Chapter Four
Olak woke late, sun streaming in through the open window. A gentle breeze stirred the gauze curtains, and he could see clear blue sky beyond the treetops. Another picture perfect day.
Stretching, he turned over in bed, noting that he was alone. He grinned in memory of the events of the night before. Never had he slept so well, once he got to sleep! He assumed Kendris was up and about her duties, since the staff's day started far earlier than the guests. He got up and made use of the chamberpot, then slid it out into the hall as was customary. The potboy would be by shortly to empty it once someone noticed it. As he was pulling on his trewes, there was a knock at the door.
"Come" he called out.
The door opened and Kendris entered, carrying a loaded tray on one shoulder. Olak sprang forward to relieve her of the weight, sliding the tray onto the table. Much like supper the evening before, the tray was loaded. A plate of bacon fried crisp, another of sliced ham, hard boiled eggs, fried eggs, biscuits already slathered in melting butter. To round out the meal was a bowl of honeyed fruit, and a stack of pancakes dripping with even more butter, the top of the stack covered in a thick layer of berry jam. A pot of tea with sugar and cream and a tankard of ale finished the repast.
Olak laughed. "If I stay here long, I'm going to be fat as a goose ready for the oven!"
Kendris giggled. "Tis to give you strength for the task ahead, good Knight. I will leave you to enjoy it." She kissed his cheek and skipped out the door, closing it behind her.
Olak sat down and tucked in. Like supper, it was excellent. After last night's exercise, he was famished, and demolished the entire tray. Leaning back in his chair, he sipped his ale thinking about the coming event this evening, was there really a dragon? Or just a large lizard that was big enough to kill the sacrifice, provided they were chained up and couldn't fight back. There hadn't been a live dragon anywhere that he knew of since his great-grandfather's time, and the last recorded one alive had been small, barely the size of a pony. It did still breathe fire, and according to the record he'd read, could give you a painful scorch or set your clothes on fire if you weren't careful around it. Olak supposed it could have eaten a person, if given the chance.
There was a tap at the door just as Olak was finishing breakfast. "Come!" He called out. The door swung open, and the mayor stood framed in it.
"Good Knight, I have brought the town blacksmith to check over your gear for any damage or weak spots. When facing a dragon, it is best to have all your equipment up to the very best standards." Kreed Dogin gestured behind him to the blacksmith and his two apprentices standing there.
"Enter then my good fellows, and have a go at my rig." Olak gestured to the armor stand in the corner. The mayor bowed himself out, and the blacksmith got to work.
The assistants began unpacking the bags they were carrying, as the smith took the breastplate off of the stand and began a close inspection of it. He turned and motioned to one of his apprentices, who took the piece of armor and sat on the floor with polishing rags and jars in easy reach. As she opened a jar and dipped out some polish, the smith repeated his inspection on the helmet, testing the straps and inspecting the padding. Satisfied that they knew what they were doing, Olak drained the rest of his ale, set the tankard down on the table, and headed out the door to go check on Aman. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Daffyth spotted him and grinned.
"Sleep well?" The innkeeper asked, eyebrows doing a jig up and down on his face. "Well rested, I presume?"
Olak grinned back. "Very well rested, thank you. And tell your cook that breakfast was wonderful!"
"I will, she'll be thrilled. She lives to make people happy with her food." Daffyth replied. "Is there anything I can do for you, Sir Knight?"
"Not a thing, my good man, I'm off to give my warsteed a bit of a workout, and inspect my tack. I want to be ready for this evening." Olak answered.
"Well then, let me know if there is anything we can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask. Luncheon will be ready noonish." Daffyth said.
Olak laughed and waved, turning to head out the front door. As he walked around to the stable, he noticed a larger than yesterday group hanging around in the vicinity of the inn. Probably wanting to get a look at the Hero. Olak smiled to himself and continued to the stable.
