HONOR BOUND (The Spare Heir)

by Southwick, Michael G.

  Looking up he saw Daisy grinning at him. “Biorne said you might be get’n tired of drinking water with all yer meals so he had some milk brought in. By the look on yer face I take it you don’t mind.”

  “Mind?” Jorem ask. “This is great. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “Don’t you worry none about that,” she said. “Ol’ Biorne’s more than happy to have you here. Not only is he getting paid fer havin you here, he’ll get his taxes reduced fer housing a royal. Don’t you worry none ‘bout him, he’ll do just fine as long as he keeps you happy. And the rest of us won’t mind benefitin’ from the extra little comforts that comes from having you about.”

  The last she said with a smile and a wink. Jorem took it in good humor and smiled back. If those who worked here got some extra benefits just because he was here then he shouldn’t have to worry about them holding a grudge against him. He was determined not to be a burden, or at least to be as small a burden as possible, to the people here. “Always show respect to others,” Pentrothe had told him. “From the mightiest king to the lowliest beggar.”

  Jorem sat quietly while he finished his meal. The sound of dishes clattering in the background somehow relaxed him as he reviewed his ideas for the smith’s workshop. Even though he was tired, he was determined to finish what he had started. It would take weeks to get things to match the picture he had in his mind, but if he could get the basics in place, the rest would come with a little bit of persistence. Popping the last morsel of his meal into his mouth, Jorem washed it down with a swallow of milk. He savored the rich, creamy taste as it went down. Picking up his plate and mug, Jorem carried them over to the sink. As he set the dishes on the counter Daisy turned to regard him.

  “You get enough to eat then?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am and thank you,” Jorem said. “Would you please thank Biorne for me as well.”

  “Sure thing. You be sure to wash up when you get back. I don’t want all that tracked about the inn,” she said, gesturing to Jorem’s dirty clothing.

  Jorem grinned at the serving girl and gave a little bow. “Yes m’lady, t’would not do to cause thee displeasure in the least.”

  Quickly Jorem dashed out of the kitchen to avoid the wet dishrag Daisy threw at him. She might have hit him with the rag if she hadn’t been laughing so hard. Jorem continued running until he was out of the inn. It was quite dark outside so he lit one of the lanterns hanging on a post at the front of the inn and took it with him. With his hunger appeased and his mood buoyed Jorem returned to the smithy.

  Jorem spent the next few hours wiping down tools, mostly hammers and tongs, and organizing. He set the buckets at the ends of the benches nearest the forge. In one of the buckets, the largest of the three he had acquired, he put all of the hammers. He was amazed at how many hammers there were. The variety of sizes and shapes the hammers came in was surprising. In the second bucket he placed tongs of shapes and sizes he hadn’t thought existed. In the third he put all of the other tools he had found. Once that was accomplished he wiped down all of the benches and tables.

  He had found a small wooden box in one of the corners of the room that didn’t appear to have any purpose. The box was just big enough to hold two or three shovels full of coal. This he put behind the forge next to the bellows and filled it with coal. The last thing he did before leaving was to get the forge ready to light. On his way out of the smithy, Jorem hung the broom and shovel on some nails he had pounded into the wall next to the door.

  It was even darker outside now than it had been before. A thick blanket of clouds had moved in to blot out the stars in the sky, leaving the countryside in darkness. The trees loomed above him, dark shapes against a darker sky. Jorem shivered at the chill in the air. Small white flakes of snow drifted lazily to the ground. Thankful for the heavy clothing and the lantern, he wasted no time getting back to the warm comfort of the inn.

  When Jorem arrived back at the inn he once again found it crowded and bustling. Apparently the knighting ceremonies had ended and the multitude that had attended where hungry and tired. Jorem decided to go straight to the washroom to get cleaned up. He didn’t have any trouble getting through the crowd. As soon as people noticed how dirty he was, they quickly got out of his way. He would have liked a bite to eat, but in his present condition that probably wouldn’t be a good idea.

  Once in the washroom Jorem quickly stripped off his dirty clothes and spent the next half of a mark scrubbing himself from head to toe. As he was toweling himself dry, he realized that he hadn’t brought a clean set of clothes to change into. Wrapping himself with his damp towel Jorem opened the door and peered down the hallway to see if there was anyone coming. As soon as he was sure the way was clear he dashed across the hallway and into his room.

  To his surprise the room was not dark. Someone had not only lit the candle in his room, they had left a plate of cheese and bread along with a mug of chilled water. Quickly he slipped into some nightclothes and wrapped a blanket around himself. It wasn’t cold in his room, but neither was it warm. With his skin still damp from his bathing he felt chilled. Sitting down on the edge of his bed Jorem slowly nibbled at the cheese and bread. As his body slowly grew warmer his mind started to drift.

  It wasn’t long before he caught himself nodding off, so he set the plate of food aside. Curling up in his bed, Jorem smiled at the thought of what he had accomplished during the day. The smithy had almost seemed spacious after he had finished. Hopefully Franks would be pleased with the changes Jorem had made. Snuggling deeper under the covers, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter XVI

  It was well past morning when Jorem finally drug himself out of bed. He slipped into some of his lighter clothing and sauntered into the common room of the inn. A number of people were gathered there, some sitting at tables. Most of the people were standing near the doorway. Those by the door were dressed in heavy traveling cloaks. They were also wearing large fur hats and woolen mittens. Jorem sat himself down at what he was starting to think of as his table.

