Blood and Iron - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I looked carefully into the drawer before reaching, in but there was no obvious snare.  The drawer was completely lined in deep pile to prevent “hollow sounds” from revealing this void, as well as preventing movement and muffling sound from the three small leather bags the drawer contained. Opening the bags, I dumped the contents on the top of the large chest.

What is it with these people and snakes!?! 

The signet ring was a hooded cobra motif, with a large marquis cut star sapphire of a rich blue coloring.  Next was an ornate skeleton key, with a cobra and sapphire gem set in the bow.  Then another “key,” with its sapphire and cobra bow and its blade consisting of a short, pencil thin square shaft ending in a “cross” point, akin to a Phillips screwdriver but not pointed.  I sat back on my heels as I studied my find.   Then it dawned on me what this was about. 

These primitive locks with their skeleton keys almost fall open with any kind of key, and were dead easy to pick with the simplest tools.  One defense of the time was subterfuge.    

My guess was that this lock was outsized with ostentatious decorations and ornate engraving.  To open it, the key goes in the obvious keyway, then the minuscule screwdriver key would be inserted into an insignificant opening concealed by embellishments, and turned to actually open the lock. 

Now that I had the keys, it was “only” necessary to find this cobra sapphire lock. 

Since the puzzle box was here in the possession of the robbers, the owner or person with best information was probably dead!   Given the traffic on the main road the robbers preyed on, “my” lock could be anywhere from Coast Castle to King Holm. 

I smiled grimly.  One more mystery to layer on top of all the others.

Putting the ring and keys back in the leather bags, I replaced them in the drawer of the puzzle box.  I closed the drawer, carefully returning the wooden laminations to their original locked condition.  The puzzle box then joined the rest of my loot at the bottom of the ladder. 

I tossed a handful of assorted coins into my belt pouch, with another assortment going in my concealed money belt.  Finally, with a last look around, I began handing my booty up the ladder.

---

I dug Alvis’ wrist sheath out of my pack while the puzzle box and light crystal went in.  The sheath went into the bag of “goodies” for Donna.   Pack and goodies were dropped at the farmhouse door. 

I walked across the lane, carrying the saddlebags past the bodies until I reached the deadfall where I had spent the night.  Looking around, I selected a Pin Oak for my pouch’s safekeeping.  Standing under a likely branch, I made a couple of tosses until my moneybag settled securely, straddling the limb.

I sauntered back toward to the farmhouse.  Seeing Donna standing in the farmyard, peering around, looking concerned, I stepped into the lane, waved, and whistled.  She spotted me, and her face was wreathed in a huge grin.

Donna was wiping her hands on her apron, saying, “Sir, I have a meal prepared.”

I nodded as I picked up the pack and bag by the door, entering the farmhouse.  Donna had opened the shutters and cleaned up.  The sunny kitchen looked much better.  I thought the pots and bowls filled with good smelling foods looked best of all.

Washing up in a basin of water on the sideboard I said:  “Thank you, Donna.  This meal looks and smells wonderful.”

It was only true!  Huge slices of ham and potatoes covered in some kind of cheese sauce.  Did I mention the big chunks of home made bread?  Thought so.

Donna smiled prettily.  “You’re welcome, Sir.  I do so love to cook.  Momma is the cook at Lusty Rose and Anchor on the docks of King Holm.  I was her apprentice, then chief cook on the galley Sandra Dear.”

I must have looked puzzled as I asked, “A galley, Donna?”

Donna answered enthusiastically, “Yes, Sir!”

Then she smiled in fond recollection as she kept spooning more food on my plate.  She continued,  “Twenty four oars and two masts.  We sailed the vast inland sea carrying goods between King Holm and Port City.”

Her smile died as she said more softly,  “Not directly to the port, and there’s the rub.”

