Chapter
3
Olak left the inn, and headed out to walk through the town. The
townsfolk had all returned to their labors, but everyone had a smile for him.
This was the most attention he had ever gotten, even when he was an unattached prince at his father's court. As
he passed the blacksmith's forge, he noticed the big man working to pound a
largish curved
piece of metal flat. To one side of the
building, there was an unusual looking stack of metal scrap, but Olak couldn't quite make out
what it was. He shrugged mentally and continued his walk. A group of children
were playing off to one side in an open area. One had a stick and a pot on her
head, and was pretending to attack another child with a scrap of green cloth
tied around his shoulders, fanning out the material as if his arms were wings.
Olak grinned, stopping to watch for a few moments. The children played on,
oblivious to their audience. Suddenly Olak noticed that what he thought was an
old pot on the girl's head was actually a helmet, of the kind called a 'mace
landing',
due to the flat top. A really nice helm, with filigree work on the front and all around the top. Before he could walk over and ask the child
where she got it, the door of a nearby cottage opened, and a woman leaned out.
"Alright children, time for chores!" There were groans from the
group, but they scattered, presumably to attend to their afternoon duties.
Olak wandered about for a bit longer, then
headed back to the inn. He walked
around to the stables behind the building, and pushing the door open, found
Aman happily ensconced in a huge loose box, munching his way through a scoop of sweet
feed. There was a manger full of fresh hay and a bucket of crystal clear water beside it. Olak let himself into
the box and inspected the warhorse, but everything looked fine. Aman had been
impeccably groomed, even his hooves completely cleaned out and polished. He
turned to check his gear, it too showed signs of being cleaned, polished and
repaired.
Glancing around at the stable, he noticed the hock deep clean straw, and the
floors
shined. He was liking this place
more and more.
Giving the warhorse one last
scratch, Olak let himself out of the stall. As he turned to head back to the inn, he saw
that there were several rows of harnesses hanging on the wall. That was
unusual, a small village inn wouldn't
have that many horses. Maybe it was a refit station for delivery wagons or
something like that. He stepped outside and he could smell the enticing aromas
of supper coming from the kitchen at the rear of the building. Picking up his
pace, he walked around to the front door, and went in. The inn was fullish, and as he opened the
door and stepped inside, everyone turned to look at him briefly, then returned
to their meals or drinks. Next to the fireplace, a small table was set,
but empty. Figuring this was for him, Olak headed to it. The innkeeper met him
there with glass and a bottle.
“How did you find our little
town, Sir Knight?” Daffyth asked Olak.
“Nice. And very clean and neat.”
Olak answered.
“Thank you for noticing! We do
pride ourselves on a neat and clean town. Makes life ever so much better, don’t
you think?” Daffyth responded.
He set the glass down in front
of Olak, and pulled
the cork out of the bottle of wine. Taking the glass, he poured it three
quarters full of a rich dark red wine, and handed Olak the glass. Daffyth corked the bottle and
set it on the table.
Olak swirled the wine around a
bit, then took a delicate sniff, as he had learned at court. Personally, he’d rather have a big
tankard of ale, but when one grew up Royal, one was supposed to appreciate fine wines. He took a
sip and was pleasantly surprised, this was better than average for a small inn like this
one. “Very nice! Not too dry, with a nice crisp finish.” Daffyth beamed, and
turned at the sound of his name being called from the kitchen.
“If you will excuse me, Sir
Knight, I will see what they need, and check on your supper as well.” Daffyth
said. Olak waved him off, taking
another sip of wine. Yes, things were definitely looking up.
The kitchen door swung open and Kendris came out with a
huge platter balanced on her shoulder. She stopped next to the table, and Olak sprang up
to help her.
“Here lass, let me give you a
hand!” Olak set the heavy tray on the table. “Is this all for me?” he asked in
bewilderment.
Kendris giggled. “It is, Sir
Knight, the town wants to make sure that you are well taken care of before your
big day.” She curtsied and winked at Olak, and
scampered away as Daffyth brought him a tankard of ale.
“Here you are Sir Knight, I figured
this would go down a sight better with your meal than wine.” The innkeeper set
the tankard down in front of Olak.
“My good host, is this really
all meant for me? Olak asked, waving his hand at the immense amount of food. "This would feed half the
village in a bad spell.”
Daffyth laughed “We’ve it to
spare, and can’t have you fainting away with hunger when you meet the dragon.
There now, tuck into that, we want you fit and ready.”
Olak shrugged and grinned. “If
you want to stuff me like a holiday goose, who am I to argue?” He looked down
at the groaning tabletop, and missed the innkeeper’s change of expression. Daffyth's smile disappeared, and a
frown creased his brow. Olak looked up to catch the innkeeper smoothing away
his strange
look into a bland smile.
“If there is anything else that you need Good
Knight, Kendris will take care of anything you might
wish for.” Daffyth bowed slightly and turned away to return to behind the bar.
Olak wondered briefly about the innkeeper's strange look, but then turned his
attention to the food. There was a steaming bowl of turnip pottage to start,
with a hot loaf of manchet and a dish of soft butter. On a platter was a sizzling haunch of
rare roast venison, just the way he liked it, garnished with crispy whole roasted baby potatoes. Next to that was a meat pie with a piece already
cut and waiting on a small plate, chicken, bacon and peas oozing with juices
under a flaky crust. For dessert, a huge berry tart with a pitcher of sweetened
thick cream to pour over it. Olak started eating, a bit of this, a slice of
that. Kendris was quick to remove the rapidly emptying dishes, and kept his
tankard full of the inn's excellent
ale. After the meal, Daffyth appeared at the table with a tray containing a snifter of fine brandy, and a
pipe. Never one to turn down choice intoxicants, he availed himself of both. In
due course, as the brandy and pipeweed took effect, everything seemed to be
washed with a glow, and he smiled around the room at the other customers. Some
smiled back, a few looked away, as if they were ashamed.
Olak finished
his brandy and pipe, and as he carefully set both on the table, Kendris came and whisked them
away to the bar. She returned and stopped by his chair.
"I think you are ready for
bed, Sir Knight." She giggled, and
hauled on his arm. Grinning, he stood slowly, draping his arm over her shoulders. They headed to the
stairs, Olak only weaving a little.
He waved in Daffyth's direction.
"I am off to bed, my good fellow! The food
and drink were most excellent, and I look forward to breakfast!"
"A most pleasant evening to
you,
Sir Knight!" Daffyth called to him as Kendris pulled him up the stairs to his room.
They made their way down the hall and stopped at his door. Kendris
opened it, and they went in. She didn't seem to be in too big of a hurry to
leave.
Olak kicked the door lightly to
shut it behind them, and turned Kendris in his arms. He doubted he was going to have
to make much of an effort, she had made it perfectly plain from the beginning
that she found him attractive and was interested in sharing his bed. Their lips met, and Olak scooped Kendris into his
arms and crossed to the bed. They fell on the bed together, and that was the last thing Olak thought
about for a very long time.
