the Leathermines

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There was a scratching sound.  It took a few minutes for Laun to come out of sleep enough to recognize the sound that the servants and slaves of her own home used to announce their presence to their masters.  The door was still closed and locked to the outside.

Laun pulled the blanket around her and with achingly slow steps went to the door.  “Who is it?”

“Lady Laun, it is Marie.  May I come in?”

The lock was undone by Laun’s bandaged fingers and she stepped back.  The Innkeeper’s wife came in with a tray of food.  The house maid was behind her with a pitcher of water and clean linens for the room.  The door was closed and locked behind housemaid Disa and the two women busied themselves around Laun.

Laun still wore the arming harness under the blanket and nothing else.  Marie gently took the blanket from the Lady’s shoulders and only narrowed her eyes to show any emotion.  Within minutes, Laun was cloth-washed, her hair was brushed out and braided again and the clean skirt she had was being fastened at her waist, covering the warriors arming harness from there down.  Marie went to put the tunic she had lent Laun over the Lady’s arms when Laun shook her head.

“I thank you, but I do not wish to burden you further, even with clothing me.”  Marie had a small smile and a raised eyebrow at that, but only folded the light tunic and handed it to the housemaid.  “The tunic I have, torn as it is, is good enough for me.”

Marie bowed her head slightly.  “As you wish, Lady.”  Marie started to put other things away as Lady Laun sat and started to take the linen socks off her blistered feet.

“Oh!  Lady Laun, please keep those.  They will make the boots much more comfortable.”

Laun thought for a moment and said, “Thank you.  Being brought up...differently, I would not have thought about that.”

The two women cleaned, put things away and changed the bedclothes as Laun ate at the small table in the room.  It was so much better than the journey cakes or the bitter soup that Laun had eaten in the last few days.  Her stomach felt full and satisfied when she finished, a thick slice of bread spread with an herb flavored grease still on the platter.  Marie nodded to herself and cleared the small table.

The three of them left the room together, Laun insisting on carrying the backpack.  Geralk had left a while before, but had left a small note.  A thank you to Laun for her companionship and something about seeing her at the Festival was what was written on the paper, though a small scribble on the bottom took her a while to decipher as a map from the Inn to Lord Falmir’s lands.

Laun did not have much and knew that Geralk had paid for her lodgings.  It still occurred to Laun that an extra coin pressed into Marie’s hand as she had seen the merchant do may be appropriate.  With the knowledge given to her by Geralk the night before, she chose a silver coin and took Marie’s hands in hers.  “Thank you, good Marie.”  The expression in the Innkeeper’s wife’s eyes went from pleasant to pleased to happily confused as it registered that Lady Laun had given her a coin in an almost practiced greyworld way.

Marie took the backpack away from Laun and disappeared into the kitchen with it.  Laun was confused and felt a flash of panic.  The backpack came back out of the kitchens much fuller, and heavier.  Marie helped to put the straps over the cloak and opened the door of the Inn for Laun.

As Laun went out the front room door of the Inn, Marie called after her, “Good journey, Lady!”  The Innkeeper and housemaid looked at Marie as she very seldom gave a bid farewell to their guests.

It was still fairly early in the day.  The morning fog was gone, but the threat of another rainstorm kept the humidity up.  A low lying mist was clinging to the fields that Laun passed, drops of dew catching the light that sometimes came through the clouds overhead.  As the sun rose further into the sky, the clouds did dissipate, though the humidity made it very easy for Laun to sweat into her harness and tunic.

The boots were much more comfortable with the socks that Marie had insisted Laun keep.  She was able to walk for most of three miles before her aches started to become bad, but it wasn’t because of her feet, it was the heaviness of the pack.  Marie had stuffed it full of various fruits and breads and a round of cheese and a meat pie in a ceramic cooking dish wrapped in a thick cloth.  It was all very heavy, but Laun had something to eat every time she stopped that made the pack just a little lighter, as well as raising her spirits on her journey.

With as much food as she had with her, she was able to trade half the cheese for a small bottle of ale and some information at one of the huts along the road without really blinking.  The farmer that was leaning against the only tree for several leagues around the hut was friendly.  With the voice of Geralk in her ear, Laun was able to ask gently about the groups of men that had been traveling over the last week or so as she negotiated with the man for the drink.

“You know, I have been keeping this crock in the stream.  It is cooler than the water I gave you.”  The farmer was sitting on his haunches, balancing with the corked pottery bottle out in front of him.

“That does sound good, good man.  But when was the last time you had a slice of cheese this fragrant?”  She had sliced off a piece just as she had walked past the farmer, which is what had caught his attention in the first place.

The farmer looked at the bottle and then at the cheese in Laun’s hand.  “Aye.  It has been a while.  The cheesemonger hasn’t been by since before the Festival.”

