The drizzle and fog covered the sounds of the horses hooves in the
dirt and stone as he approached to the edged of town. Not that he was
trying to avoid being seen. His wool cloak and hood wrapped tight in
the wet rain, his horse kept a steady rhythm as he had done a thousand
times before. The guards ate edge of town stood under a makeshift
cover of hides while they warmed themselves by a small fire. When they
finally heard him, he was practically on top of them.
They moved quickly into position. Two on the right side, and three on
the left, away from his sword arm. "Halt!" one called. "What business
do ye have here?" questioned the obvious leader. He had a straighter
stand and looked like he had been around a field or two in his day.
The others stood vigilant, but not as sure of themselves.
"I come from Conwy with a message for the Bishop" he said as his horse
shifted slightly below him. His eyes moved back and forth below his
hood, assessing each man. He beckoned the lead guard forward with his
hand. "I have a letter of travel with the seal of the Bishop himself."
He patted the bag that was hanging at his side under his cloak that
was only opened enough to see. The leader slowly approached, keeping
himself on sheathed sword side. Smart Kevin thought. He knows that he
has more time to move away should I draw my sword.
The lead guard moved closer with his torch. He could not see into the
hood at the strangers face, but he did look quickly at his boots. A
mans boots told you a lot about the man. These were well worn but of
solid build. Mud caked on the bottom as you would expect. But he grew
nervous as he could see the mans boots were stained with blood. I was
soaked into the creases in the leather. He approached with more
caution. As the stranger pulled his cloak aside far enough to show the
bag, but not wide enough to let the drizzle get to him. His hands were
worn as well, tough, calloused. But not as a Farmers or Blacksmiths
was. His were weather worn. And there was no doubt as to the mans
background when the hilt of his sword glinted in the light from his
torch. "Aye, let me have a look"he said as he reached out and took
another step that would put him in reach of a blade.
The horse quivered slightly at the shift of weight as the stranger
reached in his bag and pulled a parchment to hand to the Guard. He was
betting that the guard could not read. But bet he knew the seal of the
Bishop. The Guard took the parchment and recognized the seal. He
glanced quickly up at the stranger then asked. "Deliver a message, is
that you are here for?"
"That and a place to dry and rest. That is all. I will be gone before
daybreak." He was sure that the tavern he knew was next to some
stables where his steed could get some grain and get out of the
weather. He reached back for the parchment and placed it back in his
bag. The guard looked at him closely and finally catching glimpse of
his face in the dim flicker of the torch.
"Do I know you?" he asked. "Have you ever been to Wrecsam before?" The
guard seemed to have a faint hint of a memory of that face. He looked
for any other telltale signs that this stranger was known to him.
"Many times my good man. Many Times." With that he squeezed his legs
around the horse which slowly moved forward slowly towards the other
guards. With a nod from the lead, the others parted to let him pass.
"Now get out of this weather. Not fit for Man or Beast" he called back
over his shoulder to the group as he waved. He could hear them as the
horse slowly moved towards the center of town, "Did ye know him
Allister?" and a short reply "I am not sure, but I think I have seen
him before". Then the fog and drizzle silenced any sounds from them.
It a few short hours, it would all be over. Just one stop, then bed
the horse and he could get some mead and some food. The horses hooves
kept a steady pace as he slumped on its back. He was sure that he was
not followed. he wound his way through streets he knew as he made his
way to the church. He reached it sooner than he would have wanted, he
was still tense from the ride. His arm still throbbed and the twitch
in his sword hand was still there. His nerves were still on edge.
He dropped off and tied his horse, stepped back and gave it a pat and
rub between the eyes. Shaking the wet from his cloak, he opened it
wide and dropped the hood. He moved to the steps and pushed the door
open. He stood inside the doorway letting his eyes adjust. As he
looked around, he saw the deacon look at him. He nodded and the deacon
acknowledged him and hurried off. Within a few minutes, the Bishop was
walking among the pews towards him.
"Your safe. Good, we were worried" said the Bishop as he put an arm on
his shoulder and moved him to an alcove off to the side. The bishop
was a tall thin man that looked more like a haggard man from the
fields than a man of the church. "Did you have any trouble on the
way?" he asked.
"None more than usual" Kevin answered as he reached for another
parchment in his bag. He knew the Bishop was worried, but also knew
the man did not want to know more than what he had told him. The roads
between Wrecsam and Conwy were always dangerous. Better to spare the
man details of the desperate men and the sites he had seen and dealt
with over the past fortnight. He passed the parchment to th Bishop who
quickly checked the seal, then opened it. He watched the Bishops eyes
as he read the note. He hid whatever it was he was thinking well.
"Thank you for this Kevin. We have waited a long time for this."His
eyes came up from the parchment and he hurriedly slipped it under his
robes and his hands came back into view with a small pouch. "A little
something extra above the price we agreed upon. Now I must go and deal
with this. Is there anything more I can do for you?" he asked as he
clapped the traveler on his shoulder. "Food, Drink?"
"No, its late. I need to tend to my horse. Then I will make my way to
the tavern for some food and a bed." With that the Bishop smiled at
him and turned to walk away. Within a few feet he stopped and looked
back.
"Bless you son, you have done enough. I know that this was your last
call. Do go with Gods blessings, and find peace."
With that he was gone. The church was now empty except for the deacon
at the front of the church tending to some candles. He took a moment
in the shadows to breathe. He looked up at the windows and the class
that kept the rain out. Without saying anything, he left, quietly
pulling the door closed as he did.
He mounted, and without speaking or much movement, he guided the steed
back down the road in the direction he had come. Towards the stables
and tavern. Just a few hours and it would all be over. All of it.
...to be continued
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