by LeRoy Clary
I mounted my horse and rode to Tater’s side, the opposite one of where he’d been spitting. “You’re hired.”
“Can always use the work.”
No thanks. No promises. No guarantees of the good work he’d do. Tater just kept his eyes on the carriage as we pulled into the open and he pointed to the only lane that wound down the back side of the slope and into the forested valley below. Without him, we’d have navigated our way down the only road on the hillside.
He rode on ahead of the carriage. Alexis wanted to have her head and use up some excess energy, but we waited until the carriage reached me. I pointed to our new guide as an introduction. “Tater.”
Elizabeth smiled and spared me a small nod. “They say he’s very good. A wise choice.”
Kendra wrinkled her nose, which was the face sisters often make at their brothers when they disapprove of something they’ve done. It was clear she’d heard of Tater, too. I remained silent as we continued following the road. The forest grew to the edge of the road, thick with maple, oak, and ash. The underbrush was thick, the sun warm, the day pleasant. I used the quiet time to reflect and plan. Princess Elizabeth hadn’t yet provided a reason for the trip. That, in itself, brought up more questions. My indirect probing skills could get a few answers.
“How late were you thinking we should travel tonight?” I asked.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Ask our guide. Please inform him we are not in a breakneck hurry. Conversely, we’re not afraid of passing others on the road.”
Kendra kept a straight face. I detected a hint of humor as her eyes slid past mine, refusing to stop until she looked off into the distance. I wheeled Alexis and gave her my heels. The horse leaped ahead so fast she must have been waiting for that signal. Tater was riding well in front of us. His large horse moved easily, at a ground-eating pace. He watched the road at the same time.
Later, as we passed by an open meadow, he leaned down for a closer look. He dismounted, knelt, and touched the edge of a hoofprint with his finger.
“Something wrong?”
He slowly stood and mounted. “Not if you don’t mind two people from the palace cutting across that hill and meadow and racing to get ahead of you.”
Drawing on my extensive vocabulary that was sure to impress, I said, “Huh?”
“They left after us, cut through the forest up there and rode across the top of that hill. A carriage would have a hard time on that slope, but a pair of horses can make it with no problem.” He adjusted himself in his saddle and allowed me the time to ponder what he’d said and what it meant.
“Why would they do that?”
“It cuts off some time and lets them get ahead of us and into the forest without being seen. It isn’t that much difference in distance, but they let their horses run. They probably left right after us. You got any enemies?”
We let our mounts set our pace. I asked, knowing he had no way of knowing, “Intentional, you say?”
He spat and missed me. I’d seen him chew the inside of his cheek and remembered what the stable master had said about always knowing which way the wind was blowing—and that Tater didn’t care. My mind was quicker than him. As he spat, I concentrated the nearby air and used my magic to puff it aside. The wad blew back and landed on Tater’s thigh. He casually wiped it off with a flick of his hand.
“You’re sure about someone intentionally taking a shortcut to get ahead of us?” I asked, again.
He spat again, this time narrowly missing me because I wasn’t prepared. He said, “Rode up and down this same road all afternoon exercising the king’s horses. Nobody else was there. Not before, and not when we left.”
“Who were they?” I asked, knowing he couldn’t possibly know the answer, but want to establish that I was in charge by asking credible and insightful questions. From the look he gave me, he didn’t buy my attempt.
“Those hoofprints show a pair of horses running hard. Before you ask, yes, the two horses were from the King’s stable. That’s because the shoes have crowns stamped on them. If you want to stop and take a look for yourself, feel free.”
I didn’t. However, I remembered Avery earlier in the day riding past me. Counting us, that made six of us heading in the same direction, seven counting Tater. “Are they still running?”
“Nope. Slowed to a trot when they got far enough ahead that we couldn’t see them cause of the trees, but still moving faster than us.” He rode on in silence, his eyes on the dirt. After a while, near the crest of a hill, he said, “That’s where they paused and turned their horses around, watching for you to come over the rise.”
“And then they took off when sure they were ahead and out of sight,” I finished for him.
He nodded but didn’t bother answering. We rode on, the carriage rumbling and squeaking. The sound of the conversation between my sister and Elizabeth drifted to us, and occasionally they laughed or giggled, knowing nothing of what we’d discovered.
Later, Tater drew up beside me and said, “Why do you think someone would leave after you and rush on ahead?”
“Can’t say,” meaning I didn’t know.
He took my words differently. “Who can?”
“Can?”
He glared at me. “Who can say? That princess of yours?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
“Money?” He spat again. “It’s always about money, power, or sex with royals. Commoners like us never get much of any of those three.”
My inclination was to mention his lack of bathing, excess spitting, and general demeanor might prevent him from getting any sex, if not the other two. However, I kept those thoughts to myself because he had a point. Three of them, actually. It was always about those things when you got to the bottom of problems. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, wondering if I’d misjudged him—and decided. I was beginning to like the man.
He jutted his chin ahead. “There’s an inn up there. We’ll reach it about dark.”
“Were you thinking of staying there tonight?”
