by Rocky Bills
“Thanks, Sayer. He is really smart!” About this time, we heard some clatter by the building. A stone mason was busy working on a ladder that was leaning against a scaffold.
The mason seemed to be plastering cracks in the stone wall. Demon was pushing on the ladder with his nose. “Demon, leave the man alone, he’s trying to work,” I said.
The man on the ladder found no favor with Demon’s antics. “You, sir, why is the beast not on a rope?”
“He will be all right. He’s just curious about the ladder.”
“All stupid animals should be tethered!”
I took one look at Demon and knew what was going to happen. “Sir, quickly step onto the scaffold. You are going to lose your ladder,” I warned. As Demon went for the ladder, the man stepped onto the scaffold, dropping his mortar bucket to the ground. Soon the ladder followed the bucket. The mason cursed. “Damn it, man! Control your beast!”
“Sir, watch your tone. He is very sensitive and will think you are challenging him.”
The mason replied, “You make it sound like he understands. He’s a crazy damn beast is what he is!” I just put up my hands in surrender as Demon headed for the scaffold. Demon placed his shoulder against the scaffold and began pushing. The man scurried to get hold of the wall as the scaffold toppled over on the ground. Demon bellowed and trotted around, shaking his head from side to side as if he had defeated something. The man had made it to the top of the wall and blustered, “Bastard son of a bitch!”
“I really wish you hadn’t said that,” I told him. Demon stopped trotting around and looked up at the man on top of the wall. I said, “It’s okay, Demon. He didn’t mean anything.” Demon snorted loudly as he positioned himself in front of the man’s fallen mortar bucket. “Oh no, Demon, don’t do it! Don’t do it!” Demon promptly raised his tail and crapped in the mortar bucket. I looked at Sayer and saw that his face was turning purple. “I’m really sorry, Sayer. Sorry, so sorry!”
As I finished my apology, Sayer started roaring. He laughed so hard that he grabbed hold of me to steady himself. He laughed so hard he cried. Feeling embarrassed, I offered, “Okay, then, my work here is done. I’ll be taking off now. Come on, Demon. Mildred, come.” Mildred came trotting over, and we made a hasty departure. Looking back, I could see Sayer bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to gather his wits. I wondered how long it had been since Sayer had laughed. He had so much pressure on him. Perhaps this release would be good for him.
Work continued on the hold defenses and the great wall around the main house complex. Work also continued on our training.
For the first time in weeks, Meeks started to relax and let his guard down. On instruction from Master Strom in Port Veronies, he had set out some three weeks ago with a wagonload of wine casks destined for De Ferrier Hold. The prized Roschale wine shipment was but a cover for his true mission, to map all details of the hold’s structures and defenses. Although the wagonload of wine was good cover, he was still stopped and questioned four times by De Ferrier range riders and lookouts before reaching the hold. Once he reached the hold, the kitchen manager proved to be another obstacle. The lady questioned him extensively about the origin, quality, and age of his load. She even inquired as to the whereabouts of the usual hauler. It took a lot of good talking to convince Fina to accept the load. Even then, he had to open and sample every single cask with her before he was paid. Once his business was concluded, he was allowed to layover two days to rest his beasts in the hold’s private pasture. This time gave him good opportunity to wander about and collect information. Camped next to his wagon at the stable, he spent his nights drawing maps of the hold. One map was of the buildings and grounds surrounding the main hall. The other was of the entire valley, with locations of lookout posts and patrol areas.
With the barge of middle crossing some five hours behind him, he was now almost nine miles past the Sedgwick River, which marks De Ferrier Hold’s southern border. Meeks enjoyed the rhythm of the mule team’s steady clomp against the tingling of the trace chains. Normally, he despised the beasts, finding them dull and wanting. At best, he tolerated beasts of burden, which was enough to get them to perform their tasks. After all, that was all he wanted of them. A subdued sense of joy made the corners of his mouth turn up as he spied a rider closing the distance with him. This was the appointed time and place to meet his contact and receive payment for his efforts. This mission would allow him a comfortable retirement away from stupid beasts, and preferably, off the island completely. When the rider closed the distance, Meeks reined in his mules and set the wagon’s brake.
The rider raised his right hand and said, “Master Meeks you are being?”
Although the stranger was dressed in clothing typical for locals, he could tell immediately that the stranger was foreign by his accent and facial features. He guessed the man to be of Arabic origin, and with a most disturbing demeanor. His once-joyful mood immediately turned to one of fear and caution. Meeks had met many ruthless killers in his time. As he looked into this man’s lifeless black eyes, the hair on the back of his neck stood tingling as his body was washed with internal heat. This was a reaper of men.
Meeks said, “Aye, I be Strom’s man.”
The stranger replied, “Good, business we be having this day. I would like examine maps before payment being made.”
“Yes, of course. I will meet you at da back a da wagon wit' them for viewing.”
