[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 07-20-2006 @ 04:10 PM).]
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 07-20-2006 @ 04:10 PM).]
"You will need a good mount, novice," cautioned Liudger. "Have you selected one?"
"I have," confirmed Aldric. "But I think it best if the mount chooses me, don't you think?"
Liudger started to laugh. "Chooses you? No horse makes such a choice. You pick the horse and bend him to your will. That's how it's done!" Liudger laughed a little more, mostly in amusement at the very idea of "a choosing."
"In your profession, most likely. I wish to do this differently."
"All right then, Aldric. Show me this unique way of gaining a mount and I shall gladly withdraw my words of doubt." Again, Liudger laughed good-naturedly not expecting in the least to have make amends for any previous statement. Together they walked purposefully to the stable and remuda.
Aldric passed through the garden once more, stopping to pull a fully grown carrot. He dipped the root into a water trough to wash away the residual dirt. Arriving at the remuda gate, he broke the carrot into two pieces and put both in a pocket in his robe.
Hisbold warily watched the two humans approach. One he knew to be the master of a snobbish warhorse. The other he knew as the gentle human who made odd though pleasing noises and always had something tasty to eat. The stallion tossed his head and with his peripheral vision quickly took note of where the other horses stood in the remuda. Disdainfully, he turned his back on the two men and slowly walked to the opposite side of the remuda, the farthest away from the two men he could be at the moment.
"So which animal is it you think will choose you, Aldric?" began Liudger. "One of the mares? Or maybe that reputedly insolent stallion over there, the one that just walked away as we approached."
"The stallion."
The two stable brothers, curiousity getting the better of them, came out of the structure to see why the soldier and novice were there. "Prepare a saddle, please, Brother," said Liudger to the nearer of the two. "This youngster thinks he can conquer the stallion."
The brothers looked at each other and then at Aldric and then at Hisbold. Both shook their heads and entered the stable to withdraw a riding saddle. They doubted it would be necessary to place the leather piece on the horse as the beast would most likely not permit that to occur.
Aldric drew open the gate and entered the remuda. The mares withdrew to the stable wanting no part of the strange human who was now among them. Hisbold stared in wonder at the bold human, but did not follow the mares. He snorted and tossed his head up and down to show he was not going to be moved by anything on two legs. Aldric reached into his pocket and withdrew a length of carrot, further breaking it in two and placing the second piece back in his pocket with the other length of carrot. Aldric stopped in the middle of the remuda and held out his hand, the carrot centered in his flattened palm.
Hisbold blinked. Then as if having minds of their own his legs slowly caused him to walk towards the human who was holding the tasty morsel out to him. A few measured paces and Hisbold gripped the carrot piece with his teeth and began to enjoy its crunch, moisture and flavor. So good! A warm hand patted his flank and moved its way up his magnificently muscled neck. Tension in the stallion's flanks and back eased. He began to hear the soothing noises again coming from the human.
"Yes, if you will have me, I shall need your help. There is a long journey ahead and I hope you will be so kind as to bear my weight to the place I must go. Hisbold, for I am told that is your name, I should like you to be the one. I trust no other. Then, when the journey is done, I will find a way to set you free. That is all I can offer for I am but a novice, and a poor one at that."
Hisbold's eyes shifted to look at the human standing closeby. He lowered his head and sniffed to find the carrot the human buried somewhere in his form. One of the stable brothers appeared carrying a saddle. Hisbold tensed once more. He felt the hand of his companion on his flank and again stroking the lower length of his neck, and so he did not bolt right then and there.
"I'm sorry to say that the saddle is part of my weight and the burden I bring. I cannot ride you without it. Please let us put a cloth on your back to protect your hide and let us place this saddle there as well."
Hisbold hesitated, but the voice was as calming as ever and it seemed... right. Another carrot appeared just as the wary stable brother placed the undercloth, a kind of blanket, on the stallion's back. The saddle was placed there next as Hisbold consumed the piece of carrot. The stable brother quickly stepped away after cinching the straps. He made the sign of the cross as he sought the safety of the area outside of the remuda. It was for Aldric he prayed.
But Aldric did not mount Hisbold. Instead, he walked away from the horse towards the fence of the remuda. Puzzled, Hisbold watched him walk away, no thought at all given to the unnatural weight pressing on his back. the stallion followed. Wherever Aldric walked, the stallion followed, his eyes never leaving the novice. Finally Aldric stopped. Hisbold, without hesitation, walked right up to the human and placed his muzzle close to the human's shoulder and arm. Gently, Aldric reached up and took the horses reins in his hand. Lightly, Aldric stepped into the saddle's stirrup and then seated himself on the saddle on Hisbold's back. He withdrew the second length of carrot and broke it in half. He gave a piece to Hisbold.
Aldric lightly snapped the reins and with his knees guided the horse left and then right as it munched on the piece of carrot. Multiple walks around the remuda finally brought them to the gate, which Aldric asked to be opened. Just before passing through the gate on the back of Hisbold, Aldric paused to say to Liudger. "I asked him to choose, and he did, just as I hoped he would. We are ready for the journey, Liudger, both of us." Then Aldric clicked his tongue and he and Hisbold explored the near country side for the better part of an hour.
Liudger watched the novice ride off towards the outskirts of the Abbey grounds very much surprised and impressed. He looked at the brother, who again was making the sign of the cross. No doubt, this time, thought Liudger, the sign was not for the novice, but for the miracle the brother felt he had just witnessed.
"Brother!" called out Liudger, a smile of appreciation on his face. "What have you prepared for us?"
Brother Cook's smile widened, though not enough to reach the same girth as his waist, which had itself widened considerably over the years he cooked for the Abbey. "Wheat cakes for your mornings, and meat pies filled with venison or fowl for supper. Catch what you'd like along the way to stretch your supplies, but do enjoy them and on your return tell me your thoughts about each of them."
"A fare fit for travelling royalty, I'm sure!" exclaimed Liudger.
Brother Cook smiled anew at the complement, then his brow furrowed into a slight frown. "Aye, but I must tell you there is minimal from the carrot garden. Seems a rodent or something made off with enough orange roots to worry me about feeding the brothers. There's enough for them, but none to spare for the journey.
"Oh..." noted Liudger, who on impulse glanced at Aldric only to see the young novice hurriedly look away wordlessly. "A small price we pay for being blessed with such fine foods for the journey, Brother Cook. Our thanks to you."
On hearing these words, Aldric too thanked the cook, but said nothing more than that. He turned his head so that Liudger would not see his face or the redness growing from cheek to ear. Aldric had not intended to cause Brother Cook concern, but then again, Hisbold... Well, what was done was done, he decided and let it go at that.
All of the gathered brothers fell quiet when Brother Engilbert appeared with Brother Anslech at his side. The abbot slowly descended the stairs of the chapel and a pace away from the still dismounted novice and soldier stopped. Engilbert looked at each of the two travelers without speaking to either directly. Then he turned and spoke to the gathered members of the Abbey. "Brothers, as you know we send our young novice Aldric with the Prince's soldier Liudger to seek our lost relic. From this moment forward, all of our prayers shall be for the success of their mission and more importantly for their safe return. May God go with them." The low rumble of masculine voices repeated the abbot's final words, "May God go with them."
Both Liudger and Aldric lowered their heads and made the sign of the cross. Forehead, chest and left and right shoulders. Then they raised their heads, Liudger nodding his head when Aldric's eyes found his. They mounted their horses, Aldric grasping the long reins of the pack horse and tying them to his saddle. Liudger would lead and Aldric would closely follow bringing up the pack horse. They would alternate these duties, they had earlier agreed. Both clicked their tongues and pressed their knees to their mounts. A few horse paces later they were through the gate of the Abbey and into open lands beyond.