He chuckled an evil sound. “Me? I might down a mug or two at an inn, but out here it’s best to sleep under the stars. Safer that way.”
“Safer? Common sense would have thought the opposite.”
A heavy sigh and a wad of phlegm greeted my comment. “Question for you. Say you were a robber. Where would you look to find the right sort of people, the ones with coins to rub against each other? Camped by some lonely stream or spending good money on a bed and food at an inn?”
He had a good point. The downside was that there was another aspect he hadn’t mentioned. “Those spending the night by the stream have no protection. At an inn, there are others to help you.”
“Right you are. That’s why we need a dog.”
Another abrupt change of subject and suddenly I had lost grasp of the entire conversation. “A dog?”
“Yup, a mean, noisy one that will warn us of sneakers around our camp.”
“Sneakers?” Even I was tired of my stupid, incipient questions, most of which simply repeated the same words Tater used.
“People sneaking around trying to get close enough to hurt or steal from us.”
I considered the convoluted conversation, and it actually made sense. That alone should have worried me. I’d asked about where we were sleeping and ended up admitting we needed a dog. One logical step led to the next. Tater was beginning to impress me.
He said, “Besides, you and I got some business to take care of tonight, so we got to stop up here at a farm. The man’s got three strapping sons, and you have the coin to pay for our needs.”
“Some in my purse,” I reluctantly admitted, wondering how much information to share with a man who went by the name of Tater. I considered what magic could be used to help me discern his objectives, but there are times when directness is the best choice.
“Go back and tell them to keep on going on this road and we’ll catch up in a bit.” With that, Tater turned down a lane that
wound around a pond and to the front of a farmhouse that looked like it had been a cabin that had grown in all directions at different times. The front part of the roof differed from the rear, and on the left side, a third roof with a different pitch had recently been added.
A barn stood near three storage sheds. The barn looked in better shape than the house. I relayed the message to the girls and confessed to having no knowledge of what Tater was up to. Elizabeth just grinned and told me to catch up with him if I wanted to know. Kendra giggled as I turned Alexis and kicked her in the ribs.
We arrived at the same time, where a farmer emerged and called over his shoulder, “Marge? Get yer butt out here. We got some company.”
A thin worrisome woman stepped onto the porch, wringing her hands. Her nervousness was contagious, at least for me. When I glanced to one side, two very large young men stood five or six paces from me. I had no idea of where they had come from, but other than a shovel in the hands of one, they were not carrying weapons and didn’t appear upset.
Tater didn’t dismount. He said without preamble, “We got two women traveling with us. We’ll set up camp at Cushing Creek, and want to hire a pair of your boys to look out for us. Not that we’re expecting trouble, but one of them is Princess Elizabeth.”
“The price just went up,” the farmer said.
“Understood,” Tater replied evenly. “Your boys should be paid more than if it was just two regular women. We also want a dog.”
“Buy or rent?”
“Depends. If it does a good job, I’ll buy.”
The conversation was stilted and awkward, as if the two men didn’t like each other, but were not enemies. The feeling I had was that could change at any moment. The woman had developed a tic. Her right eye flickered. She didn’t touch it.
“What do you want the dog for? Meaning what kind do you want? Guard or attack?”
“Well, we want one that bites people wishing to do us harm, and that would be welcome, but a barker will do,” Tater said all that as if his words made sense.
The farmer turned to the boys. “Get mounted and go catch up with those two women. Tell Rafi to bring Springer out here.”
Tater said, “The cost?”
“Five?”
“Three,” Tater said. “Four, if I decide to buy.”
“My boys be back tomorrow to do their chores by mid-morning?”
“They will,” Tater said. “We’ll pay extra if we need them longer.”
A third boy, one much younger, walked from the barn leading a one-eared mutt at his heels. The dog was small, dark-brown with a little black saddle. It was barking in a high-pitched manner as it danced back and forth with excitement. The missing ear had recently healed. The wound on its back leg hadn’t.
The farmer said, “As you can see, Springer isn’t scared of a good fight. He raises hell at anything he doesn’t like. That about what you want?”
Tater noticed me pulling my purse free and held out his hand to stall me. He selected three of my copper coins and handed them to the farmer as he said, “We’ll keep the dog for a while. we’ll stop by on our return and let you know our decision.”
The boy called Rafi handed Tater a fistful of smoked meat scraps. “Just let him get the scent of them, and he’ll follow you anywhere.”
Tater accepted the dog treats and leaned closer. He tossed one to the dog. Springer caught it in the air and looked for more. “Come on Springer, you can have another in a while.”
We rode back down the lane and onto the road, and Tater rewarded the dog with another scrap tossed its way. I watched the two boys who were really husky young men. I’d expected them to walk, but instead, they had pushed aside the luggage and sat on the rear of the carriage swinging their legs and grinning as they rode. They wouldn’t be up there if Elizabeth hadn’t invited them. I said to Tater, as we took up our positions ahead of the carriage, “Sort of an odd conversation back there.”