  The occasional glimpse offered through the doorway showed the ground had been covered with snow. Apparently the light snowfall that had begun the night before had gotten heavier through the night. Many of those who had traveled here to see the knighting of the duke’s son were concerned that they might be stranded here if the storm worsened. Many had already left and, of those that remained, most planned to be on their way within a mark or so. As much as possible they were trying to depart in large groups to minimize the risk of being stranded in one of the mountain passes.

  Linda had noticed Jorem’s arrival and went to fetch him his morning meal. When she stopped at his table she was carrying a bowl of hot cereal and a steaming mug of tea. After serving him his meal Linda leaned her shoulder against the wall and loosely folded her arms. Even though he was quite hungry, Jorem waited to see what she wanted before starting to eat.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to sleep the entire day away,” she said. “Much later and you would have missed first meal all together.”

  Although she smiled as she spoke, Jorem could tell there was something on her mind.

  “The smith said that he takes every Firstday off. So I’ll have a day each week free,” Jorem responded.

  “Firstday is usually really slow here so Daisy and I, we take turns working. That way we get every other Firstday off. There’re not so many places to shop as most places are closed, but there are a few that stay open. Covering a yawn, she asked, “What are you going to do with your first day off?

  “I hadn’t planned anything,” Jorem said. “I might wander around the town a bit. I haven’t got a winter cloak, so maybe I’ll buy one while I’ve got the time.”

  Linda nodded and said, “There’s a shop not far from here that sells cloaks and such. It’s about a quarter mark’s walk from here but it’s worth the walk. The cloaks are warm and the prices are right. The place is called Wrappings. I’ll write down the dir
ections for you and leave them on the counter so you can pick them up when you’re ready to go. You’d best wear the heaviest clothes you have. It’s a bit nippy out.”

  “Thanks,” Jorem said. “I’ll make that my first stop.”

  With a smile, Linda pushed herself off the wall with a nudge and started to walk toward the kitchen. After a few steps she stopped and looked back to Jorem as if she had just remembered something.

  “Oh, I almost forgot, Biorne wants to talk to you. He’s not here right now but he should be back in a bit,” she said over her shoulder. Then she disappeared through the kitchen door.

  Jorem finished his meal and wiped up the last of the cereal with a chunk of coarse bread. Then he headed back to his room to put on some warmer clothes. He decided to wear the heavier clothes over what he already had on for extra protection from the cold. Trudging through the cold for an extended time didn’t sound very appealing without a good cloak. He didn’t have any mittens so he would have to keep his hands in his pockets to keep them warm. He thought about wearing his sword but decided against it. The way he was dressed he’d likely be accused of stealing it.

  Retrieving the gold mark that Jacobs had given him from it’s hiding place in an old pair of socks, Jorem headed back to the common room to see if Biorne had returned. It was late enough in the day that the cook had already started cooking a stew for the midday meal. The aroma filtered down the hallway, getting stronger as Jorem approached the common room. Even though he had just eaten, the smell of the stew caused his stomach to growl.

  When he got to the common room, there were only a few people there. The fire in the hearth burned low. A pot much smaller than what had been over the fire earlier hung above the flames. A young boy sat next to the fire occasionally stirring the contents of the pot. Biorne sat at a table near the kitchen door. The little man was studiously writing in some kind of ledger. He was so intent on his task that he didn’t even look up until Jorem was standing right next to him.

  “Sit down for a moment,” Biorne said, waving to a chair. “Linda tells me you plan to venture into town today.”

  “Yes sir,” Jorem said. “The snow isn’t falling too heavily and I’d like to get a cloak and look about the town.”

  “Do you have any coin besides the gold crown you had earlier?” Biorne ask with a quizzical look on his face.

  “No, that’s all I have. Surely that should be enough for a cloak,” Jorem said, slightly confused.

  Biorne smiled and shook his head. “Actually that would probably be enough to buy the entire shop. I took the liberty of getting some smaller valued coins for you in exchange for the gold mark”.

  Biorne reached into a valise that was on the floor beside his chair. From the valise he withdrew several leather pouches. When he set the leather pouches on the table they clinked with the sound of coins.

  The innkeeper looked Jorem in the eyes. “A lad your age flashing around a gold crown would cause most people to figure you for a thief. One of the fastest ways to get people interested in you is to start showing signs of money. There’s more in each of these pouches than a good tradesman earns in a full cycle. We here in Broughbor like to think we have a good community with good people in it. The truth is that there are good and bad wherever you go.”

  Biorne paused a moment and looked Jorem over. “You’re a lad yet and you’re not dressed in fine clothes, so I doubt anyone will take notice of you unless you give them a reason to. Tuck your money pouch inside your clothes, somewhere it won’t rattle when you walk. When you buy something only take out the coins you need. Any questions?”