Their journey had finally begun.
"We need to set a few matters in strict order," began Liudger, a serious tone wrapped around his words. "I am Liudger, to be spoken to as if a companion, never a soldier; nor should my status or background ever be revealed. It may seem otherwise, but these lands and forests have keen ears and must not know our mission or who we really are. You shall be Aldric, a lad who is an apprentice at trade. I am a merchant, nothing more, nothing less. Are we clear on these matters?"
Aldric nodded his head. Clear enough. "Shouldn't we use adopted names though? Wouldn't that be more wise?"
Liudger frowned. "I gave that consideration. Using an adopted name is too easily foiled. Little mistakes made here and there, and then finally a fatal mistake. No, we can respond to our own names quite naturally and by doing so raise no suspicion. We can speak to each other plainly and nobody would be the wiser."
"I see," said Aldric. "As you wish... Liudger."
Liudger smiled. "Onwards, Aldric. Let's see what this day will bring to us."
From there they continued on the generally northward road and indeed encountered what the day had prepared just for them.
The party of six seemed led by the seventh rider who promptly signaled the others to stop near, but not too near to the place where Liudger and Aldric sat on their horses. Hisbold tossed his head nervously not liking the proximity of the other horses or their riders. Aldric patted his neck to calm the creature.
Hand on his sword, the leader and two of this comrades walked their horses close to Liudger and Aldric. He wore pieces of armor, enough to protect chest and head. Chain mail protected the rest. "You two are travellers?" he asked.
"We are," answered Liudger in their Frankish tongue. "Merchant and assistant."
The leader leaned in his saddle elevating himself to peer at the supplies on the pack horse. "Going to market or coming from market?"
"On our way to market to trade. Who am I being addressed by, Sir?"
"Captain of this province. We seek footpads who attacked some such as you." The Captain sat back in his saddle and removed his hand from his sword. "Be alert and wary of the road ahead, merchant." The Captain paused. "Do I know you merchant? I sense I've seen your face before."
"Not likely. I'm new to these parts," answered Liudger.
"Maybe so... But I think that... Well, no consequence. Be wary and remember this warning and you will arrive at your market." The Captain turned his horse around and waved to the others. They resumed their fast trot and all seven disappeared when past a turn in the road.
Aldric watched them leave. "Do you know him Liudger? He seemed to know you."
"I've seen him before in the course of my last duty, but from a distance, same as him. I'm glad it was a goodly distance or our presence here would have been compromised. No danger from them of course, but the news would be out and our mission forced to an end. I think it best we leave the road and cross open country where nobody has seen me pass before."
"But Liudger, we'll be slowed."
"Correct, but little choice in the matter, Aldric. We cannot mingle on these public roads more than necessary."
Aldric pursed his lips. He saw the logic in it but didn't like the idea of leaving the road. Nonetheless, Liudger was the leader of this mission and Aldric's training in obedience was strong if not absolutely complete. He followed Liudger westwardly off the road and into the open country north and beyond.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 08-23-2004 @ 08:21 PM).]
There were rumors of a people to the far north, well above the lands of the Frisians, who seemed to be stirring. Norse they were called due to the location of their villages. Of yet, however, none had been seen in these lands, none below the Norse's deep, ice-cold sea and white-blue sea inlets that lay at the foot of sheer cliffs. None ventured there these days. The few before who did, never returned.
Patches of forest and rolling grounds were interrupted here and there by plowed fields, creeks and ponds. Signs of human habitation were everywhere, from foot worn paths to domestic animals wandering freely within areas bordered by makeshift walls of inexpertly piled stone or stacked tree branches. Though the walls were hardly thick, high or solid, the feeble minds of the sheep and goats found the structures intimidating and so they readily obeyed the message conveyed by each obstacle. They stayed together upon the grassy fields bordered by the walls.
Under the shade of a tree the two men paused and dismounted. Aldric took advantage of the lull in travels to reach into a satchel on the pack horse and withdraw a carrot. He broke the root in half placing one half back ito the satchel and bringing the other half to Hisbold. The horse readily pulled the carrot into his mouth from Aldric's outstretched hand.
"Is the rodent in that satchel as well," Aldric heard Liudger ask.
"What rodent?" the novice asked, not catching Liudger's direct meaning.
"The one who stole the good brother's carrots."
Aldric turned a bit red with indignation. "Noting was stolen, Liudger."
"Oh, of course not." Liudger's face broke into an odd half-grin. "I thought novices were obligated by vows to be honest and charitable."
"We are."
"Then why did..."
Aldric didn't let him finish. "I was accused of nothing nor asked a question. I had no cause to lie or to be uncharitable. Brother Cook admitted there was plenty of carrot root for the monastery. I merely applied the excess to the business of the Abbot: this mission."
Liudger's grin widened. Aldric realized the Captain was merely teasing him. "You would make a fine supply soldier in the army of the Prince, young Aldric. You requisition supplies as opportunistically as the best I have ever seen."
Aldric frowned. Was he being complemented or chided? Aldric decided to accept the statement as a complement. "Thank you, I..." But he was interrupted by a great bellowing sound, bestial in its timber, erupting from the patchwork forest slightly to the west. A great lumbering horned animal emerged, its head dipped low, shaking its long pointed horns, its reddish eyes locked on the images of the two men before him.
The bull pawed at the ground and snorted. Then it began to advance on the dismounted men. One look and the two men realized there could be no talking to this beast in the way Aldric spoke to Hisbold. They ran to mount their horses just as the beast bellowed once again and charged.
The terrain was rolling, not flat. One moment they galloped uphill and then the next were galloping downhill. The bull kept pace. Up ahead loomed a stone wall with rocks piled just low enough for the horses to leap, but high enough to ward off the bull. Liudger in the lead, they headed for the stone wall and one after the other, the pack horse as well, they leaped its crown, landed on the other side and then slowed their mounts to a stop to see what the bull would do.
The stone wall intervened against the bull just enough that it ended its pursuit and occupied its seething fury with attempts to rip first one stone and then another out of the wall. Horn ripped at rock until in frustrated fury the bull simply rammed the full width of its horned head into the wall with all of its remaining might.
The stone wall perceptively bulged inwards as a result of the collision, but did not collapse. The bull on the other hand stood rather still, its eyes rolling about as if looking everywhere, but actually incapable of looking anywhere. It snorted once or twice and then turned around and somewhat unsteadily began to make its way towards the patch of forest from which it first emerged.
Aldric heard chuckling nearby and turned in his saddle to see Liudger with something of a broad grin on his face. "Yes, Liudger, I'm just as relieved as you to escape that creature."
"Oh, of course, but that wasn't why I was laughing."
"Then why?"
"I just couldn't help it. The antics of that bull reminded me of someone I knew."
"Really? Who?"
"A soldier... a countryman. Never knew when to quit. Just like that bull... And just as successful... Especially against Frisians."
"What happened to him?"
"They promoted him to General in the Frankish Army!" Liudger's laughter rolled across the field. Great peals of laughter. Aldric chuckled, mostly at Liudger's display of mirth rather than what the soldier said.
From there they traveled to the north for a number of days without further incident. Their string of uneventful, peaceful days came to an immediate end when they noticed the sickening sweet smell of death's handiwork and came upon the scattered corpses of dead Frankish soldiers lying in the field near a burned out cottage. Aldric made the sign of the cross, while Liudger dismounted and picked up a spent arrow protruding from rotted flesh in the side of a dead soldier.
