by Matt Heppe
The squire’s eyes widened as Hadde emerged onto the roof. “I’ve brought you some food,” she said, offering him the bowl.
“I… uh,” he replied, glancing at the open trapdoor.
She offered the bowl again. Steam rose from it and dissipated into the darkness. The squire put down his bow and took the proffered food.
“Thank you lady… um.”
“Call me Hadde. And you are Squire Melas?”
He nodded and said, “You have no title?”
“I’m called a huntress, but it’s my calling, not a title.”
“Ahh,” he replied, but he looked confused. He spooned a mouthful of porridge.
“Have you seen any more of those creatures?”
He shook his head as he swallowed. “No, not a one.”
It was very cold on the roof and Hadde hadn’t thought to put on her cloak. “I’ll come up to relieve you in a little while. You should not have to be up here so long.”
“That isn’t necessary. It’s my task, and I’ll do it until Sir Nidon sees fit to relieve me.”
“I’ll tell him of your plight,” she said as she turned toward the trapdoor.
“No!” he yelped, sounding very young. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t tell him I need help.”
“You’re cold, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m fine. Don’t try to help me. Don’t tell Sir Nidon I need relief.”
“I… well, if you say so.” She started toward the door.
“Hadde, thank you for the porridge.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied as she re-entered the tower. The Saladorans bewildered her—they were so different. The two knights had finished cleaning their equipment and were setting it aside as she stepped off the ladder. She walked to her side of the fireplace and set her bow and cloak to one side in preparation to return to the roof.
She was refilling her quiver when Waltas asked, “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to the roof so that Squire Melas may come down to rest and warm himself,” she said. “Earl Waltas,” she quickly added.
“No you’ll not. Sir Nidon and I will relieve him at the appropriate times. You’ll gather what you need and go downstairs to sleep.”
“I’ll do what?” she asked. “Why am I forbidden from taking a watch?”
“Because you’re a woman and women cannot handle arms. It’s inappropriate.”
“I don’t know who decided that, but it’s nonsense. I’ve handled arms since childhood, and it’s a good thing for you! Would you have made the gate if I couldn’t handle a bow as I can, Earl Waltas?”
“You insolent bitch!” the earl spat back at her.
He looked as if he were about to rise when Nidon said, “I see no reason for anger, Earl Waltas, when what she says is true.”
“What, Sir Nidon? Will you have commoners speak to us in such manner?”
“In the court of the king I’ve often met foreigners. Idorians, Estorians, and even a Nording chief. Their ways are all different from ours. They may be uncouth and strange, but our king tolerates them. We should follow his example.”
Waltas turned his attention to the big knight. “You would side with this commoner, Nidon?”
“She did us a good deed with her archery. I’ll not deny it. She deserves some courtesy.”
“She’s just a common girl. Foreign, no less. She deserves nothing! Is this what Sal-Oras nobility has come to? Are you an akinos that would…” He stopped mid-sentence and looked into the fire.
Hadde turned her eyes on Nidon and saw he was giving the earl a hard stare. “An akinos that would what, Earl?” Nidon asked. “You find my behavior to be…”
The earl left the question hanging and instead replied, “I suppose you would let her sleep in here? With us?”
It was Nidon’s turn to look uncomfortable. “I... I don't want her in here with us, but it would be… it would be un-chivalrous of us to cast her into the stable.”
“If she were a noble woman I would sleep in the stable. But she’s not! She’s a commoner. And foreign. Why do you protect her? What would people say of us if they learned we slept in the same room as this half-naked barbarian?”
Hadde balled her fists. She wouldn’t be cast out of the tower without a fight. She looked at Nidon as he struggled to find a response. She didn’t know why he was defending her.
The moment of silence dragged on.
“Well?” Waltas looked at Nidon with a smug grin.
“She’s an ambassador,” Nidon blurted out. “I wouldn’t cast a foreign ambassador out. And as long as she keeps properly covered, it won’t be a problem.”
