Part 23 of Rob Donovan’s free serialised story set in the same world of Frindoth as his newly released book “Ritual of the Stones”. In this story we follow the journey of Pewtory the Lesser bard as he travels to Lilyon to witness the Ritual.
Pewtory the Lesser Bard part 23 – Remorse
As the morning mist crept down from the graveyard on the hill, slowly encroaching on the field, the Bard was reminded that whenever things appeared to be perfect, there was always the ominous shadow of doom lingering close by.
Pewtory shuddered as he studied the elderly couple. He watched the woman slump in the saddle her shoulders hunched as her husband ambled along beside her. The image was both heart-warming and saddening.
His life had been good up until Gandara. His act was as close to perfection as it could be and he was starting to get noticed. In some towns they had heard of him when he introduced himself. His past had been laid to rest and things were taking an upward swing.
But then came the stranger with his threat and his world had turned upside down, from promising performer to potential murderer in a matter of weeks. He thought of Archie’s prone body back in the room in Compton. He was not sure if he had killed the Peddler or not. He had been too scared to check for a pulse, as he saw a mixture of blood and whiskey soak into the floorboards.
In a panic he had gathered his possessions and fled. His mind was a blur. He retained only fleeting images of the scene: Willow and Wisp circling their bowl in frantic distress; the crunch of glass underfoot like crisp snow and the Peddler’s sword still in its scabbard, for Archie had never unsheathed it. It was that fact more than anything else that haunted Pewtory. Despite provoking the bard to action, it had not occurred to the peddler to use the weapon on Pewtory despite Archie’s uncertainty, despite his fear.
“What’s done is done,” Pewtory said to himself. He looked over his shoulder half expecting to see a group of soldiers in pursuit. If he had killed Archie Freestone then they would be after him for murder, if he hadn’t then Archie would have told them all by now and they would be after him all the same.
Pewtory realised that unlike when he fled Jitsuam farm, he no longer cared if he was hunted down. What mattered now was Elsie Brookman, the old lady hunched on the horse ahead of him.
Finding her had not been difficult, when he had entered the bar on his way out, the folk were full of stories of the old lady leaving town earlier that morning. It was old news to the people of Compton. Now their attention had turned to speculating who the other two stoneholders were in their town. Many suggested the Mayor had received a stone, as he had left with his wife shortly after Elsie proclaiming he was leaving to support her. Pewtory had pursued Elsie and her husband for a whole day however and seen no sign of the Mayor.
Elsie and her husband left the meadow and disappeared into the woods, swallowed by the thick trunks and foliage. He lingered a little while longer, reluctant to leave the beautiful scenery behind before following the couple. One day, if he made it through this mess and earned his fortune, he would build a house in a location like this, away from any graveyards of course.
Elsie and her husband travelled for another hour before the stopped to set up camp for the night. Pewtory was surprised that they were prepared to sleep outside at their age. If Pewtory was in their position and might be facing his last days, he would have spent all his money on the nicest inns the towns between here and Lilyon had to offer.
As he saw the couple set up camp with a practiced efficiency it was clear they were no strangers to camping outdoors. The pair worked well together, each performing functions without having to second case the other. The husband may have appeared feeble but he demonstrated little difficulty in assembling the shelter, whilst Elsie rubbed down their horse and then concentrated igniting a fire and laying out their food.
Despite their perfunctory actions, there was a touching tenderness shared between the pair of them. They hardly exchanged any words but were comfortable in each other’s company. Occasionally the husband would squeeze Elsie’s shoulder or give her a light peck on the cheek and they would both giggle.
Pewtory felt a little guilty at witnessing the scene. Although the was nothing lurid or physical in their actions, the display was a demonstration of love at its most pure and he was not worthy to be part of such a beautiful thing. He wondered what it would be like to have a partner that shared that amount of love with him. Someone who was comfortable in his company and knew instinctively what he was feeling and did not judge him for it.
The bard had planned to leave the two alone for the night and follow them in the morning, but as the two settled down with the aroma of their food sizzling by the fire, he found he could not resist joining them.
“Good evening,” Pewtory said.
Both Elsie and her husband jumped in alarm. The husband was on his feet with a polished sword in his hand in seconds, moving far more spritely than Pewtory would have imagined.
Although the man’s leg trembled slightly, the hand that grasped the sword was as firm as stone. The steely look in the man’s eyes also warned Pewtory that the husband was familiar with using the weapon.
“Who are you?” he said. He was well spoken, pronouncing every syllable clearly. A former soldier of the King perhaps? Pewtory held his palms aloft to indicate he meant no harm.
“I am travelling through that is all. I was about to set up my own camp, when I saw your fire. I wondered if you felt like sharing your warmth, it seems silly to light another fire only fifty yards away. We can protect each other.”
The old man glanced at Elsie who shrugged her response.
“We have only enough food for us,” Mr Brookman said.
“I have my own,” Pewtory said and lifted the staff and satchel to proof his point.
“We are only resting for a few hours. We are heading to Boscalt and need to be there by tomorrow afternoon.”
“What a coincidence that is exactly where I am heading,” Pewtory said and grinned as he tried to erase the image of the happy couple he had only just witnessed.