Liudger examined it closely, especially the feathered end. He looked around, and then looked at Aldric with a strange expression, as if deciding whether to say anything or not. Then his expression changed as his decision was apparently made. He said one word to explain all that lay in front of Aldric's eyes and the spent weapon he held in his hand: "Frisian."
Hisbold's attention following one of these moments was somehow drawn to the partially charred cottage. His ears perked up and the hollow openings were aimed at something seemingly within. Aldric looked at Liudger, who happened to notice this behavior in Hisbold at about the same time as Aldric. Liudger tilted his head in the direction of the cottage and shifted his eyes as if to say, "Follow me." That is exactly what Aldric did when Liudger, pulling his horse by the reins, began to make his way to the cottage.
A few steps away from the cottage's blackened entrance a hitching post remained upright and strongly anchored in the ground. Whoever had lived here before the cottage's destruction must have been used to visitors on horses.
Something unexpected caught Liudger's eyes. Over the door was a Frankish expression of "Welcome," neatly hand-painted and only partially obscurred by smoke from the fire that had ravaged a part of the cottage. A squeaking noise from behind the cottage caught Liudger's ears. He and Aldric tied up their horses to the hitching post and both walked behind the cottage to see what caused the noise.
A water wheel turned continuously, powered by the flow of water in a small creek. The wheel as it turned rotated a crank that connected to a long metal rod running perpendicular to the ground upwards by about 3 meters, where it connected at 90 degrees to another suspended rod running parallel to the ground all of the way to an opening in the side of the cottage. As the crank turned, the rod pushed forward into the house and then pulled itself backwards out of the house. Obviously in need of lubricant, it squeaked with every directional change in the rod's movement.
Liudger and Aldric looked at each other their mutual curiousity getting the better of them. Both began to walk towards the back entrance to the house. Both heard the sudden noise inside as if something struck the floor and then ran from one end of the cottage to the other. Both men froze in midstep. Except Liudger immediately put his hand on his sword and swiftly drew it out. Aldric stepped away from Liudger, not from fear, but to give his companion room to use his weapon if necessary to deal with what might be waiting for them within the dark of the cottage.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 09-01-2004 @ 03:44 PM).]
Liudger and Aldric halted again as this time the sound could be identified as footsteps. Liudger’s senses told him the tread was to light to be an adult and the pace to quick; slowly he lowered his raised sword to push the door open. But before his hand settled the door opened on its own accord. A small girl peeked around the door as she drew it open, soft long curls fell around her face and a dirty hand slipped to the front of the door to open it wider. Astonishment crossed the faces of Aldric and Liudger.
“She’s so little Liudger! Where do you suppose .....? ”
Aldric’s startled query broke the stillness of the cottage as his eyes roamed the gloom inside. Rosamund’s eyes grew wide with alarm; suddenly she dashed towards the back of the cottage.
“Maman! Maman! Maman!” the frightened four year old shrieked as she fled towards her mothers side.
Gisela, tiredly opened her eyes, she could hear Rosamund franticly crying out for her. Weakened from the soldiers’ brutal attack of a week ago, she had fought to survive. She struggled to rise to her feet, two mornings prior was the last time she had nourished her own body as she had fed the last of what food they had to the sweet child running towards her. The cottage spun momentarily as she went down on a knee to Rosamund’s level and stretched out her arms to catch her.
“Shushh! Rosamund! You must be quiet the soldiers may return! Please, for Maman, please…..” her words trailed off as she raised her eyes from her daughters head to meet the stare of Liudiger eyes.
Fear coursed through her like fire and what energy she had been lacking was replaced by sheer terror as the realization that their hiding place had been discovered. Scrambling franticly backwards she pulled Rosamund to the furthest corner of the room, and there realized she was trapped. Heart beating, and hope falling she raised her eyes again only to see another form appear behind the one standing in the doorway. Her heart sank as the gravity of their situation sank in.
"Woman, we shall not harm you." Her eyes opened wider and her trembling increased. Aldric was puzzled. He repeated his words as softly in as consoling a manner as he could create, "Woman, do you understand us? We will not harm you or the child." The woman grasped the child closer to herself." Aldric shook his head and frowned. He turned to Liudger, speaking to him in the Frankish tongue he knew adequately but less well than his own native tongue.
The moment Aldric spoke in Frankish the woman ceased to tremble. Color came back to her face. It seemed the terror she felt was visibly draining away. She spoke to them for the first time. "You are Franks?"
Aldric opened his mouth instinctively ready to tell the woman the precise truth about their origins. Liudger interrupted Aldric almost immediately and spoke to the woman in Frankish. "We are merchants, madam, from the south. We ply our trade among the Frisians and Franks alike. You have no reason to fear us. We saw the dead soldiers and heard a noise in the house. We thought someone might be alive and hurt. Are you well, madam? Is the child hurt?"
"You spoke to us in Frisian. It frightened us. We thought they had returned."
"Who, madam? Who did you think returned?"
"The Frisians."
Aldric felt disgust mingled with shame. "Why would my... Why would Frisians do this to you, madam?"
"Because they resent Franks being on their land. They resent the presence of my husband's..." Her eyes began to tear. "They killed him. He lies there in the field with his men, all of them."
Liudger struggled to control his anger. "And you, madam. Did they harm you?"
She looked at Liudger, her tears flowing freely now, her daughter clinging to her more tightly as her mother's emotions washed over the both of them. Finally the woman answered. "Yes. Horrible things." And she could no longer contain herself and cried with abandon, all the while her young girl-child saying, "Don't cry, Maman! Please don't cry!"
Aldric slowly approached them, knelt down on one knee and held out his hand to the little girl. She looked up at him, at his young face, gentle eyes and reassuring smile. "Come with me. You will be safe. We have food and an extra horse. We can help you."
The child looked at Aldric and then glanced at Liudger, who had assumed a calm stance and kept his sword hand away from his weapon. Then the child looked at her mother. The tears had stopped flowing now and the woman was busy wiping away as much of the evidence of her crying as she could with the corner of a soiled apron she wore over her long skirt. "Yes, Rosamund, go to him," she said. The child grasped Aldric's extended open hand. He brought her to her feet and then guided her, without pulling her, to his side. He then turned his attention to the woman.
Aldric smiled again. "Rosamund is your daughter's name. Very pretty, just like her." He held out his hand to the woman. "May we know your name as well?" She hesitated, but then reached out to grasp Aldric's hand just as Rosamund had. There was something very reassuring about the young man, even if he spoke Frisian as well as had those who assaulted her. "My name is Gisela."
Aldric nodded, "Come then Gisela. Have no fear. You are among friends now." She grasped his hand and felt it close warmly though firmly upon hers. A minimal amount of strength was applied, just enough to help her rise to her feet. She stood up whincing at the strain. "Are you in pain, Gisela?" Aldric asked in alarm. "I did not mean to hurt you."
"No, you did not hurt me," she reassured the young man. "The pain comes and goes. I will heal. I must... for the child."
Aldric looked at her, eyes mirroring concern and understanding. "My name is Aldric. He is Liudger. We will help you."
Gisela was standing now, not necessarily as steadily as would a healthy woman. "There is but one thing I ask of you, Aldric and Liudger."
"Yes, Gisela?" said Aldric, tilting his head to hear her soft voice more clearly.
"Please, for the love of God, bury my husband. Do not let him or his troup lie in the field to be picked apart by birds and the creatures of the earth or night. No more... No longer...!" She said this with such passion that neither could say no for any reason, and so they complied with her wish and gave a proper burial to the fallen Franks.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 09-10-2004 @ 03:31 PM).]