“She’s already improperly covered. And you’ve no reason to name her ambassador. Where are her letters of cachet? Where is her token of office? The court will hear of your behavior, Nidon!”
Hadde glanced at Nidon, but he wasn’t looking in her direction. She could see the tension on his face. She hadn’t understood everything they were saying, but she could tell Nidon was losing the argument.
“What is a letter of catch-it? Or a token of office?” she asked.
Waltas threw his head back and laughed.
Nidon grimaced in defeat as he replied, “It’s a letter from your sovereign announcing your mission to our king. The token is a badge, staff, or orb that’s carried as a symbol of rank.”
“Catch-it!” Waltas cried out and laughed again. “I don’t think she has one of those. Do you, Sir Nidon?”
“But I have a token of rank,” she said.
“What?” Waltas asked, a big grin on his face. “Let us see. Some twig from the forest?”
Hadde reached to her neck and pulled the chain from under her tunic. Both knights’ eyes widened as it appeared. Waltas’s mouth dropped open while Nidon smiled.
“May I see that, Hadde of Landomere?” he asked.
She removed the chain and held it out to Nidon. Only after handing it to him did she remember the warnings she had received. Not all Saladorans could be thieves, could they?
“A Spiridus Token. I’ve seen one before,” he announced. He looked at Waltas. “One exactly like it. It’s worn by Orlos the Spiridus, Ambassador of Landomere.”
Nidon handed the Spiridus Token back to her. “Hadde of Landomere, you will see the king.”
Chapter Seven
Waltas yanked open the trapdoor and stomped down the stairs. “Get up! It’s nearly dawn.”
Hadde roused herself and gathered her gear. With Belor’s death she had abandoned her quest, but now she wondered if she had made the right decision. What should she make of Orlos? A spiridus still lived, and he wore a pendant exactly like hers. Was Belor right, and she was meant to travel to Sal-Oras? Perhaps Orlos had the answers she sought.
Following the knights’ example, she donned her harness. Squire Melas assisted both knights with their aketons as she struggled with her own. Hadde picked up her mail corselet and began to pull it over her head when Waltas said, “What are you doing, woman?”
“I’m putting on my armor, Earl Waltas.”
He shook his head. “The aketon is bad enough, but I’ll not permit you to wear mail.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a woman and because it’s the law of Salador. Only knights and men-at-arms may wear mail.”
“What if we’re attacked by more of the silver-eyes?”
“They’re called varcolac,” Nidon said. He looked from Hadde to Waltas. “And I agree with Hadde. I think she should wear her corselet.”
“You would let her flout our laws?”
“I think the situation calls for it, Earl Waltas. And as an ambassador I’m willing to give her some leeway.”
“I’ve noticed, Sir Nidon. You’re giving this barbarian woman quite a bit of leeway.”
“I’ll leave it for the king to decide if there is error in my judgment.”
“What kind of a knight are you?” Waltas muttered.
&n
bsp; The room went still.
“Are you challenging my fitness as a knight?” Nidon asked, his voice hard.
Waltas coughed and looked away. Nidon’s gaze was unflinching as he stared at the other knight.
“I…” Waltas stammered. “We’ll let the king decide.” He paused and quickly added, “Decide what is appropriate for the woman.”
Nidon turned his back on Waltas and finished donning his armor. Hadde pulled her corselet over her head and then cinched her belt tightly about her waist. She picked up Belor's sword and considered putting it on. He would have wanted me to wear it, she thought. He would have wanted me to continue his quest.
“You won’t need that,” Nidon said.
She looked up to find him staring at the sword. She was about to question him, but something in his eyes told her she shouldn't challenge him. And he was too important an ally to lose.
While the two knights finished their preparations, Hadde followed Melas downstairs. Once there she saddled Lightfoot while the squire took care of the Saladoran mounts. She had almost finished packing Windwalker and Quickstep when Melas said, “We have a problem.”