---

We both began to eat, and there was little conversation as I shoveled excellent food into my mouth   Eventually, I pushed back from the table and its emptied plates as I sipped a glass of sweet wine.  Donna began picking up dishes. I stayed her hand and pointed at her chair.  “Please tell me what happened to your cook’s job, Donna.”

I refilled her glass as she sat frowning.  “It’s a long story, Sir, and well known to all.”

I grinned. “Pretend I know nothing about all this. I’d really like your opinion, Donna.”

Donna looked surprised that anyone would solicit her views, but she sipped her wine and gamely began.  “Port City is separated from the inland sea by a wide expanse of land.  A broad meandering river – The Red – named for the coloring it picks up from its clay banks, flows from the inland sea to the ocean.”

I nodded as she continued,  “When I first sailed, we’d pay a toll at Passage then our oarsmen would pole the galley to Port City.  We’d return against the current with our oarsman pulling us along the towpath. If we were heavily laden and the current was strong we’d hire teams of horses.”

I asked, “Passage?”

Donna smirked as she replied, “You take your pretending serious, Sir.”

Then her frown returned.  “The castle at the mouth of the Red River is called that.  The castle that controls all traffic in and around the river, source of the troubles that force the people surrounding the inland sea into financial ruin.”

She sat in silence as a big tear coursed down her cheek.  I sat quietly waiting as Donna gathered herself.  Finally, she softly continued, “It started when the man who calls himself “Sun King” toppled the leaders of Passage.  His first act was to throw them and their entire families off the highest battlements to die on the stones below.”

She continued:  “The river tolls began to climb. Then, one day, a massive chain blocked the channel.  This Sun King announced that cargo must be off-loaded on his docks then loaded on barges to be carried down river to the port.”

Now she laughed, ruefully.  “The toll, always high, climbed higher still and now varied with the cargo.  Far worse, part or even all the shipment might be confiscated at the whim of the Passage tax man.”

She sipped her wine as she continued to shake her head.  “The whole of shipping on the inland sea fell apart.  A few ships that still trade with Port City or the caravan masters and the fishermen, the rest sit idle their furled sails rotting.”

She looked up as she said, “That’s where Tor found me, on the dock, just days away from my own collar.  I make no excuse, Brock, sir. I know what we did and the cost.  If I had one wish, it would place me back on the fantail of the Sandra making for Port City.”

Donna looked forlorn as I pulled her to her feet hugging her.  She kissed my cheek then pulled back to say with some energy,  “Enough of your pretending, Brock, Sir. I must clean up if we are to have guests.”

I nodded, saying,  “It’s time for me to go to the road and meet a princess.”

Her laughter followed me into the bedroom as I dressed in my armor and gathered my weapons and toys.

---

I came out with my crossbow slung over my shoulder, carrying my Katana.  I picked up the bag of goodies for Donna and placed it on the now cleaned table, saying, “This is for you, Donna.” 

Donna looked inside, her mouth an “O” of surprise.  She upended the bag, and the coins, jewels and daggers spilled on the table. Her eyes wide, she looked up at me, stuttering finally saying, “Sir, Brock, sir this is too…”

I raised a hand halting her words as I said,  “Donna, take the weapons.  I require you to be armed now. Frankly, before this is all done, it’ll necessitate you having money.”

Donna just stood, rooted.  I grinned, saying loudly, “I leave a princess to meet a princess.”

Donna smiled now as she replied,  “Such bullshit.  But nice all the same.”

She quickly came into my arms, kissing me lustily as she ground her pelvis into mine. As she felt my hardening cock, she giggled, saying:  “Hurry back, Brock sir.”

I laughed as I turned her around and slapped her on the butt, eliciting a satisfying yelp as I walked out the door. 

---

I walked along the grassy verge of the muddy track away from the farmstead toward my rendezvous with Princess Veronica.  My thoughts were in turmoil.

Despite my brave words, there was no guarantee I could keep Donna alive.  So much depended on the mood of this royal.   A sullen, surly princess would be a very bad thing, and just about guarantee poor Donna being guest of honor at the next raising. 