Ratbodo burst into his father's work room, the stench of ale immediately filling the little gaol room. Startled by his youngest son's sudden appearance, Hathowulf looked up from his daily journal mid-word, the quill in his hand still poised to finish the gaolmaster's intended addition.
"Greetings, Father!" cried out his son, a little less than steady on his feet. "I have returned!"
"And from where, Ratbodo? The local tavern? Well juiced are we for this little visit?"
Ratbodo teetered on his feet. "Father! Is that any way to greet your victorious son?"
"You defeated a keg of ale, boy? Is that your victory?"
Ratbodo blinked laboriously as his words came out in something of a disorganized drawl. "Keg... of ale? No, father. No victory there. The South... Victory in the South!" He took a step back to keep from falling backwards.
"What have you done, boy?" Hathowulf's worst fears seem to be coming true. "Tell me... What have you done?"
"A great victory, Father. Defeated Frankish knights lie stone dead in the field. No... casualties (hic). I mean, no Frisians... uhhh, dead. Only Franks. Victory, Father, victory!"
"How many dead Franks?"
"Uhhh, many... Ummmm, yes, many. At least six... or was it seven. Uhh... Well no matter, we killed their captain too."
"I see." Hathowulf's brow knitted. His fears were now real. "Witnesses? Escapees?"
"None, Father. Oh, unless you count the woman. Or the child."
"What about the woman or the child?"
"Who cares. We finished with the woman soon enough. She won't be much of a concern. The child... Oh, who cares! they were Franks. What does it matter?"
"The child! What did you do to the child?!"
Enthusiasm and glee quickly drained away from Ratbodo as his Father's apparent lack of appreciation finally penetrated his ale-sodden mind. "Nothing Father! We did nothing to the child! What do you think I am, an animal? I thought you'd appreciate our victory. You always took pleasure in Focwald's victories. Why not mine?!"
"Because, Ratbodo," his father said between clenched teeth, "Focwald battled invading Franks in times of war and he never made war on women or children, that's why. You were to reconnoiter, not engage. I told you that! What you have done may bring the wrath of the Franks on our heads! You fool...! And you left the woman to tell all that happened. Another blunder!"
"What was I supposed to do? Kill the woman and the child?!"
"No, Ratbodo. You were to observe, nothing more, nothing less. That's what you were supposed to do." Hathowulf saw his son nearly fall sideways until Ratbodo reached out and steadied himself on a wooden post supporting the building's second story. "And go find an open cell in the back to sleep your "But Father..." Ratbodo became distracted by the way the room was beginning to move before his bloodshot eyes. "GO NOW!" roarded Hathowulf. "I won't waste words with a drunkard!" Ratbodo made as if to say something, but the words wouldn't come. He let go of the pillar, staggered across the room and disappeared into the gaol's cell room. A clanging sound announced the fact Ratbodo had leaned into a wrought iron cell door and fallen into a cot allowing the door to clang when it closed. So far as Hathowulf was concerned, Ratbodo could stay there as long as he wanted. It was all he could do to keep himself from reaching into his drawer, pulling out his ring of cell keys, and turning the lock in the door of the cell in which his senseless youngest son now slept in an ale-induced stupor.
Hisbold too shook its head from side to side not appreciating the extra load nor the presence of the small human who sat in the saddle with "the one who brings orange roots." The horse glanced back now and then to see the tiny human only to have the bigger human click his tongue and tell Hisbold to attend to business. Hisbold snorted but did as he was instructed. There was always the chance he would get no more roots if he disobeyed.
Between Liudger riding in the lead and Aldric (holding Rosamund) rode Gisela, astride the load-lightened pack horse, with only a heavy blanket between herself and the horse's back. She rode unladylike but uncomplainingly. There was no help for it because no side-saddle was available; but her riding skills were up to the challenge and as the wife of a mounted knight, she was quite used to horses and knew full well how to ride.
Gisela said a silent prayer of thanks as she rode between these two men who until this day were perfect strangers. She thanked God that there were still kind, gentle, thoughtful men in the world, much the same as her husband... Her husband... She couldn't help glancing back as she left the site of the destroyed cottage and the seven mounds of freshly piled dirt, one of which covered her husband. She continued to look backwards as long as she could manage, as long as she could see the resting place of her husband, no matter the pain in her neck and back from the strain, until a change in the lay of the land took the site from her view. Her eyes filled with tears in that moment and she struggled to suppress the threatening sobs.
Aldric could see the glistening of tears welling up in Gisela's eyes. He could see her struggle to suppress the grief she felt. He began to sing a hymn he remembered, sung mostly during the joyful time of Easter, the celebration of the Lord's Resurrection.
Rosamund cranned her neck to look up at Aldric as he softly sang the hymn. This was what Aldric wanted, to divert the child's attention from her mother's grief, at least until it passed. Rosamund smiled. It was a pretty tune. She didn't understand the words, but she liked the way Aldric sang. The tune and the movement of the horse soothed her so much that she quickly fell asleep, her face still uplifted to Aldric, but her eyes very closed, her cheek resting against his belly.
Gisela wiped her eyes and as she did so they came to rest on Aldric, holding Rosamund. The young man smiled at her and nodded reassuringly. Gisela managed a little smile in reply and then as if finally resigning herself to what had occurred, turned her head around and for the first time since her husband's death at the hands of the Frisians looked to where she was going and not to where she had been.
Aldric snorted. "Care indeed. They will determine with a glance that these two are neither Frisian nor welcome. Supplies, yes. Leaving the woman and child with Frisians, no."
Liudger leaned back against the wood log supporting his back, as he sat on the folded blanket a meter away from the campfire. He stared into the fire noting the brightness of the flames and the ferocity with which they consumed the wood Aldric collected and piled on the fire for the night. The lad was young, but he was perceptive. But the mission... Liudger glanced over to where the sleeping forms of Gisela and Rosamund were barely illuminated by the light of the fire. He lowered his voice to be sure they did not hear. "These are your people, Aldric. Why do you have so little faith in them?
Aldric looked away, thinking before he answered. "They are my people, yes. And I do have faith in my people. Yet the plight of these two (he gestured towards the two sleepers) is the result of certain among my people. I cannot be sure of their welfare if we are in Dokkum and they are somewhere else as Frankish strangers in this land."
Liudger sighed. He really could find no fault with the Frisian's immediate argument. The very same thing nagged at him. If only they were soldiers, not a woman and a child... There are casualties in any mission... But no, not a woman or a child. They could not be casualties. He made his decision. "As you wish Aldric. They will stay with us. We will travel first to the village of Sneek, north and west of here. Then we shall stop in Leeuwarden a few days afterwards. From there it will be on to Dokkum. We can collect supplies in each of these villages prior to arriving in Dokkum. We musn't tarry in any of the villages. There may be in any of these villages the very men who you fear among the Frisians.
"Well and good, Liudger," said Aldric. "I will speak with them in the morning." Liudger nodded. The last thing he wanted was more communication with the woman than necessary. She made him uneasy. He didn't know how or why, just that he was uneasy.
Across the small encampment, Gisela stirred ever so slightly hoping not to draw attention to the fact she was awake just enough to catch snippets of the two merchants' conversation. Fear. Leave us in the next village? No, please no. She gnawed at her knuckles her blanket pulled up to her face to hide the fact. Sweet boy, thank you. Thank you so very much. They would stay together. Gisela thought of little Rosamund. She permitted a smile to crease her face. In the morning then... Sleep now. Yes, sleep. So tired. So very tired.
Eventually only the snapping and crackling of the warming campfire could be heard as it drowned out the soft sounds coming from four travelers deeply asleep under thick blankets.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 09-17-2004 @ 04:12 PM).]
