Valiant Valerie (Ballad of Valerie of Mor #1)

by Elizabeth Stevens

  Two attackers went down and did not get up. Jonathan slashed at a third, who turned tail and ran, wounded. The other two stood for a moment, unsure what to do. The innkeeper was nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is your pack?” Jonathan panted.

  “Upstairs in my room.”

  “Go and get it,” he barked the order.

  She went and Jonathan followed her, facing the remaining two assailants the whole way up the stairs. Valerie ran into the room, checked she had packed everything away and pulled her pack on. Jonathan backed into the room, fighting off an attacker who had apparently regained some bravado.

  “What’s out the window?” he grunted, pushing the man back.

  Valerie peered out. “Nothing. Just the courtyard.”

  “Jump!” he yelled.

  “What?”

  “Jump! I’m right behind you.”

  Valerie pulled open the window, said a silent prayer and leaped out. She tried to roll as she hit the ground, but her pack prevented her rolling properly and the wind was knocked out of her. Jonathan landed nimbly on his feet beside her and made sure no one jumped them. He leant on his knees, breathing heavily then held a hand out to help her up. She took it.

  “What now?” she gasped.

  “My horse.” Jonathan pointed and hobbled in that direction. Valerie picked her sword up from where it had fallen when she jumped and sheathed it.

  “There they are!” a shout came from behind them.

  “Run!” Jonathan yelled as he took off and she followed, without question this time.

  By the time Valerie got to him, he was already on his horse and moving towards her. He stuck his hand out and she grabbed it, swinging up behind him as the horse gathered speed and rushed passed the armed men streaming from the inn. Valerie, her arms secured tightly around his waist, buried her head in Jonathan’s back and breathed shakily, trying to stave off tears.

  ****

  They rode for hours. Many times, Valerie almost fell asleep. Her head would drop and she would be jolted awake only to have Jonathan reassure her with a squeeze on her arm. He said nothing, only directed the horse.

  Valerie had no idea where they were going or even in what direction. She could only feel she had behaved stupidly. She wondered if going on a quest was such a good idea after all. Maybe she should just accept the Council’s ruling and be the princess they wanted.

  It was then she remembered the husband that waited for her – for surely she would not find anyone other Lord Wilmont in such a short timeframe, especially after this stunt. She sighed and hugged Jonathan tighter. He squeezed her arm again, but left his hand holding it this time as though he knew she needed the comfort.

  Eventually, they stopped and Jonathan set up a simple cover and got a fire burning brightly. He bade her sit in front of it, put a rug around her and busied himself making tea. He said nothing until they both had steaming cups in their hands and were sitting down, his arm put protectively around her shoulders.

  “Do you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Jonathan asked harshly and completely out of character, and Valerie knew she was in trouble.

  “I had to prove myself to the Council, Jon. They want me to marry Wilmont!” She felt Jonathan stiffen and he held her tighter, but he said nothing so she continued, “I thought if I could find the wizard and pass a quest, then they would see I am just as good as any boy. I could be in the Senior Corps, I could still be a knight, and I wouldn’t have to marry anyone I didn’t want to.” Saying it all now sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

  Jonathan sighed and she waited for him to tell her he was taking her home.

  “Your father mentioned that.” He leant his head against hers. “How much does this mean to you, Val?”

  She had not at all expected this from him. “What do you mean? When did you talk to Da?”

  He turned to face her. “Just after he read your note, he contacted me.” He put a hand up to stop the question he knew she had been about to ask. “I said I would find you and bring you home.” He held his hand up again against the outburst she was clearly about to make. “However, he said to gauge for myself whether you needed to do this.”

  He looked at her expectantly and she found that now he wanted her to say something, she did not know what to say.

  “What does ‘gauge for yourself’ mean?”

  “I will make you a promise, Valerie, in exchange for one from you.” He had his serious face on – which was barely determinable from his usual face actually, but Valerie knew she had to tread carefully now. “How important is this quest to you?”

  Valerie looked him in the eyes, but found she could not hold his gaze so she looked down at her cup. “I thought it was very important. I thought I could prove my worth to myself, and to father and the Council. Even to you.” She looked at him for a moment, but his expression was unreadable. “Anything to be my own person, to not marry Wilmont, to be respected.”

  She knew now she’d been rash. She was well-trained in the sort of combat she was likely to meet on a battlefield between two armies who were following a certain code. Too late, she had realised that the real world did not follow the same code as the king’s knights. Too late, she had realised that she did not know enough to survive alone. As a group maybe, but not completely alone.

  She had been surprised by the men in the inn. However, Jonathan had not been. She thought back to his incredible fighting skills and wanted to ask him where he had learnt them, but felt now was not the time.

  “But I think I was rash. I may have had training, but what do I really know about the real world? How am I really going to survive out here,” she indicated, “on my own. I couldn’t even protect myself against a bunch of drunken men in an inn. What else could I meet out here?”

