Debra Kay Leland

by From Whence Came A Stranger. . .

  He glanced at his friend before he spoke. “William, I—I think it best not to bring trouble on ourselves, find a farm on the way to Chadwick and leave the food there with them. We need not a cow from Chadwick, when we are able to get one from any English farm closer to Whittington and ye know it!”

  William turned to his friend with a frown before he looked back to the road in front of him once again. “All shall be well, Phillip… Surely, I was spared at Glenton Moore for a reason, and I shall not perish doing good.”

  Phillip glanced at him again frowning as he did so, wondering at the words he’d just spoken. Not at all sure that merely ‘doing good’ would be enough to save either of them from harm this day…

  They rode the rest of the way in silence; Phillip could tell his friend’s mood and held his tongue, though it did nothing to ease his own worried thoughts—nor stop him from glancing over his shoulder endlessly as they went along…

  The village was larger than Glenton Moor, and the inhabitants of the settlement turned to look as they neared; most with smiling faces assuming they were also Welsh, though soon they would find out that it was not so.

  Children played with one another around the crude shelters, women washed clothes by the stone well and the men that weren’t away hunting or toiling in the fields turned with tolerant gazes as they passed. And it was all Phillip could do to resist the urge to rest his hand on the hilt of his sword, fearing a less than welcoming reception by the uneasy looks the men had given them as they passed.

  William murmured, never taking his eyes from the road. “Easy my friend, they only wonder what two strangers are doing in their village…. And they only look to protect their own.”

  Phillip glanced at him then back at the road in front of them stiffly. “Aye, and so do I, thy neck and my own also!”

  The group of men came closer slowly stepping out to block their way. William pulled back on the reins and glanced at Phillip uneasily before they stopped and cautiously climbed down. Their hands on the hilts of their swords letting all know that they meant no trouble, but they intended to fight if they were pressed to do so.

  Three of the men separated from the group and faced them on rigid legs, strong arms crossed over their chests and wary eyed. William drew a long breath and glanced at Phillip who stood aside him now. The oldest of the three, tall and well muscled stepped forward and stopped; his hands falling to lean hips as he watched them. “We do not care for stranger in our village.”

  William glanced around noticing that all the quiet activity had ceased and now every eye was riveted on them and them alone; some of the villagers had even begun to fill the path encircling them from behind, blocking any retreat—and he was nervous. He watched as the man in front of him slowly slid his hand to his sword in a quiet lethal gesture, and one that was duly noted. William tilted his head warily, falling back on the only thing he knew about this village… “I have only come to inquire of Alden Blair.”

  The man eyes narrowed even more as he stared at him because of his words. “Ye be English!”

  “I am.”

  “From Glenton Moor?”

  “Aye.”

  The man’s sword hissed from its sheath; the sound of it was meant to be a warning, and it was.

  William grabbed Phillip’s arm, halting him from drawing his own sword against the villagers. He would not be the first to do harm, but he would not hesitate to fight if need be!

  “Egan Wallace, do ye welcome a guest of my da’s with yur sword?!”

  William shifted his gaze to the villagers that encircled them with a frown at the sound of the young soft voice, and then watched as a girl stepped calmly from among the gathered crowd. She was beautiful; her long reddish hair glimmered in the sun lying in soft silken ringlets to her waist. Her eyes were blue and wide, adding the beauty of her face. Though she was small, she walked towards the large man in front of him calmly and laid a hand his sword arm. “Put away yur sword, Egan, ‘tis my da they seek this day, not trouble.”

  The man glanced at her with a hard frown, then at the two strangers who stood stiffly in front of him; he hesitated then grudgingly dropped his sword to his side, but would not put it away as she had asked. “Dammit, lass, have ye not a care?! Ye do not know what vermin these may be!”

  She frowned at him, and then turned towards the two visitors with wary but honest eyes who had yet to draw their own swords remembering what her father had said of the English he had spoken to from Glenton Moor. She glanced at the cart full of vegetables behind him and continued, “If—ye have come to see, Alden Blair and ye mean no trouble in this place, then I shall take ye to him.”

  Egan grabbed her arm and growled. “Nay, ye shall not!”

  She dropped her gaze to the arm that he still held and stared at it unblinking till he withdrew his hand and released her; then she lifted her eyes to his warily. Egan had pursued her for nigh two months now and she had learned to stand up to the man in that short time. “Ye would do well not to touch me again, Egan Wallace, or ye shall find yurself with my knife next time.” She turned to look at the two men who were watching with cautious eyes and somehow she was sure that they mean no trouble here. “Come, follow me.”

  “Nay, lass! Not alone!” Egan stepped to block her way but she easily stepped around him, then motioned the visitors to follow her again.

  Egan threw an angry glare at the unwelcome guests before he stepped behind her protectively. William gave Phillip a nod, then climbed back up onto the cart slowly; doing his best to ignore the pointed stares of those who still stood around them with swords drawn. He knew that one false move even now would not end well for any of them!