The days had passed quickly as spring woke the land. A month had slipped by since Focwald had been summoned to establish working relations along the border with the Franks. Progress had been slow and the encroaching approach of the Franks brought news of horrible bloodshed more than it had brought peace. The realm of Charlemagne was expanding, engulfing those that tried to keep their way of life intact.
Far from his father, Focwald, turned on his horse. He was as striking young man, tall and muscular with a confident and noble countenance. He gazed over the men entrusted to him, they had been gone for so long now, just one more stop to go and soon they would return to Dokkum. He was nearing the borderland that separated them from the land of the Franks.
There had been a contact weeks ago, that would lead to this last meeting. A promising visit had been set up with a young captain of the Frankish realm. Focwald motioned for the advancing party to stop with his raised hand. Beyond the trees waited the last stop of the day. Not wanting to alarm the Franks they were meeting, it was decided one rider would go and announce them; he would return when it was safe to proceed.
The men waited quietly in the clearing, peering towards the path that the rider had taken. An advancing horse could be heard galloping towards them, Focwald tensed,
“Draw your weapons, and prepare yourselves!” was quietly and forcefully intoned to the party.
Relief spread across his face, he recognized the rider as the one sent ahead. As the rider drew closer to Focwald, the expression on his face told him something had gone wrong.
“Focwald! They are dead! All we were to meet are dead!”
This was not the news he had hoped to hear. The horses were brought in close and the young rider leaned out and handed two objects into Focwald’s out stretched hand. His eyes glanced over them, then narrowed as his jaw muscle tensed, reaching behind him he brought up one of his own arrows and placed it next to the arrow in his hand. The match was identical.
"A man prepares a meal and those who partake live," Liudger observed. "A woman prepares a meal and those who partake live well."
Aldric smiled. "Yes, it was an enjoyable repast wasn't it." He said this just loud enough so that Gisela would not miss the complement. Liudger nodded in agreement not thinking that Gisela might overhear their conversation. But she had, and she felt a little warmer inside than could be attributed simply to her proximity to the fire.
Aldric put down his hammered metal plate and with one more glance at Liudger approached the woman as she busily cleaned up after breakfast. "Gisela, Liudger and I think you should continue with us from here to at least Dokkum and not be placed at risk anywhere in between. We are concerned that those who harmed you might still be in this area."
Gisela suppressed her inclination to emotion and managed a controlled smile that radiated a fair portion of gratitude. "Thank you. I cannot begin to tell you how much we..."
"Then don't begin," said Aldric with a smile. "Continue preparing meals such as you just did and I assure you Liudger and I will feel exceedingly well rewarded on that basis alone."
"You are so very kind, Aldric," Gisela said, casting her eyes downwards and then glancing at Liudger who she saw was watching the exchange with a degree of interest. "You will not regret it."
"There shall be nothing to regret, I'm sure. So, that being settled, we'll be leaving just as soon as we can. Time to get ready." Aldric turned and walked back over to Liudger to ensure he had heard all of their conversation. He had.
The countryside passed by quietly, except for the rather incessant chatter of birds and the occasional buzzing of airborn insects. The musical chirps composed a unique melody that seemed to change moment to moment and a few swats took care of the stinging variety of annoying insects. Thus, the first half of the day passed, and at the sun's highest point, they entered the village of Sneek.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 01-06-2005 @ 08:40 PM).]
"To the right and then to the left," the peasant directed. "About thirty paces each way. You'll know by the wooden sign that shows a lamb with grain resting on woven cloth. That's our merchantile store." Aldric smiled and offered a courteous bow. This took the peasant back a bit as he couldn't remember when at any time someone bowed in his direction. It brought a bit of a smile to his weatherbeaten face which Aldric's smile mirrored. Liudger remained carefully silent all of this time, as did Gisela.
"Are ye merchants?" asked the peasant suddenly. Aldric, who had turned paused a moment. He did not want to seem uncourteous.
"Yes, we are."
"The woman is a merchant?"
"No, she and the child are in our charge for transport to another village. For a fee," Aldric added.
The peasant scratched his head while thinking his next thought. "What do ye sell?"
"We have nothing to sell, good villager," said Aldric. "We are buying on this trip."
"What merchandise? Perhaps we have something to sell of interest to you."
"Old things, villager. We buy old things: artifacts, ancient charms, trinkets, sometimes relics." Aldric noticed an odd shift in the man's expression at his saying the words "sometimes relics." He stepped closer. "Why?" asked Aldric. "Do you know of something like this we could buy?
"You are Frisian, stranger?"
"Yes, a stranger here, but I am Frisian."
"Then you will know how poor we are, how difficult times can be. We know you mean to buy goods and food. We have so little ourselves..."
Aldric nodded. "A coin for your directions then, good villager? And perhaps for a little advice on where we should go to find what we seek?"
The villager looked around noting that the others had now gone on about their business, their curiousity salved as to the strangers and their purpose in the village. He who sought the coin nodded. Aldric carried some of their coin and so he turned about and pulled out two modest Frisian coins and offered them to the villager. His eyes opened wide. Modest the coins might be, but to one who must barter for all that he has by giving all that he can do, it was the same as a fortune in gold. "The coins are yours for the information you give."
"I have heard that Dokkum is home to many such things brought there in the days when little tolerance for the Roman Church existed," the villager began. "That has stopped now, I suppose, but the items remain there. You might find someone willing to sell."
"Anything there in particular you might know of? A book maybe?" Aldric shifted the coins about in his hand making sure the glint off the surface was clearly visible.
"Once, Frisians from Dokkum rode through here. One was rather loud and boastful. His comrades tried to quiet him down, but he carried on anyway until finally he passed out from drink. He said they had a book, one once carried by a missionary. He was killed they said by Frisians and the book contained magic that the missionary had used to mesmerize them. They took the book to make sure it would not be used again to mesmerize and enslave them. One less weapon in Frankish hands was one less worry for Frisians, he said before his head hit the tavern table. That's all that I heard." The villager went silent, an expectant look in his eyes and his hand low, and open.
Aldric pressed the two coins into the man's open hand. He did not know if the information was accurate or not. Frisians could be elaborate storytellers; but this man seemed sincere and earnest. No doubt a family was involved compelling him to do what was needed for the coins. Aldric thanked him and this time walked deliberately towards Liudger and never looked back. Wordlessly he motioned in the direction they should go. As if sensing it was best not to speak of their talk with the villager, Liudger allowed Aldric to lead them towards the village merchantile store.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 02-02-2005 @ 09:10 PM).]
"Strangers, where do you hail from?" came the words from the local sheriff's mouth, each word painted with distrust and a measured warning.
Aldric saw the need to answer and without prompting from Liudger did so. "We come from the south." That was truth enough.
"From where south of here." This was more of a demand than a question.
"The border with the Franks."
The sheriff and his three associates, armed with swords, light chain mail and helmet kept moving their focus from one traveler to the other and back again. "One of you says much, the other says nothing. Are you Frisian?"
"I am," replied Aldric.
"Is he?" said the Sheriff as he motioned towards Liudger.
"No," answered Aldric. "He is Frankish and speaks very little of our language. That's why I travel with him."
"What relics are you seeking?"
"Oh, you heard about us. Do you have some to sell?"
"Don't play with my words, Frisian. "I asked you a question. Answer it."
"Certainly. Any you might have to sell. The older the better. We have clients who we represent who would be most interested in placing any ancient item or relic from this land on display."
"Who are these clients?"