  He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Val, I said I would make you a promise and I will. But you have to make me a promise in return.”

  “Anything, Jon. You know that.”

  He took a deep breath and Valerie had the distinct impression he was already regretting his next words. “I will accompany you on your quest. We will find the wizard, he will give you a quest, and I will do what I can to help you pass it.” He held up a finger. “But you must promise me that when it is complete, no matter if it is passed or failed, you will let me take you home again, and you will never leave again without telling someone first.”

  Valerie was stunned, she could not believe what he was saying. Stern, big brother Jonathan was saying he would help her risk her life? It was more believable accompanied by the look on his face. Still, she almost thought it too good to be true. Any promise was worth his assistance and blessing.

  “I promise, Jon. Straight home afterwards and no running away again.” She smiled and he smiled, albeit hesitantly, in return.

  “What have I done?” he said, more to himself than her, and put his arm around her again. “Okay. Finish that and get some sleep. We should get moving first thing.”

  She downed the rest of the cup, handed it to him and crawled over to the makeshift bed he had set up. She lay down and felt herself drifting off. Suddenly, she remembered something.

  “Jonathan?”

  “Valerie?”

  “Thank you.”

  She heard the smile in his voice. “Anytime, you know that.”

  ****

  Valerie awoke the next morning, renewed and excited. Jonathan was already up – or had not been to sleep, Valerie was not sure which – and moving about making breakfast. He had eggs and mushrooms and bread cooking. Valerie thought it best not to tell him about her foray into provisioning.

  “Morning,” he looked over and smiled.

  Valerie yawned. “Did you sleep at all?”

  “A bit,” he winced as he moved and she remembered the events of last night.

  She checked her wounds, none of them were very deep, but they had bled a bit onto her clothes. Her face and body fel
t bruised, and she was stiff. She was not sure whether she felt pleased or not about coming out of her first real fight with these wounds. Were they a badge of honour, or a badge of stupidity? She decided not to ask Jonathan’s opinion as she was fairly sure she knew which he would pick.

  “Should we not have done something about these last night?” she asked, pointing to herself. “I don’t want to get them infected.”

  Jonathan smiled. “I’ll wash them out after you’ve eaten if you like, but I suspect you’ll be okay.” He looked like he was not moving with his usual elegant fluidity.

  “What about you? Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine. Been in worse shape before.”

  Valerie started. “What have you been doing to get into worse shape? More to the point, where does a minstrel learn combat skills and how does he get so proficient?” Valerie put her hands on her hips and stared him down.

  Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish, but only for a moment as his usual masked expression fell back into place. “Hugh and I have needed to take care of ourselves on the road. Not everywhere we’ve played has given us a welcome reception. And with Hugh not getting any younger, I feel it’s my duty to look after him.”

  Something else had occurred to Valerie. “Uh-huh. And why are you the one to come after me?”

  “Because after your father, I’m the person who knows you best. He thought I would be the most objective person to evaluate the importance of your mission and a decent enough fighter to accompany you if need be.”

  Valerie thought about it. It made sense, she supposed. Jonathan did know her the best. He would know what she really meant when she said something. And he would care enough, and not think of her only as the crown princess enough, to send her home if he thought that was for the best. Even so, Sir Gillam would surely have been just as suitable a candidate.

  “Besides, I was in the area.” Jonathan added, eerily as though he knew she doubted him.

  Valerie shrugged. Whatever the reasons, he was here with her now and that was fine by her. She could not really imagine questing with Gillam, she would feel too judged and watched. At least if Jonathan was judging her, she probably deserved it – Gillam would probably just be overly teacher-like and she would fail at every opportunity because she was trying too hard to impress him.

  Jonathan held a plate out for her and she sat down to eat, her stomach rumbling appreciatively.

  “Where is Hugh?”

  “He’s gone on with his tour. He said I could meet up with him later if I wanted. He never seems to mind if I go my own way for a while. Probably assumes it does me good to practice alone.” Jonathan gave her a short smile.

  Valerie looked around and saw that his lute was leaning against a pole of their shelter.

  “Will you play while we travel?” she asked, shovelling food into her mouth. Sometimes she wondered if she liked food a little too much.

  “Well, I don’t know how much money you thought to bring, but I expect we’ll need more as we go. Any idea how long your quest is likely to take?”

  Valerie had not thought about it. In the stories, quests took maybe a couple of weeks or months…but she had taken over a week just to get between one place and another. They would go faster with Jonathan’s horse, but if the gelding had to carry both of them, it would not make for a great pace.

  “I don’t know. How long do these things usually last?”

  Jonathan sighed with obvious exasperation. “Did you put no thought into this at all?”

  “Of course I didn’t!” Valerie realised too late that she actually had not put much thought into it beyond her desire to prove to the stupid Privy Council that she was worthy of being a knight. “Not so worthy now,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m hardly worthy of becoming a full-fledged knight if I go racing off into the night with a half-baked plan to prove my worth. Am I?”

