned.

  She went up and he took her hand. He held it under the horse’s nose then took his away.

  “Right. Now see if she’ll let you pat her.”

  She placed her hand on the filly’s nose slowly. The filly nuzzled it gently. Valerie smiled, rubbing her hand on the velvety coat.

  Jonathan had her do the same with the black and white horse. Valerie barely had time to put her hand on its nose before it pushed its nose into her. Her hand dropped and the horse nuzzled her shoulder.

  “Well, I think she likes you.” Jonathan smiled. “Do you want to ride her?”

  Valerie nodded and Jonathan walked into the stables. He returned a few minutes later with a saddle over his arm.

  “I’m sure Old Man Peterson won’t mind us borrowing this for you to try her,” Jonathan said as he buckled it up under her stomach.

  He helped Valerie up onto the saddle, then stepped back. Valerie sat still for a few moments, waiting to see if the filly would tolerate her weight. The filly stood still, only shaking her head. Valerie leant forward and stroked her neck. The horse shook her head again, her mane tickling Valerie’s face.

  “She seems to like you,” Jonathan said. “Do you want to take her around the paddock?”

  Valerie smiled and nudged her heels into the filly’s sides. She started walking slowly, reacting to Valerie’s slightest commands, barely a touch to the side or a hand on the reins.

  “She reacts well, and feels calm,” Valerie called.

  “That’s good. Let’s talk to Old Man Peterson about price,” Jonathan replied and she hopped down from the saddle.

  Jonathan left Perry to roam in the paddock and then went inside, and Valerie followed after a quick pat on Perry’s nose.

  Mr Peterson’s house had an older feel than Emme and Lawrence’s. The walls were bare stone and it was sectioned off into rooms. The door from the paddock had led them into the side of an open passage, there was another door on the opposite side to the left, and a set of stairs to the right. Valerie could hear voices to the left so turned that way.

  Her boot hit something and she looked down. There were a few sets of boots here, and she spotted Jonathan’s among them. Taking this as a cue to remove her boots, she did so then pushed through the other door.

  This door opened into a cosy sitting room with two sofas and a comfortable chair. Between the seats was a low table, on which sat some daisies, three mugs, a coffee pot, and a plate of biscuits. Jonathan sat on the sofa directly in front of Valerie, and Mr Peterson was sitting in the chair. Valerie was not sure if she should sit next to Jonathan or not. Eventually she hovered so long that Jonathan spoke.

  “If you won’t sit down, Val, you can pour the coffee.”

  “Och, lad. That’s no way to treat a lassy!” Mr Peterson chuckled. “If ye be too lazy, I’ll do it meself.”

  “No, no. Mr Peterson, I can manage. Thank you.” Valerie smiled at him and gave Jonathan a very pointed look. He shrugged, smiled and took a bite of his biscuit. She picked up the pot, swirling it about to make sure the coffee had not all sunk to the bottom.

  “Och, now. It’s not every day and old duffer like meself gets waited on by a crown princess.”

  Valerie almost dropped the coffee pot, but caught it in time, burning her hands a little.

  “Does everyone here know who I am?” she asked Jonathan.

  He nodded. “Well, they know who I am, so they guess who you are. Not really worth trying to lie to these folks, they’d know. They’re trustworthy enough, you’ll be safe,”

  “Aye, even if poor Edmond and his bonny lad were poisoned.”

  This time Valerie did drop the mug she was holding. Simultaneously, Jonathan choked on his biscuit. Mr Peterson looked pleased with himself, then slowly more unsure of the situation. The mug smashed to pieces at Valerie’s feet, but she barely noticed as she looked, mouth agape, between the old man and Jonathan. To quote the old proverbial, you could have cut through the silence like a knife through butter.

  “What’s the matter lad?” Mr Peterson asked. “Did she not ken?”

  After some time, Jonathan coughed and shook his head.

  “Did she not ken…know what?” Valerie asked him.