“What’s that?” Above them she could hear the two knights’ footsteps as they stomped toward the stairwell.
“Earl Waltas’s horse was slain. He has no mount.”
Hadde shrugged. “He can ride Quickstep.”
Melas’s brows furrowed. “After what he has said to you? You would offer him a horse?”
“What does it gain me responding to his unkindness with my own?”
Melas opened his mouth to speak and then shut it. “I—,” he started, but was interrupted by the arrival of the knights. Melas told them of Hadde’s offer.
“Ride that?” Waltas snorted. “It’s barely a horse.”
Nidon smiled. “There doesn’t seem to be much choice.”
“I’ll ride the squire’s horse and he can ride the hobby.”
“No,” Nidon said, “Squire Melas isn’t your vassal. He’s a Squire of the House and is in the king’s personal service.”
Waltas flushed with anger but held his tongue. Pushing past Nidon, he walked to Quickstep. He sucked air through his teeth as he looked at the horse. “It’s more a big dog than a horse. And this isn’t a saddle. We’ll replace it with my own.”
“We have a saying in Landomere,” Hadde said, as she pulled a strap tight. “Freely given, happily accepted.”
Nidon laughed. “We say much the same. Most of us, at least.”
Waltas ignored them and led the horse from the stable.
***
“Sir Nidon,” Hadde said as they rode from the fort, “this is the road my companion and I were following. The manor we ride toward is where Belor and I were attacked.”
“You were attacked on a manor? I assumed it was the varcolac.”
“No, the villagers. They tried to rob us in the night, but we fought our way free. My friend was wounded and later died.”
“No lord would allow this to happen on his manor,” Waltas said. “More likely you were raiding it.”
“There was no lord there, Earl Waltas. There were just men called yeomen. They said their lord had left them.”
“We’ll know the truth soon enough,” Nidon said. “Let's waste no more time.”
They rode off with Nidon and Waltas in the lead, Melas, Hadde, and Windwalker following behind. They made good time, even dismounting and marching for periods to save their horses. There was little conversation amongst the travelers. Every once in a while Nidon looked back as if checking on Hadde. She smiled and waved each time. He had nothing to fear; the pace was easy by her standards.
The manor was much as she had left it. Despite her warnings, the knights approached without caution. Hadde pulled her bow from its case and nocked an arrow. She ignored Waltas’s glare. Nidon only shrugged. Unlike her previous arrival, there was no flight of villagers into the manor. The place seemed deserted but for the smoke rising from the chimney.
Nidon approached and called out a greeting, but there was no reply. He dismounted and strode to the gate, where he hammered upon the door with his mailed fist. Still no answer. With no means of entering, they gave up and retreated to the village to find a place to stay for the night.
“This is where we were attacked,” Hadde said as they rode up to the battered cottage. Blood stained the shattered doorframe.
Nidon nodded appreciatively at the arrows embedded in the wall. “With the manor held against us, the signs of a fight, and the filthy state of this village, I’m inclined to believe Hadde’s story.”
“There is still some daylight left, Sir Nidon,” Hadde said. “We could get some distance from here before we make camp.”
“I see no need for that,” Nidon said. “The sky is darkening and I have no desire to be rained upon.”
“But what if the yeomen attack?”
“Bah!” Waltas snorted. “They wouldn’t dare. If you’re afraid, ride off and hide in the woods.”
“We’ll be safe,” Nidon said as he dismounted. “We shall stay here.”
“Don’t you believe me when I tell you we were attacked? That these villagers are dangerous? I’m not making these stories up.” She didn’t try to hide the anger in her voice.
“We’ll be safe,” Nidon said, his tone final.
They made camp in a large cottage. Despite her discomfort, Hadde refused to take off her armor. She wouldn’t be caught unprepared. The knights seemed less concerned about an attack but at least took the precaution of keeping watch.
Hadde settled down with her back against a wall and her bow across her lap, certain she wouldn’t sleep at all that night. She remained alert for a while, starting at every noise, and fingering the fletching of a nocked arrow. Squire Melas stood the first watch.