  Jonathan looked for a moment as if he was going to agree with her, but he shrugged. “Maybe. But you had the starting point, and you’ve followed it through. We’ll work the rest out together and you’ll prove your worth and not have to marry that foul Wilmont.”

  She smiled at him as he began taking their camp apart. He had always been there for her and she was starting to wonder if she had actually been there for him when he needed her.

  When has he needed anyone, though? she asked herself.

  She finished her meal and rinsed her plate and the cooking plate.

  “Have you eaten?” she asked, concerned.

  “Yes. I ate before you were up and already cleaned up,” he said, his voice muffled as he reached around a tree to untie the stay of the shelter.

  “Can I help?”

  She heard him make a grunt she took to mean ‘no’ and decided to pack up their cooking stuff. She went over to the horse and went to pack the items in his saddlebags. He was suddenly at her shoulder.

  “Thanks, Val. I’ve got it.” He took them from her and bustled her away.

  “Okay.”

  She sat on a log and waited for him to finish, or tell her what she could do.

  Eventually, their campsite was cleaned up and he had put the fire out.

  “Where to?” he asked her, sitting next to her on the log.

  “The people of Clade told me stories about the wizard. They said he lived in the mountains to the south.”

  “Mountains to the south? Not very specific, but we can work with that.” Jonathan pulled open a map – Valerie said a silent prayer, thankful someone had thought of that – and studied it. He pointed to a spot in Agrea, north-east of Mor – not at all where Valerie was supposed to be. “We’re about here. If we continue south-west, we’ll come back to the river. Maybe we can get passage south on one of the river boats?” He looked at her as though awaiting her instructions, when she said nothing he sighed. “This is your quest, Val. You have to decide what we do.”

  Valerie had no idea what they should do, his idea sounded as good as any. “A river boat south. I agree. It will save us some time. What about Perry?” She looked to the horse.

  “Lots of boats have room for a horse. We can just make sure we find one.” He stood up and folded the map. “How much money did you bring?”

  Valerie checked her purse. “I’ve got equal of about 24 gold left, I think.”

  Jonathan looked ready to collapse. “God, you idiot. Why would you bring that much with you?”

  “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

  “It’s more than many men see in a lifetime.”

  “Really?”

  “Life is different out here. Men who go to the inn often barter for their drink. They eat off their own land. And that’s the lucky ones. The war left enormous gaps between the wealthy and the poor. Do not underestimate what money means to people, Valerie.”

  “No wonder those men in Clade wanted it.”

  “How did they even know you had that much?”

  “I don’t know. I paid with a gold–”

  “Lord, Val. That would be why. Even if you only had one more gold, they would have wanted it!”

  “But it’s only twenty-five coppers.”

  “A person who has one gold very often has more. The people out here have possibly never seen a single gold, Val. Even if something cost them five silvers, they would never pay with a gold. Golds aren’t seen in the country unless someone worth robbing comes by.”

  Valerie hung her head, feeling foolish and out of her depth once more. Jonathan put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Don’t worry. I’m here now and I’ll keep you out of trouble. Did you at least bring smaller coins?”

  “Some, but most are golds.”

  Jonathan whistled. “Well, we’re just going to have to make the most of it then.” He pulled himself onto Perry’s back, then reached down to swing Valerie up behind him.

  “How are we going to do that?” she asked when she was sitting comfo
rtably between the saddle bags.

  “We’re going to go shopping.” Jonathan said, sounding the happiest he had since she’d seen him again.

  Valerie stared at his back in surprise; she knew Jonathan had an eye for fashion, but to hear him so excited by a shopping trip was another thing altogether.

  Chapter Ten

  Jonathan led Perry into the town, limping, with Valerie slumping beside him. They looked in a sorry state. Or at least, they had better.

  Jonathan had spent the better part of the last hour making them even more dirty than they already were. He had torn their clothes, rubbed mud on them and even aggravated their wounds to elicit more bleeding.

  They had barely passed the welcome sign when someone came running from a house, waving at them. Another person followed behind him at a slower pace.

  “Ho, there! Are you all right?” It was a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties.

  Jonathan stopped and affected an air of exhaustion. “We were ambushed on the road. My sister and I are traders, but we lost nearly everything, our cart and other horse, our goods and valuables and all our clothes.”

  A woman came shuffling up behind the man and Valerie could see she was heavily pregnant.

  “What’s the matter, Lawrence?”

  “Emme, these poor people have been attacked. Quickly, put the kettle on and I’ll help them inside,” he replied, ushering Jonathan and Valerie to follow him. Emme waddled back to their house.

  Valerie looked to Jonathan and he nodded for her to follow. He led Perry over, tied the reins to a pole outside the house, and went inside. Valerie followed.

  Inside was one room made up of a kitchen area with table and chairs, and a lounge area with a sofa and chairs. There was a staircase on one wall. It was small, but homely. Pillows, flowers and doilies were scattered here and there, and one picture hung on the wall.