written by CJ of Wolfcreek
copyright Wolfcreek publishing 1999
The slender man was quite pleased with himself as he walked up the forest path. He wore a simple white robe and sandals and was enjoying the summer day. His smile was readily apparent and quite contrary to what one would think had you been grabbed at the last minute and informed that you were to leave home and loved ones behind.
Lothario was always happy to be out and about, it gave him new opportunities to hone his craft. Lothario was the tactician, and advised his captain in the strengths and weaknesses of any given foe. His keen eye missing not even the slightest detail of a situation. This had saved their lives many times over and explained the reluctance of Jusserand to go off into battle without him. The path led to the forest's edge and came upon the plains. He marveled at the distant horizon. The trip would have been much quicker on Eristic's mount, but Eris was not in the mood for company.
"Oh well, each journey starts with but many steps."
The summer afternoon was rather pleasant and the pace was fairly easy. As he approached the river he took note of the bridge and the ripples of water. Many times he had taken his children fishing here, and a smile crossed his lips as he began to cross. From beneath his robe he produced a small stick and proceeded to tie a length of string to it.
"That will be a gold piece for the toll" a man appeared from the underside of the bridge and stood at its end.
"And another for a fishing tax" added another who came out from beneath where Lothario had just passed. Both were shabbily dressed and held crude makeshift clubs.
"Well, I've no gold, but I'll gladly share a fish with you." And deftly he twitched the stick and sent the line flying into the water.
The men began to move in on Lothario but he seemed unconcerned. The stick bent and Lothario yelled with glee "Got one, help me it's huge" Quickly caught up in the moment and in their hunger, the men grabbed the stick and the hapless fisherman stepped back and mumbled "solventia firma" The men found themselves glued to the stick and the bridge. With a chuckle Lothario began his walk again, and calling back over his shoulder "oh yes, I'll send one of the knights to fetch you, wouldn't want to lose one of my best wands".
Yes, life and all it's adventures were but lessons for the grand test. This would be a most enjoyable lesson. E'lan would be upset upon his return but that made the reunions all the more memorable. She always gave in and forgave him for up and leaving her with the children. She had long ago accepted his nature but seemed to revel in taking out her frustration on Eris, who always happened to be the bearer of bad news.
As the knights filed out of the hall, Eris could be seen approaching. Farceur called out and asked how the family reunion went. The reflexive brushing of the bruise on his cheek answered more than his words ever could.
"Captain, my sister said this was for you. Next time, you go tell her that you have need of her husband. When do we leave? I'm not going anywhere until after I've had a decent supper."
Jusserand�s' hand on his shoulder told him there would be no wine, women or warm food this night.
Wisely, Jo~well and Jerimiah gave way to Eris and kept their distance. They were the newest of the knights and this would be their first campaign away from home. Both were experienced with the local threats but neither had ever seen let alone battled a red dragon.
Both young men were tall, but there the similarity ended. Where Jo~well was slender and quick, Jerimiah was solid and strong. Their combat tactics also were as different as their appearance. Jerimiah preferred to go straight to it and using his brute force to beat his foe into submission. Jo~well liked to use his speed to dart in, strike his prey and dart back out before his opponent could counter. This team was well balanced each knowing his role. The absence of Poltroon would not be missed.
Farceur was the self-appointed jester, always finding humor in even the most dire of circumstance. His charm with the ladies was even more famous than Jusserand�s fame with a blade. More than once they had ran from angry husbands and women pledging their undying, everlasting love. In truth, Farceur had a ladylove in every town he had visited. This explained his reluctance to go to the same town too often. He was not the type to settle down with one woman, raise children or tend crops and livestock. He was the romantic warrior and preferred a heroic death in battle to the thought of old age. To die with a blade in one hand and the other around a firm waist seemed to be his motto.
Squires produced another war-horse, this one bearing Jusserand�s crest. On a field of silver was a long sword crossed with a hoe, beneath them the field turned crimson. A mule was also brought forth and had a well padded saddle and small saddlebags on it. Provisions loaded up, the group assembled before Xanthippe one last time. They received their final orders and were allowed to set forth a list of things that the remaining knights and squires would attend to in their absence. They were assured that their families and property would be well cared for.
A voice rang out from the entry, "and don't forget to look in on E'lan or surely she'll have both Eris and my hides when we return. Oh, and send someone to the bridge to collect a couple of brigands. They look more hungry than dangerous. You know the word of release for the wand Xan".
Xanthippe nodded to Lothario and cast a half smile at Poltroon.
"You'll soon wish you had gone to battle red dragons single handedly than the task you now have, Lothario's family is now your responsibility".
Poltroon missed the humor in the ensuing laughter and accepted his humiliation, this was the job for a squire not a knight. But it would be a safe assignment, what danger could there possibly be?
copyright Wolfcreek publishing 1999
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