Laun tried not to look surprised at the mention of the Festival.  “I guess we are the only ones who haven’t gone.”  She took off the backpack and let it slip to the ground.  Her tunic was tucked into the harness and had a new belt to keep it closed, but Laun still felt odd wearing even that amount of clothing.  “We must be alone on the road.”

The farmer leaned forward until his bottle almost touched the ground.  “Not really.  There have been men going back and forth that don’t seem to have come from the Festival.”

“Merchants, perhaps?”

“Nah.  Just men, but going past almost every day.”  The man stood up.  “Even my wife went to the Festival to be with her family, leaving me here all alone.”  He went to lean on the tree behind him.

Laun nodded.  She motioned a small amount with her fingers and said, “A slice of cheese for the bottle?”

The farmer smiled and shook his head.  “Nate up the road brewed this and the bottle it’s self is worth much more than that.  The whole cheese.”

This was familiar territory for Laun.  “I can see you aren’t serious-”  She started to turn away from the man.

“Hey!”  He stepped forward.  “How about three quarters of the cheese?”

Laun turned back.  “Well, perhaps a quarter of the cheese for the ale.”  The farmer narrowed his eyes at that.  Laun raised the cheese to her eye level and said, “I could just go up the road and find those men to trade it to.”

The farmer looked at the bottle in his hand and then at the cheese in Laun’s.  He looked like he was weighing the bottle against the cotton-wrapped cheese in her hand.  “They seemed to always have more than enough when they went back down the road...”

Laun noted which way the farmer had tilted his head.  “If you show me where that cold stream is, I will trade half of the cheese for the ale in your hand.”

“Done.”  The farmer held out the bottle.  Laun unsheathed one of the small knives on her utility belt connected to the arming harness and swiftly cut the cheese in half, including a small slice she tore in half.  Putting the knife away, she held out one half of the cheese with a torn slice on top to the farmer.  The exchange was made and they both ate their part of the torn slice.

The look on the farmer’s face showed that he hadn’t had cheese in quite some time.  His smile was broad as he motioned for her to follow and in a few strides they came to a hidden embankment.  The stream was clear, only about a foot deep and lined with rounded pebbles, not silt and mud.

“Thank you, good man.  A more pleasant water I have never seen.”  Laun knelt down and put her hand into the water, bringing up a palmful to her lips.  The cape and tunic fell away from her, showing the straps of the arming harness and the slightly tarnished brass talon ripping into the circle of the buckle.  The cloth belt that Marie had insisted that she take held the tunic modestly to her, but there was enough showing that the farmer made a half step away without realizing it.

Laun noticed, but misinterpreted the action.  “I will not fall in, good man.  Though it may be refreshing on this hot day.”  Another palmful went on her face, cooling her and washing some of the road dirt form her.  She unplugged the empty wineskin and held it below the surface to fill it.

The farmer nodded and made a half bow.  “Is there anything else you need, Lady?”

Laun caught on, but did not push it any further than the farmer had mentioned it.  “With this ale to keep me on my journey, I think that you have more than helped me.  I just wish I could have thanked your good wife for allowing you to keep such in this beautiful stream.”  Laun stood and held out her hand to the man, not for him to kiss, but as a proper warrior’s grip as Laun had seen the visiting Lords and warriors do at Salam-Dir.

Tentatively, the farmer took the offered hand and lightly shook it.  Laun tried not to wince at even that slight pressure and tried to smile broadly.  “Thank you, Lady.  I hope you have a good journey to wherever you are going.”

“As do I.”  Laun went to her pack, carefully put the food and drink in and headed out down the road in the direction the farmer had indicated.  Laun glanced back once and saw that the man was again under the lone tree, this time with another bottle of ale and the half round of cheese.

Laun came to a small crossroads and was not sure which way to go.  She was able to search in the smaller farmer’s village along the road for signs of the bandits and was able to talk to one of the wives airing laundry out on a sapling near her hovel.  Laun had learned by watching Geralk a way of being calm and talkative to get some information out of people, though with the agitation of the woman with the laundry, any calm Laun showed would be eaten up by the chaos of the flapping linens.  The farmerwife was voicing her concern that the men who kept going past the small village kicked up too much dust, even with the rain from the night before.  Laun thanked the farmerwife for the clear, cold water from the rain barrel and started down the road in the direction she had indicated the large group of men kept coming from.

Along the top of the boots, Laun felt another set of blisters starting where the socks ended but the boots did not.  They were not as painful as the rubbing sores she had under the straps on her shoulders.  The heat of the cloak on her shoulders made her sweat, the sweat soaked into the leather and the leather stretched and moved and rubbed and made carrying the backpack more and more difficult.  Laun concentrated on going from hut to hut, farm to farm to keep traveling.

Chapter 5 The raiders are found, a plan is pushed

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