There were clouds in the sky still, but they did not seem to threaten rain just yet. She pinpointed east and continued in that direction. A river separated Mor and Veram so when she found that, she would head as north as possible and eventually come to the town for which she was looking. There she would find a small inn where she could rest and replenish her supplies. She had grossly underestimated how much food she would need and calculated she would only have enough oats to last her another few days.
Valerie enjoyed her walk, she did not feel the need to rush, but she was aware of keeping a steady pace. The rains would only mask her trail for so long, and that did not take into account any magical aid her father and the Council might employ.
She could not be sure what the time was, but she had no doubt her disappearance would have been noticed by now. No doubt, her father would have debated with himself what to do about her note. Hopefully he had decided to let her go. According to the epic tales in the songs, guests did not take very long, so she would probably be back in a couple of weeks. By all accounts, once they were being looked for, wizards were quite easy to find and the quests they set, while difficult, were quick for the hero to overcome. Valerie smiled as she strode along. She fully believed that her quest would be just as easy and she would pass it spectacularly and arrive home to fanfare and the gratitude of the whole court. She would not have to marry anyone she did not want – especially that horrible Lord Wilmont – and she could take on a position of leadership in the Senior Corps.
The day passed quickly, with Valerie dreaming of the future; her finding the wizard, her quest, her return home.
She stopped for lunch soon after she figured it to be midday. She lit a small fire to cook up a mixture of flour, water and salt into a sort of flatbread type food. It was not, of course, the most delicious fare she had ever eaten, but it was warm and filling and she felt a sense of pride at putting her training to good use and taking care of herself. She had worried she had forgotten a flint – she could not remember putting one in – but she found one in a pocket of her bag after much rummaging which she assumed had been there since her last training trip.
Night started to fall and, so far, Valerie had avoided any rain. Her clothes had dried out. They were starting to feel a bit crusty against her skin, but that was nothing she hadn’t encountered before in training. She felt properly on a quest now, roughing it and living by her wits.
She began to keep an eye out for somewhere to sleep. By her reckoning, there was probably about an hour or so of usable light. The wind had picked up a bit during the day and it had a cool edge to it. Valerie hoped to find somewhere she could light a small fire. During the day, she had found some herbs she could add to her bread. She was thankful that she thought to bring twice as much flour as oats, or she would have gone hungry for sure.
Valerie finally found a small cave in a giant rock-face in which she could shelter, though with a fire she only just fit. She found some wood and set it to blaze near the opening of her cave. She picked up the largest, flattest rock she could find and positioned it on top of the fire to heat up for her bread. Then she sat down next to the fire to relax for a little bit after eating.
She woke what must not have been very long after. The sun had not quite set yet. Valerie cursed as she remembered she had not gone to fill up her water skin. The fire was still blazing away comfortably, but she was not sure how long her spare wood would last. Valerie picked up her skin and crawled out of the cave.
She stretched, already feeling cramped and started walking to a stream she had passed a little while ago. She filled her skin, took a deep drink, then filled it again. She wished she had brought her bowl and mug to store up extra water overnight, but she could fill her skin up again in the morning. She gave her hands and face a quick wash before heading back to her cave, picking up a few sticks and branches as she went to ensure she had enough wood to keep the fire going as long as possible.
She was glad it was summer with no real need for a fire. She remembered well the time she had gone camping with the other trainees as part of their training. It had been early winter then, the ground almost frozen already and so much cold, stinging rain. They had all been miserable, though Valerie looked back on that time with an appreciation that Gillam had been teaching them something valuable.
Valerie passed the night in relative comfort, her belly full and plenty of water for the night. Before she kept on her way, she refilled her water skin and bundled some wood on her pack; she had no doubt she would be able to find some when she needed it next, but there was no harm in being prepared.
The next day passed much as the first and, when the sun began to fall once more, she started looking for a place to sleep. There was relatively flat land for as far as her eyes could see – though she granted that was not far due to the dense foliage – interspersed with trees and she could see a small stream.
She looked up at the sky. Clouds still puffed along. They were the kind of clouds that may or may not rain and would keep you guessing all night. She shrugged, knowing there was little she could do about it. She found herself the tree with the most dense foliage in sight and set up camp next to that.
The tree was on the bank of the stream and the ground was a little damp. She set up her fire and lay her coat – oiled-side down – on the ground to sit on. She mixed together the ingredients for her bread – she even had some herbs left over that she added – and set it to cook. She was starting to think that she should have kept the previous day’s flat stone, as that made a good cooking plate. But she had deemed it too heavy and left it.
The aroma wafting to her nose indicated the bread was ready to flip, so she wiggled the spoon under it and flipped it over. She burnt her finger a little on the hot stone and stuck it in her mouth.
As she was about to test if the other side was cooked, rain started to pour down.
The fire was doused and the bread a little soggy before she could whip it to safety. She sat, getting wetter by the moment, and began to wonder if this whole quest thing was really that great after all.