The stranger proceeded to the back of the wagon and then dismounted. After tying off his horse, he withdrew two large money pouches from his pack bags and tossed them on the wagon’s open tailgate. The clang of precious coin caught Meeks's attention as he arrived at the wagon’s end holding two large hide scrolls. All of his senses were on alert as he spread the scrolls and used the coin pouches to weigh them down. Meeks almost flinched at being in such close proximity with evil. He forced himself to stand steady, explaining the large-scale map of hold lands. Then he dissected the map of the hold structures surrounding the main hall. Meeks’s nose twitched at the strange scent emanating from the deadly stranger. All his senses told him to run, even though he knew he couldn’t overcome his first priority, greed. Meeks inched away, allowing the man to examine the maps closely.
The stranger asked, “Broken lines for hold wall is being?”
Meeks replied, “The broken lines are fer construction. Da great wall is in process of rebuilding. The crews estimate nine to twelve months to finish it.”
“Ahh, I see.” The stranger sighed. “Very complete drawings provided you have. I am satisfied. You may examine payment now.” Meeks’s greed overpowered his sense of self-preservation as he dumped the money bags in the wagon and started examining the strange Arabic struck coins. As Meeks hurriedly replaced the coin in the bags, the stranger rolled the scrolls and bound them with rawhide ties. He said, “Is payment to satisfaction, Master Meeks?”
Meeks replied, “Oh, yes! Payment is more than adequate.”
With the scrolls under his left arm, the stranger patted Meeks on the shoulder, which caused him to jerk away defensively. The stranger laughed and said, “So you are knowing what I am about. Trust me when I tell you it is not yet your time, Master Meeks.” The deadly stranger was still laughing when he mounted his horse and cantered away without any more words.
A very unsettled Meeks immediately unlaced his britches and relieved himself. He then retrieved his payment and boarded the wagon. He was still shaking when he released the brake and chided the mules forward. It was several hours later when Meeks found a good camp spot with water and grass for the mules. With the beasts hobbled on grass near a stream, Meeks prepared his bedroll next to the fire. The day’s stress of flirting with death had taken its toll. A sense of physical exhaustion overtook him. Deciding to take a brief nap before eating, he wrapped up in his bedroll. Just before dozing off, he scratched his itchy shoulder, where the creature had touched him. The man truly made his skin crawl. As Meeks slipped into sleep, toxin injec
ted from a tiny needle prick on his shoulder continued to spread throughout his body. Within two hours, Meeks was well beyond sleep with no way back. He never woke the next morning. It was two days past when curious travelers discovered his dead body still wrapped in his bedroll.
Lady Bella was very pleased with our progress in weapons, evasion, and deception. Our running and conditioning improved, with Fulk proving exceptional as the Lady had predicted. I believe he could outrun a horse in distances. Basilea proved exceptional in tracking and could find the lady almost every time. Fulk and I continued to be terrorized about half the time. On one training session, the three of us tracked Lady Bella into the dense forest. We had lost the trail several times but picked it back up in a short while. The lady would leave false trails, travel back on her own tracks, and sometimes, there were no tracks. Sometimes there was just breakage and bending of shrubs and grass or just a shine on a rock was all that could be found. As we tracked the lady deeper into the forest, Basilea fell back.
“Basilea, everything okay?” I asked.
“Everything is fine. I just need to get a stone out of my boot. I’ll catch up, go ahead,” she said.
Fulk and I turned to continue and noticed the tracks stopped in front of a large tree. Suddenly, part of the tree broke away and came at us. Fulk and I froze in disbelief. Then it reached out and grabbed us. We both screamed bloody murder. Then the tree thing moved backward, folded, and fell to the ground. The thing was guffawing hysterically! Behind us, Basilea was rolling on the ground in hysterics as well. Fulk and I looked at each other, still stunned from the fright.
The tree thing spoke, “You, you, it, was, it was, it was really, really great. You should have seen your faces.” We both realized we had been had.
“You scared me to death, Bells. I think I pissed myself!” I said.
Fulk added, “I believe I may have shat myself. I’ll have to check to be sure.”
These comments just encouraged the ladies to laugh harder. I said, “And you, my sweet, innocent, beloved Basilea, you spotted Bells, didn’t you?” Basilea was laughing so hard all she could do was shake her head up and down. Fulk and I were beginning to see some humor in it and sat down. We began to chuckle. It felt good to see the two of them enjoying themselves, even if it was at our expense.
After a bit, Basilea came over and squeezed in on the log between Fulk and me. She put her arms around us. “I’m sorry; I don’t know what got into me. Normally, I’m a very nice person, really. Can you forgive me?”
Bells just sat there taking it all in with a wide grin on her face. I said, “Well, I don’t know. You both have been very bad girls.”
Bells spoke up now, “Oh, they will forgive us. They can’t help themselves. They love us!”
Fulk and I looked at each other. Fulk responded, “Well, there is the love thing, and the black bread too!” We all laughed together for a while again. It felt good. It was hard to believe people could be closer than our little group.
Fulk and I tried to set a trap for the women two days later, and they detected us with ease. I think women are just more perceptive in a sneaky sort of way. It wasn’t all work and no play, though, as the fall festival was soon upon us.
