Keepers of the Western Forest

by Chris Kennedy

  Chapter 6

   

  Darin left Dart contentedly cropping the new grass that grew at the edge of the clearing. He hid his satchel, shield and spear under some ragged thorn bushes. Still wearing his sword, he set out on foot to explore the forest round about.

  It was good to be walking and swinging his arms again after a long day in the saddle and a night spent on the hard ground. Tomorrow, he would go to the tournament. What he had seen the day before at the pool may have changed his life, but he was still sworn to find a champion for his mother. Perhaps in the character of the Knight with the Closed Visor, the title Broderic had given him, he would be able to make his request at Camelot.  In the meantime, he must find water for himself and his horse. By steadfastly refusing to think any further ahead than that, he might be able to forget his troubles for a while.

  After a brief search, he came upon a little stream. The water was brackish, but it would do, so he went back to fetch Dart. He decided to keep what little remained of his provisions for his evening meal. After he had ridden Dart back to the clearing, they set off down the path Broderic had taken. Before long, he decided to walk, leading his horse by the bridle. From what Broderic had said, Camelot could not be very far away, so he was in no hurry. He would stay in the forest until May Day morning.

  The sun had passed its highest point when the woods ahead started thinning out. It did not look to him like the end of the forest yet, but evidently he was approaching a quite considerable clearing. Suddenly he heard shouting and the desperate squeal of a frightened pig. He slammed his visor down and jumped up onto Dart’s back.

  As he rode into the big open space, he saw a cottage with some tilled land around it, some stalls and a few chickens scratching about. A shaggy-haired man in a brown tunic with the hood down was dragging a pig out of one of the stalls. Another fellow, similarly dressed and holding a stout cudgel, was threatening the old man who stood in the cottage doorway.

  “Stop your yammering, old man!” Darin heard him shout. “If you don’t want a taste of my club, you’ll go back inside and keep quiet!”

  Darin cried out and drew his sword. As Dart galloped forward, the first man let go of the pig and fled into the trees by the side of the cottage. The other man turned and raised his cudgel as Darin bore down on him. Darin slashed at him, smashing the cudgel from his hand and wounding him in the shoulder. The man let out a yell and ran after his companion. By the time Darin could turn his charging horse to follow them, the would-be robbers had disappeared. He reined in and looked down at the old man. “Are you all right?”

  “Thank you, sir. You came at just the right moment!”  The man did not look up as he spoke, but seemed rather to be addressing Dart. “Those villains would never have tried their tricks if my son were here. No, robbing blind old men is more to their liking.”

  Darin looked at him closely. The man’s eyes stared fixedly ahead. “Are you all alone here, then?”

  “My son and his wife went to Camelot this morning,” said the old man. “They will lodge there tonight with her sister. The town is filling up with folk come for the tournament and the two sisters expect to do well selling their needlework. And there is plenty of well paid work for the men, setting up the tourney ground for the big day tomorrow.”

  “I intend to go and try my luck in the jousting myself,” Darin said.

  “And do you have lodgings there?”

  Darin shook his head. Then he remembered that the old man could not see him. “No. I thought I’d sleep in the forest again.”

  “Then you shall stay here! You can have my son’s bed and there’s supper enough for two. I warrant those ruffians won’t be back as long as you are here, so we’ll be helping each other out.”

  Darin thanked him and dismounted. His host told him to put Dart in one of the stalls. “There’s plenty of hay and water for him in there.”

  It took them some time and not a little energy to round up the terrified pig, but eventually they had it safely penned again. They went inside the cottage and Darin sat down at the table, as the old man asked him to. He put his helmet, which he had taken off in the heat of the chase, on the dirt floor beside him. How good to be free of it for a while and to have some company! He watched the blind man as he bustled around the room. A circle of stones served as a fireplace, a low cot stood by the wall and a rough wooden door led into a second chamber.

  “I sleep in here,” said the old man. “Tomorrow, after you’ve gone, I shall bring the pig in here with me and bolt the door till my son gets home in the evening, just in case those villains come sniffing around again. You can have the other room, there’s a fine big bed in there.”

  He put a loaf of crusty bread and a side of bacon down in front of his guest. There were some apples already on the table and a jug of cider. After they had eaten their fill, the old man told stories of tournaments he had watched in the old days before he lost his sight. He had seen all the greatest knights compete in the lists, Lancelot and the rest.

  “I hope you do well tomorrow, young sir,” he finished. “Many a noble knight made his name at the May Day tournament. Go now and rest, to be ready for the jousting. It will take you no time at all to get there in the morning.”

  Darin thanked the old man for his hospitality and went into the other room. Although he was alone in the cottage with a blind man, he still felt uneasy about going to sleep with his face uncovered. What if the son and his wife were to come back unexpectedly and find a monster lying in their bed? He dragged a heavy chest from the corner of the room, shoved it against the door and put his sword and helmet within easy reach. That done, he pulled off his boots and hauberk and stretched himself out in his shirt.

  He could still feel the bruises from his encounter with Broderic, but the bed was deliciously soft after his night on the cold ground. He sighed. Life would be easier if everyone were blind, like this old man—but that was an unworthy thought.

  Very soon, he was asleep.