  Jorem was rather taken back by all that Biorne had said. He had never even thought of there being danger in carrying money. Then again, he had never needed to pay for anything before. Whenever he had gone into town or to a festival, if he had seen something he wanted it was simply delivered to his room at the castle. That there were bandits, he was aware. He also knew that people were occasionally robbed in the town near the castle. That was why there was a town guard, to deal with those problems. That he himself could be the victim of such a crime was something new to him.

  As Jorem stood and began gathering up the pouches the innkeeper waved him off. “Leave those, I’ll put them in your room. Tie one to your belt and tuck it inside your pants.”

  Jorem did as Biorne had suggested and started for the door. He detoured to the counter where he found a scrap of paper with some hastily written directions on it. He read through the directions once to make sure that he understood them. Folding the paper, he slid it into his pocket then walked over to the door.

  “Keep an eye on the weather,” Biorne said from across the room. “It’s not bad right now, just a bit of snow. If the wind picks up it could get bad out there in a hurry.”

  When Jorem opened the door he found that the world had been transformed. Everything was covered with a layer of white, fluffy snow. Big, fluffy flakes drifted lazily out of the sky to land on the ground. About a finger length of snow lay in a narrow mound along the railing that ran the length of the inn’s porch. The bows of the pine trees glistened with the snow that covered them. The tracks of the horses and wagons that had left earlier were nearly obscured by the snow that had fallen since the travelers had left. Inhaling deeply of the crisp, cold air, Jorem set off on his way.

  Chapter XVII

  By the time Jorem reached the shop Linda had spoken of, his hair was soaked and his clothes weren’t much drier. As he stepped through the door of the shop, he ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. When he let go of his hair he felt it slap damply against his back. He almost yelped as a cold rivulet of water ran down his neck. It hadn’t taken much more than a quarter of a mark to walk to the shop. In that time a fair amount of snow had landed on him. His shoes were soaked through and his feet were cold.

  The room he stood in was warm and smelled of fragrant spices. Several racks of coats, sweaters and cloaks were hung in rows across the room. Along the walls were shelves that held scarves, hats and a variety of other items all neatly folded and stacked. When Jorem closed the door a small bell attached to the top of the door jingled. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps into the shop when a short, elderly woman with gray hair came scurrying into the room from a doorway at the back of the shop.

  The woman’s expression was bright and cheerful until she rounded the last rack of coats and could see Jorem clearly. Instantly her expression of friendliness was gone. She looked almost angry as she approached. Her face was stern and her lips were tight. Elderly and short she might be, but Jorem could see that she was not one to cower in a corner.

  “Young man, if you are looking for a handout you came to the wrong place.” She spoke with such forcefulness that Jorem nearly turned to leave. “I have little enough for myself and I’m not about to hand what I do have over to the likes of you.”

  Jorem wiped the moisture from his face with the coarse fabric of his shirt. He supposed he did look a bit bedraggled. He certainly felt that way. If he were a thief or a vagabond with no place to go, a nice warm shop like this would definitely be attractive with this weather. He definitely had no desire to go back out in the cold, even though he knew he still had to return to the inn.

  “I was hoping to purchase a cloak.” Jorem kept his voice low and calm so as not to agitate the woman further. “Linda at the Broken Arms told me this was the best place to find what I need.”

  At the mention of Linda’s name and the prospect of a potential sale the old woman’s expression returned to smiles of welcome. She apologized for being so discourteous and explained that some of the local ruffians had invaded other shops in the city on foul weather days. Often they seize the opportunity to rob the shops’ owners of their money and merchandise. Jorem felt pity for anyone who crossed this lady. Small and old she might be but she was definitely not docile.

  The old woman proceeded to show Jorem a number of cloaks she had in his size. The styles and colors of cloaks ranged from v
ibrant and flashy to plain and simple. Although the fancier cloaks were tempting, Jorem chose a more ordinary style. The shopkeeper seemed pleased with his choice. While he tried it on she explained that it was made of tightly woven wool. Before the wool had been spun into thread it had been soaked in a special solution that kept water from soaking into it. The cloak was a bit large for him but with the extra clothing he had on it didn’t show.

  In addition to the cloak, the woman talked Jorem into purchasing a scarf and a strange type of gloves that only covered half the length of his fingers. The gloves had a flap that folded over the fingers turning the gloves into mittens. The gloves seemed a bit extravagant to him but he couldn’t resist their unique design. Besides, as long as he kept the flap folded over his fingers they looked like any other pair of mittens.

  The woman walked to a counter at the back of the shop, picked up a pad and pencil, and started writing.

  “Is there anything else that I can interest you in?” She asked.

  As Jorem moved to the counter his shoes squelched with each step. Although his clothing had begun to dry while he had been in the shop, his shoes were still soaked. The woman’s gaze was drawn down to the sound coming from his shoes. Her brow wrinkled when she saw the state of his footwear. When he had left the inn they had been in fairly good condition. Soft supple leather custom fit to his feet. Now they were soggy, limp rags sagging at his ankles.

  “There is a shoemaker just a few doors down from here,” the old woman informed Jorem. “He closes his shop for Firstday, but I could ask him to make an exception for you. If you’re going to be walking through the snow you really need a good pair of boots.”