"They wish to remain anonymous. We act on their behalf. For purposes of those who wish to sell, we are the buyers. If there is no wish to sell, we say well met and depart. Peacefully." Aldric decided to add that last word just for emphasis.
"And the woman?"
"Paid us for accompanied passage for herself and her child. Her husband died and she cannot make her home where it was when he died. Sad circumstance for her, opportunity for us. You wouldn't begrudge a few merchants an added source of revenue, especially if prospects of finding what they seek are very poor indeed?"
"What "I already told you. Nothing in particular here, whatever might be discovered for sale. That is all. It seems there is nothing, so we go on. Now, may we leave?" "I don't know, you asked about a particular relic..." "We offered some information based on rumor. We were told about a relic that might be for sale. There is more than one curiousity still existing in this land, of that I am sure. It is but one of a number of possible acquisitions for our clients. We only have so much room to carry items and limited means to purchase them. If we see it, maybe we'll buy it. Then again..." "Alright, alright. I understand your meaning. My advice young Frisian is to leave this village and take your Frankish merchant with you." "Our intentions exactly, Sheriff. We would be gone by now if not for this... conversation." The Sheriff gave Aldric one last long look in the eye, then turned around and motioned to his men to follow. Aldric and Liudger wasted no time in finishing their loading of the pack horse. As quickly as they could they were away from Sneek and on their way north once again. The Sheriff watched them as they rode northwards. He motioned to one of his men and gave him instructions to ride swiftly north and advise the Sheriff of the merchants' approach. "All of the way to Dokkum," he said to the guardhouse soldier. "There is something here I don't like." He continued to watch Aldric, Liudger, Gisela and Rosamund as they rode their horses out of the village's and Sheriff's view. [This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 02-08-2005 @ 04:12 PM).]
“Mark my words, he did not trust us; I am sure he has sent someone on ahead of us. I know that look he gave all to well.”
Gisela’s face grew worried and her frame wilted into the saddle, “I should not have stayed with you, for it seems that I am causing questions to be asked and the answers do not seem to please the ears that hear them.”
Sorrowfully she glanced up from her thoughts and her eyes locked with Liudger, something caught her gaze and held it as his answer floated back to her, a strange feeling settled in on her.
“The mistrust is not just about Rosamund and you, Gisela. I too am out of place up here, what little of the language I know is not enough to help Aldric.” Liudger sighed, pulled his gaze away from Gisela and tightened the parcels on his horse.
“The land is hard to navigate, Liudger, don’t put all this blame on yourselves,” Aldric kindly responded at the worried words his companions had just voiced. “We must press on towards Dokkum, my map from Father Anslech, shows us to be on the right track and it will not take us to long to reach Dokkum. Possibly if we make good time we may get to the community of Leeuwarden, or maybe we should strike out across the land and follow the river towards Dokkum.
Rosamund was stroking Hisbold on the nose ever so gently when the stallion cocked his ears at the sound of his masters voice. Ever so gently he nudged Rosamund aside and stepped out of the trail they were on and took a few steps towards the direction of the river.
Startled Aldric leaned down and swept the small girl up in the saddle with him. Rosamund laughed gleefully not realizing the serious nature of the discussion of the adults and thinking Aldric was at play with her.
Thoughtfully Aldric stretched his hand out and patted the neck of the big stallion, “It appears Hisbold is taking the river path, should we take his lead Liudger? According to the map we will end up in Dokkum by more of a direct route.”
Gisela instinctively glanced at Rosamund. The little girl seemed well and at ease. Gisela decided. "I will go where you lead." Her gaze remained fixed on Liudger just a moment longer than could be attributed to the length of her message. Liudger blinked. Yes, he heard her answer, but there seemed to be more communicated than just the words. But what?
The Frankish Captain shook his head. "Okay, it is decided then. We go to Dokkum." He allowed the others to join him and they began to ride northward towards Dokkum.
___________________________________________________________
"To Dokkum, to Dokkum. Why must I be the one to go to Dokkum," complained Grimald. "Teach one this, teach one that." The mule he rode didn't seem to care much about his irritation. "My garden is just about to bloom and I go to Dokkum." The mule pulled up short at the river's edge. Grimald looked at the sun hovering just above the horizon. "Camp here or there? Which do you think, hmm?"
The mule's ear twitched. It obviously didn't care which so long as there was fresh grass. "Here," decided Grimald. "Here is best." Moments later his line was in the river looking for fish for supper and breakfast.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 02-11-2005 @ 03:46 PM).]
The flotsam in which the hook had found its perch broke loose, rose to the surface, and if not for the hook and line would surely have begun a fast journey down the river. Grimald did not want to loose his sole fishing line and so he hung on to the now taut line using his sandals as braces in the soft soil of the river bank. The soil however was far to soft and the distressed brother found himself being relentless dragged towards the swiftly flowing river. So preoccupied was he with his predicament he hardly noticed the arrival at that moment of three riders and a pack animal.
"Ho Brother!" called out the younger of the two men, thus startling Grimald so substantially he nearly lost hold of the line. "Have you the king of fishes on that line?!"
Recovering the best he could Grimald looked over his shoulder at the young man who spoke to him, the one holding the young girl-child. "Would that it were! Instead I think it is just debris as no fish I know would disguise itself as a piece of felled tree!"
"Can we give you aid?"
"Yes! And pray the line holds together!"
The two men dismounted and each found a place on the line to take hold and pull. Sadly, the line would have none of it and it separated under the power of their pull. Three grown men found themselves prostrate on the river bank holding a much shortened length of line and hearing only the giggles of a little girl above the whoosh of the river water. The older woman accompanying them hid her smile behind the palm of her hand, but the crinkling at the corner of her eyes gave away the fact that she silently found the event as amusing as the child.
The men looked at each other with varied expressions of surprise and distress. The younger one began to apologize profusely. Grimald looked at him seeing something familiar about the lad but unable to describe it to himself. Then the monk began to laugh, a hearty laugh, one that dispelled all other thought except the humor of the situation. All joined in, including the woman who could no longer contain her mirth, and of course the giggling child.
"No more fish for me I fear," said Grimald wiping a tear from his eye.
"Not to worry, good brother," said the young man. "We have line as well and we shall be more than happy to supplement your catch with our own."
"Kind of you." Grimald looked at the sun's position on the western horizon. "The light will soon fail. Shall you be camping here this evening?"
"We do not wish to crowd your camp, Brother," said the lad looking to the silent older man for agreement.
Grimald quickly considered the lonliness of his journey and decided to end it at least for an evening. "You should not be concerned. Camp here if you'd like. There is plenty of room. We shall fish some more, for other than what I last caught I pray, and pass the night in company."
"Most kind of you, Brother," replied the lad. "I think as we secure our belongings and draw out our line we should introduce ourselves." This is what they did in the course of drawing from the river a reasonable bounty of fish to supplement the supplies they all had brought for their respective journeys.
They learned more about each other that night, but not the truth. Grimald spoke of his task of tutoring a wealthy Frisian merchant's family, and Aldric spoke of their own plans as merchants of artifacts. Liudger spoke little, if at all, and the woman spoke only to her child.
Grimald's itch became almost intollerable. Relief came after a quiet moment following a full repast in which Grimald dozed off. Images of abbeys passed through his mind including the Abbey of St. Remacles and then his little domicile in the place from which he began this current journey.
Yes, St. Remacles... Grimald woke with a start to see the others starring at him, far more awake than he, and with expressions on their face that suggested concern, perhaps even alarm. Recognition flooded in with wakefullness. "I know you now!" he exclaimed. "You are not merchants at all. I remember you in the robes of a novice and you (pointing to Liudger) in uniform and armor." He paused, becoming much more careful with his words realizing something was afoot here that begged for caution. "Are you on a quest?"