A Buckthorn grove on the road’s edge by a rock wall was my blind as I waited for the princess’s coach.  Traffic was sparse, giving me pause.  Was this meager travel normal?  Had a warning been issued by the conspirators?

Slipping Nadia’s ruby ring on my left index finger, I used my spyglass to look up and down the road.  I rested my hip against the wall; breathing calmly, and staying centered, I waited. Did I mention that I hate waiting?  Thought so.

---

Movement in the distance drew my eye.  A great white coach fairly glowed in the afternoon sun as its team of six black horses trotted toward me.  

One trooper alertly cast back and forth in the van, while the rest looked bored to the point of sleep as their horses shambled along after him.  I pondered yet again why Black Baron Radcliff was not protecting her.  Sure, Radcliff’s an S.O.B but his lancers are aggressive and competent.  Everything these stupefied horsemen obviously were not! 

Fuck competent, I’d settle for conscious!

I closed my glass with an annoyed snap, dropping it in the pocket of my cloak as I stepped out on the road.  The lead trooper, who looked all of about sixteen, spurred his horse, the two-handed broadsword on his back bounced, and the hilt smacked him on the back of the head.  He rode toward me with the reins in one hand, rubbing his head with the other.

He pulled up, and standing in the stirrups to look around, announced grandly:  “I am Jeremy, of the guards.”

Then he settled back into his saddle as he asked, “Who are you and what do you want?”

Close up, Jeremy looked even more callow.  Glancing at his approaching comrades, Jeremy was the best of it. 

Holding up the “Nadia Ruby Ring,” I said calmly,  “Brock, a hunter, and I would speak with your princess, please.  She is in danger.”

As secret de-coder rings go, Nadia’s is damned impressive.  Jeremy was off his mount on one knee to kiss the ducal ring just that quick.  I was beyond surprised by his reaction. I gestured Jeremy to his feet and tossed him the ring, saying again,  “The princess, please.”

Jeremy turned and took off for the coach at a dead run, his sword beating against his back as he pelted.  I caught up his horse’s bridle.  Horse and I watched his mad dash with interest. 

As Jeremy approached the coach the door opened and a female figure dropped to the ground landing in a light and collected manner.  She was a slim athletic platinum blonde, her hair cut in a mannish fashion.  Dressed in dark green linen pants and shirt, with a Shamshir on her left hip and a Bedouin Dagger thrust in her belt.   She had a chain mail sleeve on her left arm from shoulder to wrist.

Jeremy greeted her as “Hjordis” and she utterly ignored him as she sidestepped away from him to keep me in sight.  Jeremy pounded on the coach door and was granted admission.

I walked back toward the coach unhurriedly, holding Jeremy’s horse’s reins.  Hjordis’ left hand lightly tugged the hilt of her sword loosening it in the scabbard as she observed my approach. 

The coach door popped open and Jeremy tumbled out.  He stood at something approaching attention as he handed down a radiantly lovely honey blonde dressed in a confection of light brown leather and blue silk, a riding habit, that had a split and weighted skirt with a modesty panel buttoned on the front. 

With a sunny smile she turned to me, saying,  “Hunter, I am Veronica.”

She held up Nadia’s ruby ring, saying serenely, “Perhaps you’d care to explain.”

Hjordis plucked the ring from her fingers, saying, “Ronnie, a moment.”

Squaring up to me, Hjordis settled into a balanced stance as she asked quietly,  “On which hand does the Princess wear this?”

I shrugged.  “No idea.  When she gave this ring into my keeping, Nadia was in armor and it was woven into her braid.”

Veronica sighed softly, and Hjordis visibly relaxed.   I glanced around to see all the troops gathered around us, with no one, not even Jeremy, looking outward toward possible threats.  I said, “Look, I have much to explain, but we need you off this road, Princess. This is just too dangerous.”