Lord Goodwin’s fall festival was always popular, attracting people from great distances. The eastern pasture closest to the main house complex would be reserved for the festival activities. A great stage was erected to accommodate the ministerial and theatrical groups the lord hired to entertain the masses. Huge tents were set up on each side of the stage to serve as rest stations for tired patrons. Vendors and craft masters from far and wide would be setting up their portable shops along the walking paths. Weapons, leather works, clothing, fine jewelry, and numerous food vendors would be selling their goods.
The lady set up a large tent with clay ovens for Basilea’s bread. A number of the kitchen staff would be manning the operation. It was anticipated that the delicious bread would be a tremendous success. Along with the promise of good times, the festival had its troubled side. With all of the unknown people coming and going, it would be easy for an assassin to infiltrate. The captain of our soldier force was sick with worry over how to protect the lord and lady. Not only would strangers be allowed access to the grounds, but many noble families were to be accommodated within the main house. This allowed suspect individuals to enter with entourages that accompanied the wealthy. Captain Terric had been in several heated discussions with the lord and lady over protection within the main house complex. The lord’s point being that if accommodation was denied to nobles and their families, it would be taken as a grievous insult and enemies would result, something the hold could not afford. Captain Terric pointed out that if he surrounded lord and lady with dozens of men, they would be insulted anyway. The lady, with her considerable wisdom, managed to broker a compromise that they both could agree to.
The captain would assign a vigilant escort when lord and lady were partaking in festival activities. Upon returning to the hold, the noble guests would be entertained in the great hall. When the time came to retire for the evening, the lord and lady would retire to their chambers, and the night guard would be posted at the door. Once inside their chambers, lord and lady would exit through one of the secret passages and make their way outside the complex. They would take their rest within Sirates House. The captain seemed appeased with the compromise and would have several men lying in wait inside their bed chambers, just in case. Only the few personal guards inside the chambers and charged with protection of Sirates House would be aware of the plan. Even they would not know until the first night of festival. The best plans are known only to those who make them. The lady insisted that men-at-arms and range riders in distant outposts be relieved after two days of festival, so everyone would enjoy at least two days of the festivities. Although not required, farming and ranch tenants within hold lands would without doubt come in to celebrate the lord’s festival. A few days before festival, people started to arrive. The first to arrive were the traveling vendors. They were driving their great wagons filled with wares. All sought the prime locations to set up shop. Once settled, their heavy work beasts were allowed pasture on the rich hold grasses.
The numerous minstrels and theatre groups set up their wagons behind the stage area. Huge wings of the main house had been prepared to accommodate noble families who were beginning to arrive daily. Many of the nobles were customers or suppliers of the hold and were accommodated with all respects and amenities that were available. The main house kitchen responded well to the increased demand as it functioned fluidly under Fina’s direction. The house staff had been temporarily increased to cater to the many wealthy guests. Fresh water, wine, fruit, and pastry snacks were made available in each room. It was considered rude to allow guests to be wanting for these simple amenities.
The day before the festival was scheduled to start, the occupancy of the main house swelled to the point that Captain Terric verged on a nervous breakdown. The plan for lord and lady to take rest in Sirates House was executed early.
Another plan was enacted that day that was of my doing. With the twelve gold coins in my pocket, Fulk and I went to check out the vendors. The best time to buy at festival was early. To be the first customer ensured the best deals. Vendors were traditionally superstitious, and to lose the first sale could bring bad luck for the entire event. As Fulk and I made way to the vendor grounds I said, “Fulk, how are you getting on with Trina’s daughter these days? What is her name?”
Fulk said, “Her name is Nesta; the most beautiful girl in the land. I think of her always. We talk and walk a lot. She kissed me last night. I guess that means she likes me, doesn’t it?”
I knew her name well and also that she did like him. I had been mentoring the relationship from afar, you might say. “Oh, that’s right, Nesta. If she kissed you, I would certainly believe that means she likes you.”
“Oh, I’m glad to hear that, very glad indeed!”
“Fulk, if you were t
o get her something at festival, what would it be?”
“Oh, I have thought of such a thing for some time. If I had the money, I would get her a beautiful brush and mirror set, to brush those marvelous red strands of fire. Hair that sets fire to barren desert sands, hair that!”
“Okay, okay, Fulk. Calm down, man. You’re telling the wrong person here!”
We looked at each other and laughed.
“Yea, guess I got carried away. Did I get carried away?”
“Yes, yes, you did. If you want her to kiss you again, just tell her that stuff, the stuff you were saying.”
“You think that would work, Gamel?”
“I have no doubts! Here, take this, and get her the hair set.” I handed Fulk one of my gold pieces.
“What’s this?” he exclaimed. “Oh, no, I can’t take this. Here, take it back!”
“Fulk, it would make me feel very good if you took it and got Nesta a present. On the other hand, if you wish to insult and humiliate your best friend, then slap me in the face with my good deed.”
“You are a terrible bastard to debate with!”
“So I’ve been told. Look over there,” I said, pointing. “That vendor setting up should have what you’re looking for. Let me start the conversation, Fulk. We will get you a good deal.”
We approached the vendor. He was an older man, and the woman helping was probably his wife. I said, “Good day, sir. How are you on this fine day?”
“Fine, boys,” the old man said, “very well indeed. Me and the missus are looking forward to the festival. Is there something I can do for you boys?”