Euphemistically Yours

Despite the viewpoint of children and peasants, riding horseback over long distances is actually slower than walking. A horse gets tired and needs frequent breaks for water, food, and rest. On the other hand, there are advantages. For example, in my case, a warhorse is a symbol of status and power. As a free squire, I was representing the interests of my liege lord, so I needed to look the part.

After six days on the road, I wasn’t sure it mattered. A beadle or herald of the duke would normally be accompanied by a group of servants and retainers. They would travel slowly and arrive fresh at their destination. In contrast, a little errand like mine didn’t demand such expense. Instead, as a lesser retainer, I was traveling alone. The sweat and dirt from the road was caked on. When I rubbed a hand through my beard, I could hear the crackle of dust breaking free.

My poor horse, Honey, was no better. She was tired and irritated. Even now, I had to keep one eye on her at all times or she’d take a nip out of my arm. She was trained to be aggressive, so I’m glad she was such a sweetie. A meaner warhorse would be likely to kick or stomp.

“You’re my first love, Honey. It’s not far now! You can sleep in a barn tonight!”

In response, she blew out a sad sigh, almost a groan. About the same reply I’d get from my wife or children given the same foolish promises.

Instead of her familiar stables and paddocks, she’d been picketed each night. Rather than hay and oats, her diet consisted of whatever scrubby grass we’d been able to find. Finding water several times each day has been just as difficult. I didn’t blame her for being snippy. After all, how was I going to explain that the return trip would take another six days?

At least I could be thankful that this trip was in LowAutumn. The weather was nice, the fields were nearly ripe, and there was even an occasional drizzle. If I’d had to take the same road in the heat of MidSummer or the snows of HighWinter, I feel like Honey would have given up on me.

This expedition wasn’t fair at all to her. Considering Honey was my most expensive possession, I’d tried my best to keep her happy the whole way. As long as nobody was looking, I walked beside her. This removed most of the burden, while also showing that we were in this together. I’d rather wear out my boots than Honey’s patience.

Finally, as the sun was falling on the sixth day, I could make out the first signs of the hamlet ahead. This was my destination. Like most outlying settlements, it didn’t even have a name on the maps. In fact, it didn’t even appear on the maps at all. From the letter received at the Lord’s castle, the locals apparently called it Lakesedge. There was some debate whether that was meant as “Lake’s Edge” or “Lake Sedge.” If I really cared, I suppose I could ask the village headman.

“Time to mount up.”

She wheezed a bit as I stepped up into the saddle, but she had her own sense of pride. She stuck out her chest and held her head higher. She knew she was a proper warhorse and she wouldn’t let serfs think any less of her.

As Honey handled the last leg into town, I brushed off my mail hauberk and shook the dust out of my cape. My pot helmet was calling to me from where it was stuck on the horn of my saddle, but there were limits to my endurance. Donning it would just make me hot, sweaty, and miserable. Besides, I wanted to present a friendly face.

The center of town was defined as the spot where two paths crossed. The largest houses huddled together at that point, set apart from the shacks, huts, and hovels in the surrounding fields behind me. If I kept going forward, the slope of the land fell off, leading down into the village’s so-called lake.

As Honey and I walked into the center square, various personages of the hamlet stepped out of their front doors to take a look. I could easily distinguish the outfits and hallmarks of a butcher, a grocer, and a tinker smith. The last was a bit surprising for a village this size, but that was no concern of mine.

After waiting a moment, an elderly man stepped out of the largest house and made his way over to my position. From his finer clothes and attitude, I could guess this was the village headman. His thin white hair formed a cloudy halo around his head, but his eyes were sharp and mean.

At his approach, I took an instant dislike to him. Honey, somehow sensing my emotions, whuffed out a breath and turned her head to get a look. She was ready to bite his face off. Luckily, I had my hands on the reins, so the man was spared the indignity and the agony.

I stared at him. He stared back at me.

This went on a while, as if there was a contest of wills. I suppose he was trying to build up his local reputation by facing off with me. Unfortunately, I knew my place and my duty. If he didn’t bow to me soon, I’d be forced to remove his head. After all, I was wearing the green and blue colors of the Duke.