****
The rest of her journey to the border of Mor was much the same.
By the time she reached the river – which had seemed to take much longer than she’d expected – and turned north, her food supplies were gone, she had missed breakfast and her stomach thought it was well-past lunch.
She trudged along the river bank, her feet slipping a little in her shoes as her socks had never quite dried out. She knew she just had to keep moving, there would be a bridge up ahead and that would take her to the little town she had memorised off the map. She prayed she had stayed true to her path, otherwise she did not know where she might end up.
Eventually, the bridge was in sight. The sun had almost set and she hoped the innkeeper would have a spare bed this late. She plodded along the bridge, feeling sore and stiff in every bone in her body. It felt as though the closer she got, the worse she felt, all because she knew she could rest soon.
Over the bridge was a sign that read ‘Welcome to Clade’. She frowned, sure that the town was supposed to be called Kailan. She hesitated. Maybe I read it wrong? she thought, though she did not feel convinced. The town looked nice enough, so she hitched up her pack and walked on, hoping she was at least in Veram.
The town was small, really just one main street with a few buildings along it. It was dark, obviously the inhabitants did not need or want much light outside. The windows of most of the buildings shone with light. There were a lot of trees surrounding the buildings, making it feel cramped and casting a lot of shadows among the meagre light.
She found the inn and pushed the door open. There was a wave of heat and a rabble of conversation. Faces as grimy as hers must be turned to look at her. Most of them looked her up and down, snarled and turned back to their mug or their companion. A few stared as she walked tentatively to the bar.
The man behind the bar was a short, portly man who looked to be i
n his mid-forties. His hair was brown and balding. He had a dirty apron around his middle and was wiping mugs with the corner of it. She stopped at the bar, wondering what she must look like to these people. Not like the crown princess of Mor, she supposed.
“Help you?” the man behind the bar said, spitting on the floor beside him.
“Um… Yes, please. I would like a meal and a bed for the night.”
“Would you indeed?”
She nodded and he sighed as though it were a great bother.
“We only have a few scraps of meat and veg left over from dinner.”
“Anything would be fine, thank you.”
“It’s two coppers for the meal and one silver for the room.”
She nodded and pulled a gold coin from her purse, careful not to let anyone see how much she had left in case they had a mind to rob her. She passed it to the innkeeper. There were mutterings and the innkeeper looked at her strangely.
“We don’t take kindly to thieves around here,” he said, but she noticed him pocket it and pass her eighteen coppers in change.
“I’m no thief.” She replied. “Just a traveller passing through.”
The innkeeper nodded. “Sit where you like. I’ll bring you a plate.”
She sat in a corner where she could keep an eye on the rest of the patrons. She had experience with drunk men – Lord Wilmont sprang to mind though she may not have handled him as well as she could have – but very little experience with town men, who she had heard were less courteous. She could not imagine that town men were actually any worse than courtiers, but it never hurt to be cautious. As she looked around she noticed there were more women than she had realised, and a few people smiled at her.
The women were dressed in clothes that would once have been bright colours, but were now dirt-stained and torn in places. It seemed everyone had gap-toothed grins, but no smile seemed to reach their eyes. Valerie thought it must be the hunger, tiredness and new surroundings affecting her judgment. There was probably nothing but kindness in these people. She smiled back and hoped that they would not mistake her weariness for something less friendly.
The innkeeper brought her a plate of steaming food. It looked a lot more like left over scraps to Valerie, but she said nothing. He also placed a mug next to the plate and gave her a lop-sided smile that looked out of place on his face.
“Ale on the house, miss.” He sort of bowed. “Let me know when you’re finished and I’ll show you to yer room.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.”
“Don’t mention it, miss.” He awkwardly bowed again and went back to cleaning mugs behind the bar.
As Valerie ate, she noticed that people kept looking at her, smiling when they saw her look at them before looking hurriedly down at their mugs.
They must be very shy people in Clade, she thought.
As she finished her meal, which sat warm and comforting in her belly, she started to yawn. When she sat back, the innkeeper was beside her.
“I’ll take you up to your room now, miss, if you’d like.”
“Thank you. That would be very nice.”
She followed him up a narrow, rather rickety set of stairs onto a small, dimly lit corridor with doors off to one side. The innkeeper waddled about halfway down the corridor and stopped, opening a door.
“This will be yours, miss. Stay as long as you would like. Only a silver a night if you wish to stay on a while.”
She smiled, grateful, and dug out a silver from her purse “Thank you. Take this for tomorrow night. I will think on it past that and let you know tomorrow.”
He smiled widely, “Thank you, miss. We’ll have breakfast ready for you when you wake in the morning.”
“You’re too kind.”
He did his awkward bow again and made to leave. She was about to shut the door when he called back.
“Don’t forget to lock the door behind you, miss. A young lady on your own such as you are.”
She did as he said, ignoring the potential ominous nature of his words as she bolted the door firmly and tested it before looking at the room behind her.