Tater shrugged. After riding for a while, he relented and said, “Families are sometimes like that.”
“Family?” I’d had no idea.
“Brother. We don’t see one another much.”
“He lives close. Why not?” For me, with only a sister as my list of relatives, I cherished the idea of family.
“We don’t like each other. Never have.”
I decided to leave it at that. Immediately coming to mind in importance, right after my rule about never grousing at maids and cooks, comes my rule about never taking sides in family arguments.
Tater tossed another bit of meat and Springer snatched it from the air again as he trotted behind the big horse. I said, “You told me we have business tonight. What did that mean?”
“You and me. It’s why we paid for my nephews to watch over your women. Not just anybody rides the king’s horses. Royalty does. People who are used to sleeping inside.”
“And you think the pair who rode ahead might stay at the inn tonight.”
“Count on it. That’s the only inn they can reach today. And we’re going to find out who.”
We rode along in a sort of quiet companionship mode, me thinking and him spitting and feeding treats to the dog now and then. My thoughts centered on the education Elizabeth had insisted we have, and the long days of studying with the best teachers in the palace. It had covered all the classic subjects, and a few Elizabeth had insisted upon that royals didn’t normally study. I was the smartest person I knew. Yet, in the end, Tater, an uneducated sorry excuse for a man, was teaching me.
My pride was wounded. More than that, I refused to admit to myself that a man called Tater could teach me so many things in such a short time, or that he had insights that escaped me. I shook my head to clear it and decided to try harder.
The road cut a narrow swath through a thick hardwood forest broken by a few farms and pastures. People waved as they paused in their work, a dog raced out to challenge Springer and ran home with its tail between its legs after Springer savagely attacked it. It had protected Tater and me. That’s what we wanted, and he’d barked enough to convince me he was worth the four copper coins, despite his lopsided looks. The one ear stuck straight up, the other didn’t exist.
Late in the day, a few buildings stood clumped together ahead in the distance. “What’s that up there?”
“Place called Cushing Corners, but there’s no corner, and I don’t know of anyone called Cushing to name it after. Just a few farms and houses. The Red Ox Inn would be on our right when we passed it if we stayed on this road.”
“Of course,” I smirked, “we’re not going to do that?”
He smiled, too. “Why would we let whoever is waiting up there see us and be warned? Hell, they might resent us riding up on them. We just need to see who it is before barging in on them and having a few choice words.”
He veered off and quickly followed a game-trail heading in the right direction. Springer now took the lead, and we followed, one behind the other. I brought up the rear and called softly to the carriage, “The village up ahead is Cushing Corners.”
Tater added, “We’re upstream of them. The creek and campground we want should be right ahead.”
We located it, and the carriage pulled off the road into a clearing that spread beside the creek. As we set up camp, the two boys introduced themselves. The carriage horses were unhitched and chomping on the lush grass beside a bubbling stream. It was the sort of place where I’d always wanted to build myself a small cabin and enjoy it with a tall, honey-colored haired girl.
I rode Alexis in a full circle around the campsite making an inspection, then climbed down. The two boys were gathering firewood while Elizabeth and Kendra spread blankets below the carriage where they would sleep, using it as a tent. Springer leaped, licked, and generally made a pest of himself as he reacquainted himself with the boys.
Kendra pulled away and acted as if to touch the mutt was similar to touching bloated, ten-day-old rotted carcasses. To my surprise, Elizabeth knelt and welcomed the ugly dog
. She was careful not to touch the open wound on the hind leg, but otherwise, she seemed to like the poor thing. I’d never seen her treat another dog in the same manner. She pointed to a piece of baggage and told Kendra to get her medical kit from it. Then my princess sat in the dirt and applied salve to the wound.
When announced that Tater and I were going into the village, nobody reacted more than to say good-bye. I didn’t wish to warn or upset them about what we were attempting to do, and until we knew who rode a pair of royal horses in the attempt to travel past us unaware, I decided to keep my mouth shut.
CHAPTER EIGHT
T ater and I left the campsite after caring for our horses and staking them in a place with plenty to eat. We intended to walk to the inn and return before dark. Walking wouldn’t attract the attention riding in on horses would. Tater’s pack horse wore a special saddle made for carrying bulky loads. He didn’t bother unpacking it before gesturing with his thumb to ask if I was ready.
We left on foot, following the stream, or at minimum keeping it on our right where there were marshy places to walk. The high bank provided cover. We smelled smoke before seeing buildings, and then my stomach growled as my nose recognized meat cooking.
We didn’t speak as we moved closer. Pastures and small farms surrounded the inn and community, the farmers probably deriving a decent income from selling meat and vegetables to the inn. However, Tater angled off to one side to prevent us from being seen, and I realized that instead of entering the inn from the front, he intended to look in the pole-barn, first. He kept the barn between us and the road.
Still, we felt exposed. Any farmer looking our way couldn’t help but see us slinking around. A dog might run our way at any time. We silently moved from pasture to pasture, and then to one side of the pole barn, where we slipped around the corner and inside. Six horses were in the stalls.