I was only a squire, but even at that, I greatly outranked a mere headman of some outlying hamlet that I'd never heard of. Comparing the two of us was like comparing the sea to the sky. Furthermore, as a representative of the Duke, I had more than just my own honor to uphold. If I let a village elder get by without proper obeisance, it would reflect badly on my liege and my country.

In the end, he gave in and knelt down on one knee. “Hail to thee, Sir Knight! We welcome thou to our humble Lakesedge. We stand ready to serve.”

I wasn’t a sir or a knight, he wasn’t humble, and he wasn’t standing. He’d also mixed up his thees and thous. I couldn’t help but smile at everything he’d done wrong. But, I was glad I wouldn’t have to kill him, so I decided to consider it a good enough effort.

From the top of my horse, I looked around the square. “My name is Deft, in service to the Duke. I have come in response to a message that arrived from here, borne by a merchant’s hand.”

The elder regained his feet, “Thine humble servant’s name is Apt. I serve as the humble village headman. The message sent thou was written by mine humble hand.”

High heavens! How proud can a person be of his supposed humility?

Unfortunately, his words explained a lot. The writing and verbiage in the letter were so poor that the scribes couldn’t quite make heads or tails of it. I’d seen the letter myself and pitied the officials if receiving such messages was common. It had mentioned some sort of trouble or emergency, but it wasn’t clear at all. Something to do with a foreigner and something to do with one of the village women.

“Now that I am here, could you explain the problem in more detail?”

Apt gave a nod, but then pointed back the way I’d come from, “Thou eyes should best behold the strangeness for theeself.”

I stifled a giggle at his continued failed attempts at outdated courteous speech before I could reply. “First, tell me a bit more. Your letter wasn’t precise. Also, you may speak normally. It’s enough that I can tell you were trying.”

His gums flapped open and closed, unsure where to start.

I didn’t like the man, but I just wanted some straight answers so I could go home again with a good report. How could I get him to simply talk straight to me? I considered it for a moment, then decided that it might help to get down with him on his level. Staring down at him from atop my horse must have seemed like an angry lord on his throne.

Apt scrambled away as I dismounted from Honey. I made sure to step off on his side, because I could tell that she was edgy and wanted to chew on something. I’d rather she took a bite from my armored shoulder than the old man’s bare head.

Once I was on the ground, our heights weren’t that different. He was bent over from age, but he’d probably been taller than me when he was younger. The demands of our difference in status meant I couldn’t clasp his hand to bridge the gap, so instead, I reached out to grip his shoulder.

“Just explain the situation from the beginning. What happened? Why’d you send a letter?”

“Sir! It’s not my fault! I didn’t do anything!”

I guess the closer proximity and the shoulder grab scared him even worse.

“Don’t worry Apt. You’re not in any trouble.” Of course that was a lie. I’d need to decide whether he was in trouble or not once I knew what the actual problem was.

“It’s one of the serf farmers’ wives, Diligence. She took in a stray child - a foreigner.”

“A stray child, you say? How did you know the child was foreign?”

“She can’t speak a word of sense and her face and hair are … different.”

“She? It’s a girl? How is the girl so different?”

“Her hair is black as night and her face is as ugly as sin.”

By my estimation, all serfs are ugly. Missing teeth. Crossed eyes. Knock knees. Poor hygiene and poor nutrition. Coming out to the boonies like this is like seeing the worst dregs of humanity.

However, black hair is pretty unusual. Looking around, the other people in the village all had typical light colors - brown, blonde, white, ginger. If a stray child showed up with black hair, that must mean there were foreigners lurking nearby. At worst, that meant raiders from the northern plains.

Unfortunately, that suspicion didn’t make any sense. Lakesedge bordered the western swamps. There might be bandits or rebellion, but this was the peaceful back end of the duchy. There’s no reason and no way that a group of raiders could or would have made it this far south.

If this was all a giant waste of time, I wouldn’t be removing the headman’s head, but I’d definitely be collecting some extra “taxes” to justify my trip to the Duke. Still, something just didn’t add up.

“So, there’s a foreigner girl. That’s hardly enough reason to send a message to the Duke.”

“But she’s a magician. Isn’t that important?”

“Huh?” I could feel Honey twitch behind me at my sudden change in tone.

“She’s a magician. That’s what I wrote in that letter!”

“Uhh… right.” I’d read that whole letter, and I didn’t see where he’d ever suggested that idea.