  “Erm…” Jonathan squirmed. “Well, there were reports that Edmond and Daniel may have been poisoned, and that whoever did it used the plague to cover it up.”

  Valerie could only stare at him, horrified by the thought that someone would want to poison tiny little Daniel. She felt her legs give way and her bottom plonked onto the sofa behind her.

  “We didn’t know anything for sure,” Jonathan was saying. “No one wanted to tell you until it was confirmed.”

  “But…Daniel.” She stared at her hands, those hands that had held him so many times.

  Jonathan was at her side, kneeling on the ground by her feet. He took her hands and kissed them.

  “He was not even one yet. Why would someone do that?” Valerie could feel the tears welling in her eyes.

  “Because he posed a threat, Val. That baby would one day grow up to be king and someone didn’t want that.”

  “But what about Da and me then?”

  “You have been under round the clock protection, given only the most trustworthy guards. The council paid a fortune for magical wards as added protection, not to mention all the tests of loyalty the whole castle had to undergo.”

  Suddenly, Valerie thought she understood why the Council forbade her from moving up into the Senior Corp. “I would have too much freedom as a knight…” she said quietly.

  Jonathan must have heard her as he nodded. “I think so, yes. They couldn’t tell you what was happening. Well, they didn’t want to. But they also couldn’t let you run around the countryside, doing your knightly duties.”

  “Were they?”

  “Were who what, Val?”

  “Were they poisoned?”

  “We still don’t know. The…people who look into these things were still doing so when I last spoke to your father, back before I found you.”

  “When will we know?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t know, Val.”

  “Should we go home?”

  “We don’t have to. We can continue on your quest. Very few people know you’re not in Mor, and them I trust not to spread the word.” Jonathan tilted her chin to look at him. “We can continue on if you want.”

  Valerie thought about it for a moment. She wanted desperately to prove her worth to the Council, but if their reasons for not wanting her in the Senior Corps went beyond her worth, what could she do? Then again, what was she worth if she gave up on her quest?

  “If I might butt in for a moment?” Mr Peterson leant forward. When neither of them replied, he continued. “Might I ask what your quest is?”

  “We’re looking for the wizard so he can grant me a quest and I can prove my worth to the Privy Council to be a knight. But it seems pointless now. They want nothing more than to keep me wrapped up in lambs’ wool where no harm can come to me.”

  “Fie and fo!” Mr Peterson spat. “Ye show them. Murderers or not, ye can’t put yer life on hold. Finish yer quest and go home a hero!” He smiled proudly then held the plate out. “Biscuit?”

  Valerie laughed and took one. Jonathan looked at her, a question in his eyes. She understood and she nodded. He bowed his head, stood up and poured them all coffee.

  “Now, Mr Peterson. About that horse?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Valerie, what are you doing?” Jonathan called back.

  �
�She doesn’t want to go,” Valerie said.

  “What do you mean, she doesn’t want to go?” He turned Perry around and stopped to look at her.

  Valerie’s filly was walking as slow as it seemed possible. Which only served to make Valerie’s foul mood even fouler.

  “As in she doesn’t want to move faster than this.” Valerie held her arms out.

  “Maybe if you weren’t so crotchety, she’d be in a better mood,” Jonathan said.

  “Maybe if you weren’t so happy-go-lucky, I’d be in a better mood.”

  “What in blazes does that mean?”

  “Just shut up.”

  “Are you going to name her?”

  “I’ll get around to it,” she snapped.

  “Valerie, we’ll find the wizard. Old Man Peterson only said it was the next lot of mountain ranges,” Jonathan said. Valerie’s horse had finally made it to Perry’s side. They nuzzled one another.

  Valerie scoffed. “You’d think if she liked him so much, she’d want to walk near him.”

  Jonathan rolled his eyes and Valerie scowled at him.

  “Stop giving her such a hard time, Val,” Jonathan said as Perry moved off again. “She seemed fine last week.”