Aldric looked at Liudger. The soldier nodded. "Brother Grimald, as you are of the Abbey and man of God I ask that you swear on your Faith not to breathe a word to anyone."
"So sworn," replied Grimald. He looked from face to face to emphasize his oath.
Aldric nodded then began the story of their mission and what they hoped to achieve. Much discussion ensued in which Brother Grimald pleaded the opportunity to help in such a noble quest and made note in particular of the need for an advance look in Dokkum and the need for someone like himself to enter the city first, learn what he could, and then inform them later. All the while, he cautioned them to appear much later after his arrival so no connections between them could be determined by the Frisian authorities.
"Free as I will be to move about Dokkum, you will be observed continuously. I think that would be the best way to proceed. Do you?"
Liudger considered and agreed. "Then it is set. You leave at first light tomorrow. We shall depart first light the following day and enter Dokkum. You will seek us out and share what you have learned. We shall rely upon your discretion to find the best and most secretive way to do so. Nobody else is to be involved or know our purpose."
"Agreed," said Grimald. As night wore on, it was his mule who slept best, because Grimald, thrilled by his pending adventure could hardly sleep at all. Even so, when morning came Grimald felt just as fresh as if his night had been filled with sleep and he mounted his mule quite eager to fulfill his role as he understood it. As he carefully made his way across the river, he looked back only once upon reaching the far side to wave to his new companions before setting heel to flank and urging his mule forward.
That night it rained, and the river became significantly swifter, somewhat deeper. The morning of the second day following Grimald's departure saw the waters somewhat more tame, but not as tame as when Grimald forded the stream. At water's edge where the fording seemed best, the travelers stared at the river and hesitated.
Keeping a tight grip on Rosamund and the other on her reins she urged her mount into the water.
“Stay steady Gisela; hold him.” Liudger’s clam voice spoke right behind her.
She shot a quick look back at Liudger, smiled reassuringly, and nudged her horse forward.
“Beautiful eyes…” thought Liudger, a little surprised that it had occurred to him .
It was admiringly apparent Gisela’s upbringing had given her the knowledge of riding, for she had no problem navigating the horse while her hand gently held Rosamund closely to her. Liudger followed the young mother closely as he scanned the water before them. It was this attentive closeness that gave Liudger the edge in what transpired next.
As Gisela navigated the water the horse had stepped into a hole, throwing mother and daughter off balance and toppling them into the rushing water.
Liudger watched helplessly as Rosamund was thrown from her mother’s arms. The water instantly separated the small child from the reach of her mother. Franticly calling to her mother, the water pulled her away.
As his eyes followed Rosamund, all the anger and desperation that Liudger had been burying deep inside since the loss of his men weeks before, came spilling out it a vehement oath. Knowing he couldn’t bear the loss of another under his care, he plunged into the water after Rosamund and with a few strong strokes reached the frightened child. A few strokes more and they had reached the side they had been crossing over to.
Gisela was deftly rescued by Aldric who had wheeled Hisbold around and caught her before she had been taken any farther by the swiftly moving water. As he gently helped her slip off of Hisbold, and she ran to Liudger and Rosamund.
Rosamund had wrapped her little arms around Liudger’s neck and still had them locked around him. As Gisela knelt beside him and wrapped them both gratefully in her arms, she felt Liudger’s strong arms pull her in to his kneeling grasp and hold her as close as Rosamund held him.
Aldric watched the emotion play across Liudger’s face and saw the hard demeanor fall away from the kneeling knight. As his eyes met Liudger’s he knew something special had just taken a hold of the man before him. A protective look had now replaced the look of determination, and Liudger nodded a knowing look back to Aldric.
The moment passed, all were dried off and travel preparations began again. Soon they were back on their way towards Dokkum. As the day wore on they made good time; soon their ride brought them to the edge of Dokkum and their meeting with Grimald.
Surprisingly it was Liudger that had the company of Rosamund, as they made better time than Liudger had expected. She slept against him her little arms tightly clasped around him. Soon Dokkum soon came into the weary riders view.
East of the town they saw the ruins of a moss covered stone structure positioned on a hill and dwarfed at the hill's peak by an ancient, multi-branched oak. Liudger had seen structures of this kind before when on campaign for Charlemagne. The structure was not for living, it was for dying. More accurately, for the dead. The stone structure marked the site of a Druid burial mound and the mound itself a manmade structure created as a last resting place for those among the Druids who had passed into the great forests beyond sight of man.
The travelers could see Frisian townfolk going about their business, crossing the road, entering and exiting buildings. In the distance Liudger saw uniformed Frisians who seemed to be watching those who traversed the road. Liudger cleared his throat. "Rosamund, you must return to your mother's horse."
"Why?" said the girl plaintively.
"Because we are going into a new place and we will be meeting new people. You should meet them with you mother."
Not understanding but willing to obey, Rosamund let go of Liudger and put her hands out to Gisela. Liudger nudged his horse closer to Gisela's and the transfer was accomplished. Liudger motioned to Aldric, about three paces away surveying the town for himself, to join them in a tight group, then waited patiently for the young man to join them. Aldric brought Hisbold up closely and waited to hear what Liudger wanted to say.
"Dokkum has a military group of its own far larger than any we've encountered so far. They will be on the alert for strangers, especially Franks. Remember that Grimald is to remain aloof from us for a period to diminish any Frisian suspicions since we all will be newly arrived even if not arrived together. These Frisians are a suspicious lot. Aldric will speak for us. You are my wife, this is our child." Liudger paused in his instructions as he looked at Gisela and Rosamund. An odd expression passed over his face as if a stray thought had suddenly distracted him. He recovered his line of thinking soon enough and returned to his instructions. "We seek the local purveyor of artifacts and would do business if there is something of interest to buy. Yes, we are Franks, but merchants only.
"But you are not my Da," came the very young voice of the girl with her mother. "My Da is there." She pointed in the direction from which they had just come. Gisela acted immediately to hush the child. Liudger stopped her.
"Rosamund, I know I am not your Da. Just for fun, in this town, can we pretend? Will you pretend with me?"
The child considered Liudger's request, her face cutely screwed up into a thoughtful expression. "It will be fun to have a Da again," she agreed. "I will."
Gisela's face colored and she had to look away before the tears welling up in her eyes could be seen by any, especially the child. Liudger heard a man's voice that sounded incredibly like his own reply "It will be fun to be your Da, Rosamund." Liudger blinked, then glanced at Gisela, and looked away. "We shall enter the town now," he said as he turned his horse in the direction of Dokkum and with a double tongue click and a press of heel upon flank, he gave his horse the command to go forward.
[This message has been edited by Civis Romanus (edited 06-07-2005 @ 04:09 PM).]
They rode quietly, Gisela close behind the men who rode side by side. Rosamund rode quietly and watched the townsfolk as the horses carried them deeper into Dokkum.
The feeling of watching eyes stole over Aldric and he turned towards Liudger to see if he felt it also. The nod of acknowledgement he got from him affirmed the fact that he was not alone in the feeling. Looking back at Gisela riding right behind Liudger he caught a glimpse of Rosamund hiding beneath her mother’s cloak.
Little Rosamund had grown very quiet and her eyes wide as she watched as men, dressed like the ones who had left her fatherless, moved through the road. She hid deeper in her mothers riding garments as one turned and stared intently at them.
Aldric’s grip tightened on Hisbold; he could feel the big horse tense underneath him as they turned to go down a path in the direction of the purveyor’s establishment. Suddenly a gruff voice startled both rider and horse.