Veronica replied quickly, “Yes, we are on our way to Luther’s Inn.”

I shook my head.  “No, I’m sorry; that is not a good idea.  If you could follow me…”

Hjordis spoke up. “Ronnie, we must get moving, all along this road is ideal for ambush.”

She turned to me.  “Yes, we will follow you, hunter.  Lead on, and then I wish to know how you came to have a ring that every man in King Holm covets, most especially the Black Baron himself.”

---

I was sitting on Bernard’s horse in the middle of the road.  The coach and the troopers had already long since turned up the muddy track towards the farmhouse.  After some discussion, Jeremy was leaving Bernard as a lookout in “my” buckthorns. We could easily spare him to this task.  We could easily spare him if he deserted. Of all of us, Bernard could afford to miss a meal. Bernard was short, fat, bald, sloppy, and lazy.  So fat that he looked shorter than he actually was.   Slow moving and slow thinking; Bernard was a prime example of some of the less than perfect warriors looking after Veronica’s safety.

I stood up in the stirrups, looking both ways with my glass at maximum magnification, but saw no one approaching. Finally, it would be up to Bernard to tell us if anyone was interested in our tracks leaving the road. 

I eased the reins, and my horse slowly walked into the pathway.  I stopped him as I peered into the brush past the low stonewall, to see Bernard sitting on a log, his back comfortably against a tree.

I smiled coolly as, drawing my Tanto, showing it to him, I said:  “Bernard, Stay alert please.  I will be back here in a little while.  If you are asleep, I will cut your throat and tell Jeremy that’s how I found you.”

Bernard started so violently; he almost fell off his perch.  I sheathed my Tanto as I lightly kicked my mount and cantered along the muddy trail.

---

I slowed my mount to a walk, approaching the farmstead.  A veteran soldier sat on the ruined wall bordering the yard, with a crossbow on his lap.  He was calmly smoking his pipe and keeping watch down the lane. Perhaps some few were capable after all.

There had been changes since I’d left Donna to prepare for our guests. The big white coach that was sitting by the barn was least of it.

There were now three cook fires next to the farmhouse.  A haunch of beef turned on a spit over one.  Several cook pots hung on hooks over the second, while an adorable pirate labored over the grill on the third.

Okay it wasn’t a pirate!  It was Donna; in leather pants and a doeskin leather shirt, with its quite overtaxed leather laces trying desperately to keep it closed and those tits under control.  She had knee high seafarer boots, with a dagger tucked in the left one.  The wide leather belt held a straight­‑bladed fencing saber with a basket hilt on her left side, and a matching basket hilt dagger on her right. 

I stepped down and Jeremy grabbed the reins to take my mount back to the corral where, he informed me, Princess Veronica, our horsewomen was looking after all the stock.  As he took the reins Jeremy, his eyes big as dinner plates, told me excitedly that Hjordis and Donna had already had a contretemps.   He went on to say; “I think they’ve made up.” Hjordis was now helping Donna, mostly by bossing the troops helping with the meal. 

Tables had been moved out of the house and a hogshead keg of ale was sitting on a farm wagon under the big tree with a good-sized wine cask next to it. 

---

Standing in the eye of the storm, watching the activity, I laughed as Hjordis used the flat of her sword and a sharper tongue to send two soldiers fleeing from the ale keg and back to work.

I decided it made good sense to kiss the cook, first thing.  Not that kissing Donna constituted a chore!  As I walked up, she spotted me and just flowed into my arms.  Her sweet soft lips chased away my thoughts.  My fingers found the leather ties on her shirt irresistible. 