  Valerie wanted to tell him that last week she had not been wandering around with images of him and Fina remnant from her dreams. The night before, she had dreamt of them hugging and laughing. Dream-Fina had seemed quite happy to ignore Valerie no matter how nice she had been. It had made her grumpy since she woke, not helped by the fact they were still halfway through their trek to the valley at the base of both mountains.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you today, Val. But it’d be nice if you sorted yourself out before we get to the next town.”

  “Why? I could just be a really grumpy trader,” she said, under her breath.

  “I heard that.”

  She grumbled some more, not helped by the fact that her horse slowed down again.

  “Just find her a name. I’m sure she’ll feel better then,” Jonathan said.

  “Why couldn’t Mr Peterson name her?”

  “Stop whining and looking for the easy road out.”

  “If I chose the easy road, I would never have left home in the first place!”

  Jonathan nodded. “I suppose so, yes. So naming your horse should not be too much of a challenge, then.” He whistled merrily and said no more.

  Valerie spent the rest of the day wondering what to call her. She had spent the last week calling her ‘you’ and ‘girl’ and ‘horse’. She supposed if someone did the same with her for over a week, she would be pretty contrary too.

  She patted the horse’s neck. “I’ll find you a name soon,” she said softly.

  The horse whinnied in response and her pace seemed to pick up. Soon, Valerie and her horse were trotting along pleasantly beside Jonathan and Perry. And thankfully, they stayed that way until they stopped for the night.

  The stopped in a small glade. Trees covered the distance between them and the road, but they were not too far away that they would not hear people passing, nor too close that Jonathan could not position their fire out of sight of any passers-by.

  The night before, Jonathan had finally agreed to let her help put their shelter up. Valerie was looking forward to helping again, finally feeling useful again. She started to untie the bag the shelter went in but Jonathan shook his head.

  “We won’t need that tonight. I’ll just get a fire going and we can lie beside it.”

  Valerie nodded, showing she understood, and put the bag away again.

  She moved off, going to look for wood.

  “It’s all right, I can manage. Stay here with the horses.” He left, heading away from the road.

  Valerie shrugged and sat on a log to wait for him.

  A few minutes went by and she noticed that the horses looked uneasy. She checked her side, her blade was still there, safe – though why it would not have been, she did not know.

  A few more minutes went by and the wind picked up. The trees rustled and Valerie’s hair blew around her face. She re-plaited it and thought about getting the cookware out for when Jonathan returned.

  She heard a noise, like a giant cracking, and looked toward the trees again. They seemed to be moving a lot for the wind strength, according to the little Valerie knew. She watched a bit longer, but all seemed fine.

  She had turned back to the saddlebags when she heard Jonathan yelling, “Valerie!”

  Valerie laughed to see him, running comically with a bundle of sticks in his arms, leaping over obstacles. The laughter died as she saw the combination of terror, concern and preparation his face displayed. As he got closer, he dropped the sticks, drew his sword and dagger, and spun around to face the way from which he had come. Valerie, still unsure what was happening, drew her sword as well and stood beside him.

  “What’s–” Valerie was cut off by the answer to her question barrelling through the last of the trees into the glade. “Trolls,” she whispered, all humour now gone.

  There were two of them, which was not surprising given they usually travelled in pairs. They seemed smaller than the books Valerie had read, but they were still huge. They were at least twice the size of Jonathan, about the size of a two-storey house. They were heavy set, with knobbly skin the colour of mossy boulders. Their faces were squashed and they had little black, beady eyes. One had a small tuft of green hair sticking out from its head. Their bodies were surprisingly in proportion, Valerie had thought they were more squat with arms that easily raked the floor as they passed. Each troll was holding a wooden club. Valerie could not tell if they were male or female. Were there even female trolls?

  She gulped and took an involuntary step backward.