  He flicked the reins and turned the cart to follow the girl who now led them out of the village and towards a small farm not far from there. The villagers hardly moved as he drove past them following the tall man and the young girl on the dirt path. He wasn’t sure what her name was, but he was glad she’d been there!

  She was glad too—glad that she didn’t have far to go; for their farm was just around a bend from the village. Though her footsteps never faulted, she knew she was trembling; but she was determined that there would be no bloodshed this day if she could help it!

  Her escort cast them angry glances over his stiff shoulders as they went; while others from the village followed not far behind—and truth be told she was more than glad for it all! Her father had said that he thought the man to be honest, and although he looked such, she still wasn’t quite sure if she had done a wise thing or not. But if she had done nothing at all, surely there would have been bloodshed this day…!

  “That was close.” William murmured softly.

  “Aye, too close for my liking. Good thing the girl was there.”

  William couldn’t help but smile a little at his words. “Aye, she’s small, but brave.”

  Phillip tilted his head and caught the amused smile on his friend’s face, but didn’t return it as he whispered, “Or very foolish, she knows us not!”

  William almost laughed. “I think she’s aware of that, look at her hand, Phillip.”

  Phillip glanced ahead at the girl’s calm step—and then at the sharpened knife hidden in her palm that glinted against the bright midday sun and he smiled to himself also. “Well now, I suppose not so foolish, aye?”

  Miranda did her best to walk as calmly as she could, knowing all the while that Egan and the two strangers were close behind her—which one unnerved her more was hard to say. Egan had already made his intentions towards her quite clear, feeling that weren’t reciprocated to say the least! And though she knew she should be worried about the two strangers; yet something about their kind eyes put her at ease—at least she hoped it was kindness she saw there and not a rouse.

  They rounded the bend and came towards the small farm. Her father was on a ladder mending the thatched roof on the barn. He stopped and lifted a hand to his eyes against the glaring sun before he climbed down, wiping his hands on his trousers as he c
ame towards them—and bringing his daughter to his side protectively at the sight before him. “Good day to ye, Egan. Ah, English, ‘tis ye who wanders to my home this fine day, welcome.” He glanced at the villagers who stood at a distance watching them intently and waved them off. “All is well, ye may go back to yur own business now!”

  Slowly they all turned and walked away, glancing back as they did so, making it quite clear they too were not happy about the strangers who had come to visit him that day.

  His daughter, whose golden cheeks were now blushed pink threaded her arms around his stout middle and smiled up at him—more than glad to finally be home with the group she had led. “Da, this Englishman and his companion inquired after ye in the village.”

  He glanced down at her and smiled. “Go along now, daughter, the men and I would talk without women about us.”

  She managed a smile before she turned to go into the hut; catching her mother’s worried eyes though the slightly open door before the woman took her arm and pulled her inside closing the door sharply behind her.

  Egan shifted and glanced between the strangers at his side and Alden in front of him. “What do ye think yur doing, Alden, inviting trouble to our village like this?!”

  The older man lifted a hand to silence him as he glanced at William and Phillip who stood beside the cart awaiting a verdict to their dilemma before he faced Egan again. “’Twas not from an invitation that they have come this day, but—” He glanced at them again, then back at the angry young man who stood stiffly before him. “—if they come here seeking hospitality and mean no harm, then I shall give it. English, are ye come to my farm to seek trouble with my kin?”

  William dropped his sword hand to his side and met the older man’s eyes squarely. “Nay, Alden, though since ye are the only one I know from this village, I inquired of thee. But in truth, I have only come to barter.”

  Alden smiled again and then turned back to the dark scowling Egan. “See, he brings no trouble!”

  “All English are trouble!”

  Alden laughed heartily, doing his best to calm those around him. “That may be so, and in truth I shall soon see, but ‘tis no concern of yurs, Egan Wallace. Come English, and I shall show ye my hospitality and then we shall see to thy goods. Good day to ye, Egan.”

  The tall man glared at the three as they turned and went towards the small hut closing the door behind them. He stood there for a long minute glaring in their direction even after the door was already shut; then strode back down towards the village again, his black mood in no way lessened.

  “Come, English, sit, sit. Rae, bring our guests some ale.” His short plump wife glanced at the three with wide worried eyes as she brought the small keg and wooden cups to the narrow table. “Ye would do well to avoid, Egan… and the men with him.”

  William nodded. “Had I known I would have received such a welcome this day I might not have come; but ‘twas thy daughter who spared us a fight, and for that I’m grateful.”

  Alden nodded and cast his blushing daughter a glance that made her turn away for she knew he was not at all pleased at the risk she took without knowing these men more. “So English, ye have come to trade then?”

  “Aye, and to inquire if any would be willing to work. There is more to do than the three of us can manage if we hope to have the village repaired by first snow fall.”

  “Repair the village? Why in the name of the Almighty would ye do such a thing?!”

  William hesitated and glanced down at the cup in front of him, then back up at the older man seated on the bench across from him. “’Tis right to do so, in truth, it should have never been destroyed in the first place.”

  The old man took a sip of his ale and set the cup down purposefully. “Strange thing for an English to say...”