As he stepped in the stable door and whistled, Aman looked up from a bucket hanging next to his hay rack. He whickered a greeting, sweet feed falling from his lips as he chewed. Olak entered the stall, smirking as Aman buried his nose back into the bucket. Olak checked him over, but he couldn't find anything to complain about, Aman had been groomed within an inch of his life, his coat was soft and gleamed, his hooves shiny and polished. When Olak lifted a hoof, he saw that the warhorse had been newly shod, probably this morning, since there wasn't a scratch on the shoe. Not that there would be, the straw was knee deep, and completely clean. The stablegirl must be checking hourly and replacing the bedding.
Olak slapped the warhorse on the shoulder. "You're putting on weight, and no wonder. We stay here much longer, we might not ever leave. This place is amazing. Maybe I'll build a summer house here." Aman swiveled his ears back so he could listen while he ate.
Olak stepped out of the stall and looked around for his tack. Before he could shout for someone, Zusi came out of the tackroom carrying his saddle. She jumped when she saw Olak, her eyes wide.
"Oh, Sir Knight, you startled me! I was just cleaning and repairing your tack, it is all finished and ready for your inspection."
Olak held out his hands, and the girl surrendered the saddle. She darted back into the tackroom and brought out his bridle, the metalwork so highly polished that he could see everything in the stable reflected in the surfce. The blanket hanging on the side of the stall had been freshly washed and dried. Now this was the way they should be treated! Not like the last place where they couldn't get him out of town fast enough, despite cleaning out a nest of bandits for them.
Olak saddled up and took Aman out for some exercise. As he turned into the lane, he noticed the warhorse was a bit slower than usual. He tapped his spurs to Aman's sides to speed him up a bit. The warhorse turned and looked at Olak sadly, but obliged by increasing his speed until he was at a slow canter, pretty much all the speed Olak could ever coax out of the aging beast these days. He noticed that the horse's barrel seemed larger, probably all the food the warsteed had been stuffing himself with over the last two days. Greedy pig. Zusi have noticed and lengthened the saddle girth to fit, it wasn't too tight and pinching when he saddled up.
Olak cantered around the town for an hour, giving the warhorse's legs a good stretch. He allowed Aman to walk back to the inn to cool down, although as they grew closer, the horse sped up. Olak laughed and slapped Aman's shoulder affectionately.
Maybe when I slay the 'dragon', I'll ask for a new warhorse and leave you here to retire. You can live out your days at my summer house."
The horse snorted as if he could understand Olak, and then pricked his ears, as he saw the inn in the distance. His walk increased to a slow trot, and Olak pulled him up in the stableyard, grinning at the aging beast. Zusi came out of the stable, and Aman started to do an impatient little dance, wanting Olak off his back now so he could return to the pampering the warsteed obviously thought was his due.
Zusi giggled, and took the reins that Olak tossed to her as he dismounted. I think someone is ready for lunch!" she exclaimed.
"That he is. Now, don't overfeed him, I need him in top shape this evening." Olak told the girl.
"Absolutely, a light meal for him. Come on Aman, time for lunch and a rubdown!" Zusi led the eager warhorse away into the stable to remove his tack and groom him. Olak returned to the inn taproom where Daffyth was supervising some young people putting up decorations and restocking the bar. The innkeeper turned and spotted him.
"Sir Knight! I hope you had a pleasant morning!" The innkeeper hurried to Olak's side.
Olak waved his hand at the banners hung from the stairs and rafters. "What's all this?"
Daffyth beamed. "It's for your celebration tonight, after you slay the foul beast. We want everything to be perfect. Now, did you work up an appetite? Luri has prepared something special for your nooning."
Olak nodded. "That I did, although I'm surprised, after the breakfast I ate, I didn't think I would be hungry the rest of the day."
Daffyth grinned and took Olak by the arm, leading him to the same table he had occupied last night. "Please sit Good Knight, and I will bring you a drink. We should be done here by the time Luri has your luncheon ready."
Olak sat at 'his' table, and Daffyth waved to one of the helpers to bring a mug of ale over, and turned back to supervise the remaining work. The boy brought Olak the drink, ducking his head and smiling shyly as he set it on the table. Olak thanked him and watched the bustle as Daffyth directed the chaos like a seasoned general. Now that Olak thought about it, watching them, it was almost like they had done this before, everyone seemed to know their job very well and did it without questions.