Either way, this must be some rural superstition. Girls aren’t trained as mages, only men. Furthermore, children aren’t mages at all. It requires years of training and practice.

Not that I was an expert. I’d met a mage once when I’d traveled with the Duke to Kingseat. The man was a knight and personal retainer to the Duke of Northold. Even then, I’d never seen a bit of his so-called magic. It was too precious to be spent on frivolities.

“She’s a mage!” Apt insisted again.

“All right. Suppose she is. Why’d you write the letter?”

“Aren’t mages important people? Is there a reward for finding one?”

Oh! He thought there’d be a reward. I tilted my head to consider my options. Obviously, if she was an actual mage, the Duke would want to take her as a retainer. But, the odds of that reality were low. From what I’d heard, most magicians couldn’t even muster up enough power to blow out a candle. The few that could move the wind were the outliers. Furthermore, there’s no way a female novice would ever be accepted as an apprentice to receive training.

Seeing my reluctance, Apt pointed back down the road again, “You should see for yourself! Here she comes now!”

My eyes followed the line of his trembling finger to fall upon a family walking along the path into town together. In the middle was the mother, a woman with her hair pulled back in a scarf. At her side was a younger man, probably her son, with the fine hairs of his first beard coming in. On the other side were two smaller children, a girl and an even smaller boy.

The sun was setting behind me, so the colors were muted. Not that I expected bright hues. But, even at this distance, I could see that the little girl had quite normal blond hair.

“That girl? I thought you said she had black hair.”

“She's right there!” Apt insisted, pointing again.

“Huh? But her hair is golden blond. What are you saying?”

“Not her! That’s Cheer! She’s Diligence’s natural daughter. That other girl.”

I looked back at the group on the road again, “What other girl?”

“The one… wearing pants.” Apt’s voice fell quiet, muffled by a sense of shame.

“Oh! I see! Hmm…” Even I was embarrassed. Girls don’t wear pants. It was an affront against nature and common decency! Furthermore, the girl I’d mistaken for a boy had her hair cut short, not even reaching her collar. I would have never guessed her sex without being told. On the other hand, she did indeed have very dark hair. As she got closer, I agreed you couldn’t really call it anything except black. Furthermore, her face was just… weird. It was thin and pale, with sharp edges and a tiny jaw.

When I went on a campaign, I’d fought against the northern plainsmen. They were naturally tan all over their whole body as if they’d spent their whole life naked in the sun. They also had broad faces and large teeth. It only took a glance to see that this girl was something different. She was strange, exotic, and looked impossibly fragile. I had no idea where such a person would come from.

At a guess, based on her height, she was about two hands old, maybe more, maybe less. She’d need three hands to be considered a woman, so she was young, but not really a child either.

The worst part was the way she glared back at me. I hadn’t even said anything, but she’d apparently singled me out as her enemy and opponent. When I looked toward Apt, he was skittering away as if something terrible was about to happen.

Wait a second! He’d said she was a mage, right? In practice, a warmage dons armor to fight on the front lines. But, in the legends, a powerful magician had such control of the winds and stars that they could call down lightning. In fact, weren’t there some really vengeful women magicians in the old tales? I felt the hairs of my neck prickling up as she approached. Suddenly, this seemed like a dumb way to die.

Honey, sensing my change of mood, moved around to support me and stomped her front hoof as if preparing for battle. At the same time, I noticed that my hand had fallen to rest on the pommel of my sword. Realizing I’d best appear confident, I moved both hands to the sides of my belt instead.

While the family was still far out of reach, the mother bowed down to me face first on the dirt. That was indeed a good start. The woman obviously had some sense. Apt said that her name was Diligence? The son and the daughter quickly followed suit, but the foreign girl stopped to stare at the others in confusion. Then, she turned her gaze back to me, and narrowed her eyes angrily.

I wasn’t sure what to do, but then Diligence reached up and grabbed the back of the girl’s head and shoved her down hard to match with the others. I could hear a small cry of surprise, then a smack as her face was stuffed into the dirt. That was followed by some indignant burbling and whining.

From behind me, I could hear the butcher give out a deep laugh, followed by several others. After a few moments, I matched it with a smile. The danger of an imminent confrontation melted away. If a serf woman could do that to the supposed mage, then the girl wasn’t actually dangerous.

At least, that was my thought for the moment.