“State your business! Why are you here strangers?”
The inquiry came from one of the soldiers walking the edge of the path, close enough that he startled Hisbold and the large animal side stepped away from the irritated voice.
Aldric inwardly prayed, took a deep breath and prepared to face the confronting soldier, as Liudger stopped beside him. Pulling the reins so Hisbold came to a quick stop, he took a deep breath and turned back to answer the soldier.
[This message has been edited by Lady Arcola (edited 06-03-2005 @ 06:21 PM).]
Annoyance crossed the Frisian's face. "All of our inns are fine inns. That is not an answer to my question."
"Good Sir, I apologize. It has been a long journey for us and a near fatal one for the young woman and her child. Forgive us our fatique and ask again what you wish to know. We shall then make our way to one of your fine inns and continue on our business. We wish to be no problem for the warmly welcoming town of Dokkum and have no desire to be here for very long. Look how the child (nodding towards a closed eyed Rosamund) wishes to sleep even now after having nearly slipped to her death into the waters of the swollen river on the town's outskirts. As we are but goods-seeking merchants and not prize-winning athletes like you soldiers of Friesland we were hardpressed to save the young one's life. We must obtain for the child someplace to rest and perhaps even physic just to be sure that she suffers no ill effect or bad humors from the chill of the water." Aldric paused just a moment to appraise the conflicting expressions crossing the soldier's face. Good, it's working. "So, kind Sir, if you would please direct us to a reliable physician of this town we would be on our way most assuredly that much quicker and be no further a demand on your time. I'm so very sure you have an excellent physician to recommend for I see uncommonly sophisticated residents here who seem in fine health. They must feel quite safe too, as I see you and your companions maintain constant vigilence here. We feel so much safer in this town due to your efforts than we have felt since before we entered. Now which way did you say is a physician and an inn?"
By then the soldier had forgotten what he originally asked. "Uh, well, ummm." He pointed to his right. That direction, two passages and turn right for the physician, best in Dokkum. One side passage further on this road and there are multiple inns to choose. All are good." He blinked wondering how the subject had become physicians and inns.
"Wonderful. A good day to you, Sir," concluded Aldric. He turned his horse and promptly lead the rest of the party in the direction the soldier had pointed.
The solider meanwhile stared blankly at them still trying to take inventory of what he had just learned. Ah yes, merchants. Of course, that's all. Just merchants. Pass through here all of the time. Always strangers, well, at least on the first passage. No problem. All is well. Just merchants. He turned around and began to walk slowly in the direction opposite of where they had gone to find a doctor or an inn. He stopped, looked over his shoulder momentarily in their direction. Just merchants. Then he continued briskly on his way to the soldier's barracks. It was nearly dinnertime and for once he wanted his midday meal hot.
The distance grew between Aldric and the others and the inquisitive soldier. Liudger guided his horse close to Hisbold and leaned over and whispered to Aldric. "A fine weaving of truth to create subterfuge, Aldric. I suspect even our Heavenly Father might still be trying to determine if you have sinned or if you have not." Gisela laughed quietly as she overheard what was softly spoken.
"I pray He finds I did not sin," answered Aldric. Just in case, I have planned much penance to atone for what I may have done wrongly since our journey began."
"An hour collecting carrots for Hisbold should be enough," noted Liudger with a half grin. Aldric's horse's ears suddenly perked up and shifted towards Liudger.
"Shhh," said Aldric. "He understands that word and he'll be unfit company until it's given if he thinks a root should be his for some reason."
"Oh, sorry. You have some, don't you?"
"Have what?"
"Carrots." Hisbold stutter stepped a little bit and swung his head towards Liudger, his muzzle drooling more than before.
"There you've gone and done it! Now there's no hope or avoidance! Turn here by the soldier's direction, so there is no suspicion. We can find an inn from here." They turned into the side street with its row of structures each offering signage that described the proprietor's occupation. Aldric turned the balky, cranky Hisbold with sequential flicks of the reins. He then dismounted and with a glare aimed at Liudger ferreted out a half carrot from his dwindling supply and gave it to the horse. Gisela tried to hide her mirth, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
Aldric remounted his horse and with a few deliberate wanderings to allay suspicion, they soon found themselves inside the wood-fire heated public room of the Block and Axe Inn with its proprietor cooly appraising them with his one good eye.
As he spoke a young woman about his age came into the room. A beautiful girl, with long brown hair and sparkling mischievous eyes, she immediately caught the attention of the travelers.
Momentarily distracted by the intense eyes that met his gaze, Aldric, stammered and it took a moment for his thoughts to regroup. Focusing back on the stare of the proprietor, he started again to enlighten him on the condition of the mother and child impressing their need to rest from the ordeal of the river crossing earlier that day.
Aldric’s words caught the attention of the young lady; she sympathetically motioned for Gisela and Rosamund to come closer to the fire. Gisela’s tiredness over ruled her better judgment and she let her daughter slip out of her tightly held hand.
The young woman bent down to Rosamund, executing a purposely flaunting lean, and asked the small child if she was hungry. Not sure what was being said to her, Rosamund turned to Aldric.
Aldric had finished making arrangements with the inn keeper, gave him one last look and inwardly thought to himself; “What gave this man the ghastly scar that took his eye”.
Wondering was cut short as the girls request to Rosamund, caught his attention, it moved him quickly over to the child. Bending down on one knee and wrapping his arm securely around the little girl, he lifted her up into his arms and explained that the food would be welcome.
Noticing that Liudger had started moving in the direction the inn keeper had said the sleeping room was Aldric quickly turned back to the young woman.
“Will you be so kind as to point us to where we could get some food? For our journey was long.”
“I can take you to my Aunt,” the alluring voice softly said and dark eyes caught and held Aldric’s, “she provides the food for our guests. You and your friends look like you have traveled a long while today.”
“Adalwi!” bellowed the innkeeper. “Leave them! Let them get to their sleeping quarters, their hunger will lead them to kitchen with out your meddling help.”
“Don’t be so irate, Uncle or I will have Father lock you up.”
“Off with you! You impudent female, you sorely try my brother’s patience I am sure. What did Hathowulf send you over here for?”
“The evening meals of course, but you know that already, I come every day for them!”
Adalwi stomped her dainty foot, turned with an impatient flaunt as she was glancing back at Aldric. She stomped off down the hall towards the smell of food cooking.
Aldric shook himself out of his overwhelmed state and quickly took off after Liudger and Gisela. Catching up to them in the great hall he heard Liudger’s quiet laughter and saw Gisela smiling at him with a knowing look in her eyes.
“Ahh, Aldric you would think you have never met a girl your own age.” Liudger’s laughter couldn’t help following his teasing comment as he hit Aldric’s shoulder good naturedly.
“I have several sisters, Liudger, two very close to my age! A hint of exasperation crept into the usually kind tone Aldric had.
“We would be better to get Rosamund and Gisela to the sleeping area than to tease me.” Aldric quickly walked ahead of the two.
It only took a moment for the travelers to set up what they needed for sleeping. Little Rosamund was falling asleep, and Gisela offered to wait for food to be brought back for them so she could stay with her child. Both men took off quickly towards the smell of cooking food.
The eating room was of moderate size with a door leading out on the outer wall, Liudger noted the lay out as Aldric talked quietly to the smiling woman stirring the cooking pot.
“Please sit; welcome to our eating room, it will be a minute before I can serve you. Adalwi! Come girl and ready the guests for their food, they will need the extra platter for the mother and little girl.”
Adalwi stepped out into the room, immediately fixing her gaze on Aldric.
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