There was a narrow bed, the mattress of which looked to be made out of straw but more comfortable than rain-soaked ground no doubt. There was a small chest, presumably for belongings, and a washstand with a cracked mirror over it.
The light came from a small wall sconce above the bed with a rather used candle in it. Valerie made a mental note to ask for a new one in the morning.
She put her pack on the floor at the end of the bed and removed her scabbard, hanging it on the bedpost. She sat on the bed, testing the sturdiness of it, and it seemed quite good. She went over to the washstand and peered at herself in the grimy mirror. From what she could see, her hair stuck out at all angles, her face was covered in dirt, streaked with the rain, and her clothes were a mess, all torn and dirty.
She washed herself as best she could, pulling her damp hair into a plait again, and got changed. She resolved to wash her dirty clothes in the morning.
She clambered into the bed, blew out the light and snuggled under the covers. They were somewhat more scratchy than the ones she was used to, but she was thankful she did not have to sleep in the open another night. She frowned, feeling awfully snooty and girly.
How many people live like this every day, and you can’t manage it for less than a week? she asked herself.
She sighed as she rolled onto her side, promising herself that she would be less of a princess and more of a knight on this journey. She would stop comparing things to her Princess Room and start appreciating what she did have.
She fell asleep quickly, but was woken sometime deep in the night by a noise. She looked around.
The moon was shining through the window, casting some light around. She searched for the noise that had woken her. For a few moments, there was silence. Then she heard the sound of a door knob being rattled. She padded quietly over to the door and sure enough the door handle rattled again. She heard mutterings from the other side before the soft footfalls of someone leaving.
Just the innkeeper checking my door was secure, I’m sure, she told herself. Though again, she did not sound very convincing.
She crawled back into the bed and lay down. She lay there for a few moments, sure she would not sleep for worry now. But within ten minutes, she was fast asleep again and did not wake until the sun was streaming strongly through the window the next day.
Chapter Nine
Valerie passed the next day in relative ease.
She had a warm breakfast of eggs, ham and toast with a glass of milk. She washed her dirty clothes, setting them out about her room to dry. She procured another candle for that night, and found the key with which she could lock her room door when she left.
She spent time talking with the locals, who all seemed wonderful and friendly in the openness of the day. A few people she spoke to had tales about the wizard, which she filed away dutifully. Most stories came back to the wizard living in the mountains in the south, so at least she had a starting direction.
She found a baker who sold her a delicious hot currant bun for lunch.
She spent the afternoon cleaning her sword and armour, and repacking it.
That night, she went downstairs to have her dinner. The men down there already seemed drunk and they seemed a lot more sinister in the half-dark than they had during the day. Valerie told herself she was being stupid, that it was just the poorly lit room casting shadows and those shadows causing her to fear the unknown.
She straightened her shoulders and took a seat. The innkeeper brought her a plate of food and mug of ale, for which she gave him two coppers. He gave her his lip-sided smile and went back to cleaning mugs with his grimy apron again.
She ate her food, planning her next move. She had received a lot more information in one day than she had thought, so she debated the use of staying in Clade another night. She came to the decision she would mov
e on in the morning.
When the innkeeper came to refill her mug, she told him of her decision.
“Are you sure, miss?” His face seemed to darken and Valerie felt like danger was brewing.
“Yes, thank you,” she said standing up. He edged towards her and she noticed a couple of the men standing from their seats behind him.
“A young lady like yourself should not be travelling alone, miss. Are you sure yer not better staying here a few more days? One of our lads could see you safely to where it is yer heading.”
The men behind him edged forward.
“Thank you. No. I will be fine.” Valerie looked around, trying to appear calm. She wished now she had not sat herself in the corner; as the men advanced, she was becoming boxed in.
She brushed her side, as surreptitiously as she could, her sword was there so she could protect herself if need be. She had never fought against this many grown men before, but she hoped her training would win out against their numbers.
The men pulled knives from their belts and the innkeeper backed up to let them get ahead of him.
“Well, if you’ll be going, we’ll be taking yer purse then, miss.” He smiled, but it was the most unpleasant smile Valerie had ever seen.
She went to pull her sword from the scabbard as the men swung at her. In her panic and the confined space, her sword caught and she thought she was done for. But before the blade struck her, another blocked it. She looked around and saw a very familiar face.
“Jonathan!” she cried, tears welling with the sudden relief flooding her.
“Not now, Val. Fight!”
Valerie was stirred into action. Her sword danced as she parried and thrust. She tried not to swing killing blows, but she had to focus more on protecting herself than her attackers. She felt blades knick her a few times. Her left arm, right rib, right thigh throbbed, but she tried to ignore them. Jonathan was beside her the whole time, ducking and weaving. Valerie was holding her own well enough, but Jonathan was showing far more prowess with his blade than she had ever seen or even dreamed he were capable of.
Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1) Page 8