Dona was giggling softly as she pulled back to make eye contact through her blonde tresses. “Sir, you should let me finish cooking. Not that I object…”

Donna looked down at my fingers engrossed in her shirt’s drawstrings as she said, “I’m so glad you approve of my outfit.  It’s from my sea chest.  Tor never even let me open my things.  After you heard my story and giving me the daggers…”

Smiling I nodded, I looked over to see Hjordis snickering.  Releasing Donna, I strode over to Hjordis swept her into my arms and kissed her soundly.  At first she did not respond then she came to the party.  I put my lips next to her ear as I whispered,  “It’s better when you help.”

Her giggles as I let her go were an agreeable sound. Hjordis reached into her pocket and handed me Nadia’s ducal ring, saying,  “You should take better care of this.”

I shook my head as I replied, “You needed to see it, study it, be sure.”

Hjordis nodded in silent agreement. Before I could say anything more Hjordis spotted another trooper starting for the ale and she was off. Donna was laughing as she returned to her cooking duties.  Discreetly taking my leave, I wandered toward the corral.

---

The corral separated the long low stable building from the barn.  From the sounds and activity in the stable, the robbers had accumulated much livestock along with their other loot.  I stood at the corral fence and watched Veronica work.  She was putting a tall red thoroughbred through his dressage paces, controlling her mount imperceptibly, almost by telepathy.

Veronica noticed me; “Big Red” essayed a bow as she saluted with her riding crop.  She stepped down out of the saddle and walked to the fence, leading her mount.  

Veronica was armed, wearing a rapier with a simple knobbed quillon guard. On her opposite hip, a double-edged dagger with its matching quillon guard curved slightly forward, allowing blade-trapping tactics. 

When they got to the fence, Red immediately shoved his velvet nose at me, demanding attention. Veronica laughed happily:  “He is a big baby, always wanting to be the center of attention.”

Looking at me in an appraising manner she said quietly, “Unlike you, hunter, who seems quite content to live in the shadows. You seem uncomfortable being in view.”

That was a bit too close for my comfort, so I reached over the fence and pulled at the pommel of her sword.  As it came out of the scabbard I saw, the blade was wider than a “classic” rapier, slightly more edge to work with. A straightforward, well made weapon.

I let the blade fall back into the scabbard as the princess laughed saying:  “Is that all you men think of?”

I grinned:  “Not the “only” thing we think of in the presence of a beautiful woman but I am curious my lady. It is a very simple blade…”

Veronica smiled as she interrupted:  “And you were expecting something ornate, garish, gilded, perhaps crusted with jewels?”

At my slightly chagrined nod, she continued:  “Logan would not allow it.  He is my fencing instructor, an unforgiving taskmaster even to a princess.  But then my enemy at sword point would hardly be affable.”

She rubbed the red horse as she giggled merrily:  “The entire castle thinks we’re fucking.  They have no idea, I’ve actually learned to fence from the best swordsmen in the kingdoms.”

Looking into my expression, Veronica smirked:  “Brock don’t look so shocked.  I’ve been riding since before my second birthday when father put me on a horse.   I’ve spent my life around stables and barns.  Even a princess can’t avoid reality around a stable.”

I nodded again as she gave my ruby ring a speculative glance saying:  “He isn’t fucking ’her,’ either.”

At my start of surprise, Veronica laughed, continuing,  “Logan finds the ladies of nobility, tedious and annoying.  This of course makes him endlessly fascinating to many, but not Nadia or I.  We know Logan finds his pleasures in the low dives along the docks. It is the danger I think….”

Veronica’s blue eyes settled on me as she studied me in silence.  The blue became glacial as the silence built around us.  There was no smile, just her neutral expression and penetrating gaze as she asked flatly, “Your companion, Brock, she was part of the highwaymen who preyed on this road? The very ones intent on attacking my party?”

 I nodded as I said, “Yes, your grace.”

“She should be in chains, hunter, and on her way to The Raising. Yet clearly you wish her spared.  She is lovely, but somehow I don’t believe sex is the key to it.  Tell me, Hunter Brock. Tell me why I must spare a woman who would have killed me.”

Continued in Chapter 12

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