She wished Belor were with her. He would have been filled with excitement that they had met Saladoran knights and were off on the next part of the journey. If only they had run into the knights a few days earlier Belor would still be alive.
Hadde dozed and woke up to find that Nidon had taken over for Melas. Her surprise that she had fallen asleep was short-lived. She fought her drooping eyelids for a while, but the effort was futile. She dreamed unsettled dreams of fire and violence and woke barely rested.
The following day, when there was still no sign those within the manor would open the gate, Nidon led the party northeast. Late in the evening they halted in a stand of trees next to a shallow brook.
“Two more nights under the stars,” Nidon announced as they dismounted. “We’re on the land of Earl Crane. Once we reach his manor our journey will become easier.”
Hadde surveyed her surroundings. She had never feared sleeping in the open, but she found herself longing for the safety of four stout walls. Frowning at the thought of sharing a fire with the Saladorans, she led her horses to the far side of the clearing. The Saladorans paid her little attention as they established their own camp.
As she shrugged off her mail corselet, it came to Hadde that the next weeks could be very lonely. She was used to the solitude of the hunt, but it was a foreign feeling to be alone in the presence of others. She set up her lean-to and cared for her horses. From time to time she watched the Saladorans. Squire Melas established the camp while Nidon and Waltas saw to their arms, armor, and horses.
As she gathered wood, she noticed signs of game. Here and there small animals rooting for bugs had disturbed the mat of leaves. Was the Wasting not as strong in Salador? She still saw signs of it, but there was wildlife here. Was there some hope? She bent closer and grinned.
Turkey.
She glanced at the setting sun. Time was short. Dropping her armload of wood by the fire, she grabbed her bow and crept into the woods. Peering into the camp, she grinned at her successful escape from the Saladorans.
The wind blew from the north and she headed in that direction. As soon as she was out of sight she paused and took a deep breath. It was good to be a huntress again. Pu
lling an arrow from her belt, she listened to the wind and the babble of the little stream. Leaving the noise of the camp behind, she slipped deeper into the woods.
Hadde smiled. She was one with the forest and she let its spirit enshroud her. She knew she was no spiridus, but she felt like one as she glided invisibly between the trees. The trials of the journey were left behind. She felt like her true self again. She was a huntress and the woods were her home.
Hadde felt another presence in the forest nearby. She paused and slowly took a knee. Her heart beat a little faster as she cocked her head to one side. A tom turkey that hadn’t yet bedded down for the night scratched a last meal from the forest floor. There were two other birds with him, but she barely spared the females a glance. The tom wasn’t large, but it was big enough.
Hadde inched her bow into position. She wouldn’t rush. Turkeys were the most elusive game she hunted and she knew them well. How many times had they escaped her at the last moment?
Not this time.
Willing herself to move slowly, Hadde drew her bow. She had a clean shot. She released. Squawking and thrashing erupted as she pulled another arrow from her belt. It wasn’t needed. The tom was down and the others had vanished.
Hadde, cheered by her luck, took her catch and returned to camp. The two knights had a fire started and were seated next to it polishing their armor. Melas knelt over a pot sitting in the flames.
“Look what I’ve found!” she said as she held up her prize.
“Where have you…” Nidon started.
“Hah, we’ll eat well tonight!” Melas cried out. He looked at Hadde with a childish grin.
A sour expression crossed Waltas’s face. “I shouldn’t have expected more,” he said. “She’s a poacher as well.”
Hadde saw Nidon and Melas’s happy expressions fade.
“What’s poaching?” Hadde asked.
“Will you defend her again, Nidon?” Waltas said as he stood. “She’s a common poacher and here she is with her ill gotten gains.”
Hadde lowered the bird to her side. “What do you mean?”
“Poaching is hunting without permission on the lord’s land,” Nidon said with a sigh. “It’s a crime in Salador.”