Almost as soon as Olak completed the thought, Daffyth has rounded up his crew and had them haul out the refuse, and then he vanished into the kitchen, presumably to check on Olak's lunch. Olak leaned back and sipped his drink, thinking about tonight's exercise. A bit of sword waving, poke a few holes in the 'dragon's' hide, then back here for the celebration. From the looks of it, it was going to be a good one. Olak grinned to himself, pleased with his plan.
The kitchen door swung open, and Kendris came out with another massive platter of food. The savory aroma hit Olak even before Kendris was halfway across the taproom. As she slid the tray onto the table, Olak saw that there was a whole roast capon, a bowl of mashed tubers with a puddle of melted butter nestled on top, a huge salad with fresh tomatoes and onions, soft rolls with more butter and large bowl of trifle smothered in whipped cream.
"Lovely!" Olak exclaimed. "This is my second favorite meal in the whole world!"
Kendris giggled. "I know, Sir Knight, you told me last night. And I told Luri. She'll be making your most favorite for the celebration feast."
"Suckling pig?" Olak asked hopefully.
"Yes, with all the trimmings, just the way you like it." She batted her eyelashes at Olak. "And you should definitely save room for dessert tonight, I have something special that will be waiting for you."
Olak leered at her briefly which made Kedris giggle again. He waved her away, pulling the plate towards him. "You have enough to do I'm sure, so I can serve myself." She dropped him an impudent curtsy and vanished into the kitchen again. Olak loaded his plate and tucked in. The capon skin was crisp, the meat slid off the bones and melted in his mouth. The potatoes were like a cloud, they were so light and fluffy, the salad at peak freshness and dressed with a lovely sweet vinegar. Olak leaned back in his chair, chewing happily. What a place this was! He couldn't wait to tell his friends about it when he got back to the Palace.
Finishing up the last of the trifle, Olak finally pushed his plate away, and sighed. He wondered if Luri might be enticed to join his household as his personal cook. He'd definitely remember to ask her before he left for home. She couldn't be making that much as a village inn cook, and she was definitely wasted here.
Seeing Olak had finished, Daffyth hurried over to the table. "Is there anything I get you Sir Knight? Another tankard?"
Olak stretched his arms over his head for a moment. "Not a thing, my good man, I am totally stuffed. Once again, my compliments to the cook."
Daffyth bowed slightly from the waist. "She will be most pleased. Now, is there anything else you require?" He asked.
Olak shook his head. "It's time for me to check my gear. I'll just head up."
"Very good then. I'm sure the mayor will want to speak to you as well. I'll let him know you are getting prepared. " Daffyth told him.
Olak nodded, and turned away to head up the stairs to his room as Daffyth began clearing off the table. As he opened the door to his room and stepped inside, a bright gleam caught is eye, and he turned towards the window.
There on the stand was his armor. At least he thought it was his, he had not seen it this clean and polished since he left home. First having been the squire, and then not having one, his armor didn't get as well cared for as it should be. But this was amazing! Olak reached for one of his gauntlets and slid it on his hand. As he worked his fingers into place, he noticed the leather had been treated until it was butter soft, like the finest doeskin. He made a fist and rotated his wrist, feeling the action of the joints. It was smooth, no catching or grinding. He pulled the gauntlet off and replaced it on the stand and looked over the rest of his gear. Anything worn or the slightest bit damaged had been replaced or repaired, scratches buffed out and subtle ornamentation in the way of scrollwork had been added to every piece. He picked up his sword and slid it partially out of the scabbard. As he suspected, it was sharp enough to shave with. The leather of the scabbard had gotten the same treatment and now sported scrollwork picked out in silver. Only the scions of the richest and oldest of noble families could afford armor like this, and being the youngest, Olak had not been in line for anything better than what he received, at least until he had made a Name for himself and either won or bought new gear.Only the King had armor that was better. The rest of the gear had received the same treatment, and when Olak stepped back, he noticed the entire suit of armor glowed softly, as if lit from within. Better and better! The blacksmith must be a smith-mage, and there were now enchantments on the gear. At this point, Olak did not see how he could be anything except victorious.