  “Stay by my side, no matter what,” Jonathan said, positioning himself slightly in front of her as the trolls advance, grinning lopsidedly.

  “What if–?”

  “No matter–”

  Jonathan did not finish his sentence as a club swung, lightning fast, hit him in the stomach and threw him backwards. He slammed into a tree and slid down it. He did not move and Valerie felt panic welling up inside. Her breathing became faster and her heart pounded. Valerie had trained to fight knights, not trolls. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she watched her opponents.

  The trolls grinned at Valerie, but there was nothing very pleasant in their faces. Valerie grimaced as the troll on the left swung its club back. She waited for what she hoped would be the right moment and ducked, feeling the air rush past her as the club was swung over her head. Valerie rolled to the side, standing up again. She looked around cautiously. The second swing was a lot slower than the first and she was wary about what would come next.

  She heard panting and saw Jonathan slouch into her peripheral vision.

  “You did better than me, is seems,” he wheezed.

  “Marginally. The attack was much slower.”

  Jonathan nodded, just getting his blade into position to parry another swing from the troll. He grunted, jumping back and shaking his arms out.

  Valerie was then kept busy with her own troll. They were much more nimble on their feet than their size implied. Valerie, needing a break, ran away from the troll, hoping to get some distance and some time to think.

  However, before she had had a chance to turn around, a shadow passed over Valerie and the troll landed heavily in front of her.

  She yelled in frustration, which seemed to serve only to excite the troll more. It smiled widely, showing stubby teeth that were a slightly lighter shade than Valerie had expected. Either trolls had magnificent teeth, or oral hygiene was very important to them.

  Her thoughts were interrupted as the club swung down. She threw her blade up over her head, flat. The club smashed down and the flat of her sword hit her head, but with a lot less impact that the club alone would have. Pain shot through her arms and head.

  Princess! she heard Ivo in
her mind. She would have berated his use of her title, but she did not really have time.

  She grunted and he must have taken that as some kind of reply.

  Are you okay? Where are you? Can we help? His words flowed like a barrage, with barely any pause between them.

  I would be if you stopped distracting me! she replied.

  What is it?

  Trolls. Hush. Talk later.

  She felt like she gave him a mental shove and there was blessed silence in her head again. The troll was just lifting its club up again, so the exchange must have lasted mere seconds. Valerie rolled out from under it. She felt air push down on her and rolled the other way, narrowly avoiding the club as it hit the ground. Dust flew at Valerie and she shut her eyes quickly. She took a moment to look for Jonathan.

  He looked quite impressive for a man who had just flown into a tree. He almost danced nimbly around the other troll. Green liquid oozed from the troll’s leg and Valerie assumed Jonathan had at least landed one blow. Jonathan on the other hand was bleeding quite well from a few cuts of his own. His shirt had a great red patch on his stomach and Valerie feared his wound had opened again.

  She had very little time to worry about Jonathan as she tried to keep herself alive.

  She spent more time rolling around on the floor, trying to avoid the troll’s club, than she did blocking or attacking. Her clothes were filthy and she could feel dust in her eyes, nose and mouth. She spat, trying to clean her mouth out as best she could. She thought it would be really nice if they could take a drink break, but she did not think the troll would be amenable to that plan.

  She heard a victory shout from Jonathan and a crash. Both she and the other troll turned around and saw its companion was lying face down in the dirt. Jonathan stood with his arms raised above his head. When he saw them looking at him, he dropped his hands and began to advance on the remaining troll.

  Valerie’s troll roared. Rancid breath flowed over her and she gagged a little.

  So much for oral hygiene, she thought.

  With Jonathan’s help, she was able to spend less time avoiding the troll’s blows and more time trying to land her own. Between them, they seemed to be making headway. While one was dodging, the other could hit. The troll, though, was much madder now its fellow was down. Valerie had the impression that the trolls had been playing with them before, but now this one meant business. Its blows were faster, its ability to lash out at one of them and then block a blow from the other increased.