  “Not so strange for man of morals. English or not, that village belonged to the women, the children and the old, yet even now it stands empty. ‘Tis not right.”

  He stared at his young guest knowing he could see good in his blue eyes. “I imagine if yur countrymen heard tell, they would string ye up by yur neck.”

  William only laughed. “Or die trying!”

  His host only laughed hardily with him seeing the strength of the man seated across from him. “’Tis true by the looks of ye!” He pushed away from the table and then stood. “Well then, shall we see to that which ye have brought, and perhaps ye might leave here with something in trade.”

  Miranda stood to the side of the narrow room kneading the flat bread that her mother had begun, listening to her father and his guests speak, hardly able to keep herself from glancing over her shoulder at the two handsome men who sat at their table. One had reddish hair and kind eyes; his companion was equally handsome, with dark hair that hung down and curled at the nape of his neck. His face was strong and handsome with deep blue eyes that looked honest and true. He was taller than the other, with broad shoulders and long legs. She was sure he was more than just a farmer, for her da had even thought as much when he had met him—and perhaps he had even been a knight. His deep voice made him sound as if he could command an army itself and she wondered if he had. She glanced at him again till her mother tapped her arm briskly making her turned away without a word. None of them were sure why the English had really come to Glenton Moor, but she was sure it wasn’t for trouble—or at least she hoped that it was so! For they had all had enough trouble without this man making more…

  The bartering now done, the three men went to work on unloading the cart before they tied a scrawny cow and her young calf to the back for the long journey home. “I shall ride with ye, English, until ye are out of our village, ‘twould not be safe to go alone.”

  William nodded stiffly and waited for the old man to climb into the cart. “Do ye fear trouble for us on the road home?”

  Alden shrugged. “I cannot say for sure what they would do, though I would think that they would let ye pass through peacefully enough. None of them want to bring the English armies down upon us by doing something foolish!”

  The old man’s hesitant words didn’t sit easily with either of them, and as they neared the village the occupants stopped and watched them wordlessly with dark eyes. Alden nodded to his stiff neighbors, not expecting a greeting in return, nor did he get one. He took them far enough out of the village so they would have a head start if trouble followed, then had them stop. “English, I bid ye good day, and… and if ye have ought to barter again, only bring it to the village the first day of the week by mid morning. I shall make sure one of my children are there each week to watch for ye. If in truth ye wish to make them trust ye, this is where ye must start—though I would warn ye English that if ye are doing this deceitfully, it shall not end well for thee.”

  William smiled and held out his hand, the Welshman looked at it, then smiled and clasp it heartily. “I have no hidden purpose, Alden. I came this day with the hope to show my neighbors that I am not a threat, hopefully I have succeeded in that even if somewhat. But I thank thee for thy friendship and the warnings too, I shall be careful not to give them reason to doubt my good intentions. Well, much thanks, Alden, and good day to thee!”

  “Aye. God speed, English.” The old man nodded with a satisfied smile at his honest words.

  He smiled and flicked the reins as his companion murmured stiffly, glancing behind them with worried eyes as they went. “William, tell me ye would not ye go back again after the welcome we received this day?!”

  “Aye, we shall go back, we have to…”

  Phillip merely rolled his worried eyes.

  William glanced at him and knew what he was thinking, and with good reason too. But they needed to barter for livestock, and he wanted to make sure the food that the villagers had left in the gardens and in the fields didn’t go to waste—but more importantly he wanted his neighbors to know that he wasn’t a threat and that they could trust him. And so it was to his benefit to have a friend in Alden Blair.

  Phillip shook his head slowly
at his words, but kept his thoughts to himself despite his desire to argue the point when he knew it would do no good…

  Miranda’s younger brother Turin came down the same trail he had left earlier that day to go hunting; his shoulder’s now laden with quail, his bow and quiver on the other. The lad was twelve summers, not overly tall, but strong and lean with reddish hair and bright blue eyes like their father. He smiled when he saw her. They were the only children of Alden Blair, and the joy of his life. “Good day to ye, brother. I see ye have had a good hunt!”

  He smiled proudly into her soft face. “Aye, I did.” He said and lifted his prize proudly.

  “We had visitors this day, the English da had told of!”

  “English!? Here?!” The boys couldn’t help but frown as he kept pace with her.

  “Aye, Egan and the men of the village weren’t too pleased for it either.”

  The boy shook his head as he walked. “Nor am I! We have no reason to show hospitality to the likes of him!”

  “Now Turin, don’t ye go and get all riled up with words like that! In truth, the man only came to trade, and then he left.”

  He paused, studying his sister’s delicate features a moment before he spoke. “I see he has made a friend in thee. If ye were smart, lass, ye would hide yurself from him!”

  She blushed and continued to look ahead as she walked ignoring his trite words. “He seems the goodly sort and said he wishes to rebuild Glenton Moor and see it turned over to the widows and children that yet remain.”

  Turin hastened his steps till he had caught up with her again. “Have a care, sister, that ye do not fall under the man’s spell! All English are liars and thieves and we know it well!”