Chapter 2
It had taken a couple of hours to drag her father back to the front of the cathedral. She had taken off his armor and set it alongside his shield and sword, exposing the gray wool garments he wore underneath. It was bad enough that his six-foot-frame weight around 185 pounds, but the armor was another matter. It appeared that the spell that made the gear lighter only worked when he was conscious, because the armor would have added an extra 75 pounds alone. It also startled her when it turned into a steel rock with his sword protruding from it. Almost as if it turned itself into a decorative piece in the library. But no matter what she did, it wouldn’t budge and the sword wouldn’t come out. She hated to leave his gear behind, but she had no choice. They would have to come back for it when her father was awake.
If he woke up.
But even if she wanted to go back and retrieve the gear, she feared that time was of the essence. She needed to travel 300 miles inland to the Wizard’s College in Madrid, the capital of Murcia. Such a journey would take at least 10 days on horseback. However, that would mean it would take at least 10 days one way, how many days it would take to find a cure, and then another 10 days to ride back. And while she didn’t want to do it, she realized that it would be faster to travel on her own.
If she remembered correctly, there was an inn about 15 miles to the north along the coast that was still open for business. It was in the wrong direction, but she didn’t have much choice. She would have to leave her father there and move as quickly as possible to reach Madrid. It was a risk to leave him in the care of someone else, but she had no choice.
Across the cobble-stoned road was the remnants of a livery stable. While coming up with a course of action, she quickly ran to the burned out stable where their horses had been left before heading to the cathedral. Half the roof still remained and there were a few serviceable stalls in it where she and her father had left the horses. She entered the stables and first walked over to her smaller horse, Barb. It was a rouncey used for light cavalry, messengers, and scouts because it was fast, agile, and had a lot of stamina. But Barb had a nasty streak to her. While a beautiful black horse with white feet and about 14 hands high, she would get real mean in a fight, constantly biting and kicking at anything around her. If she focused on you, there was no way you would get rid of her easily, just like a barb.
Barb whinnied a greeting as Laura entered the stable, accepting a pat on the head with affection. Checking to make sure that the saddle was still secure, along with the spear, bedroll, food, waterskin, and her travel pack she led the rouncey over to the next stable. As she approached it, Laura braced herself as if going into a fight. Her father’s white stallion was a true-bred destrier. A large, white warhorse that was 16 hands tall with powerful hindquarters, a muscularly arched neck, slightly curved profile, and a thick mane. Definitely a horse that would catch everyone’s eye. Her father had named the stallion Stomper and it was the most arrogant and showy son of a gob she had ever met.
There was no love lost between them.
As she approached, Stomper gave her a look of displeasure at seeing her and not his rider. But she didn’t have time for this and said, “Not today Stomper. Davian needs you.”
The horse’s ears perked up at the use of its rider’s name and he didn’t try to nip at her as she grabbed the reins. But as she started to slowly lead them away, Stomper head-butted her from behind, hard enough to sting and make her fall to the floor, as if telling her to hurry it up.
“You know,” Laura said, giving the horse a dirty look as she picked herself off the ground and quickened her pace. “One day I’m going to have the satisfaction of seeing you turned into glue. And then I am going to use all of that glue to stick your tail to the back of a donkey…” Before she could finish the rest of what she was going to say, the group had entered the courtyard to the cathedral, and Stomper ran past her, knocking her to the side as he went over to the limp form of Davian. “Because you are an Ass.” she finished.
“Like horse, like rider I guess,” she said and looked over at Barb with affection who was just patiently waiting. “At least you are a good girl.”
She walked over to her father’s body, watching as Stomper gently nudged the unconscious form. “He is not waking up Stomper, so I need you to stand still.” Laura was not looking forward to this. Already her muscles were sore from having dragged him on a makeshift stretcher to the stairs where she had to drag him all the way up. That, was pure agony.
Positioning Stomper closer to her father, she picked him up underneath his arms and, with a grunt, leaned him against the horse’s side. Her lithe muscles strained as she then lifted him up by the legs until he was draped over the back of the stallion. Quickly tying him to the saddle, she grabbed Stomper’s reins, mounted on Barb, and immediately went into a canter and out of the village, heading westward to the Inn of the Rising Sun.
*******
It was late at night, with only a quarter moon out, as Laura walked with a torch in one hand, and the horses’ reins in the other, up to the gates of a ten-foot-high wall surrounding the Inn of the Rising Sun. Travel along the road had been quiet and uneventful. The few people she had met on the road had been inclined to stay on the opposite side of the road from them. She hadn’t removed her armor, using her appearance as a way to dissuade people from interacting with her. It also hid the fact that she was a woman since her lithe figure and hooded cloak covering her didn’t make it so easy to discern that fact.
But she was tired, dirty, and needed to get her father into a bed and protected. The implications that he was not fit for duty could be catastrophic for the kingdom. Right now, the goblins hadn’t launched a serious offensive over the past 15 years. Not since their disastrous defeat at the Madridian Pass that was due to her father’s heroics. Their fear of the Goblin Slayer kept them away from Murcia while the remaining kingdoms were recovering from their own harassments from the goblins. Though there weren’t many kingdoms left that hadn’t fallen yet. However, that could change soon for Murcia. What few scouts and spies were able to return from their scouting expeditions had reported a massive buildup over the past couple of years.
“Who goes there,” a sentry challenged. He was standing on the wall next to the gate, wearing leather armor and a bow nocked and aimed at her.
“Lieutenant Fords of His Majesty’s Army,” Laura said, lying about her last name. “I have a wounded man here and need shelter for the night.”
Confused, the sentry lowered his bow and said, “Hold on Lieutenant.”
Laura could hear him climbing down from the wall, followed by the sound of running footsteps fading away into the distance. She thought it strange that she would be challenged and not given immediate entry. A couple minutes went by and the gates opened, revealing the sentry in addition to a couple of other men with bows drawn. With them was also an elderly man who was wearing an apron and holding a lantern.
“Bartholomew Bai, owner of this inn,” the elderly man introduced himself as he walked up to Laura. “Forgive the armed men, but we can’t be too careful right now. A small goblin raiding party tried to attack us a few days ago and they were aided by a goblin worshiper. So I have to ask, do you have any credentials?”
“Goblin worshipers this close to the sea,” Laura asked, surprised by that bit of news as she rummaged in her pack for her orders and then handed the papers over to the Innkeeper. Gob worshipers and sympathizers were usually found in the cities and larger towns inland. Areas that weren’t susceptible to goblin raids. They were people typically from the middle-class and rich families of the kingdom who become gob worshipers and sympathizers. It was hard to believe that anyone who lived along the coast would become a worshipper or sympathizer. Constant raiding from goblins kept the hatred for that race fresh in everyone’s mind.
As Bai read her orders which stated her name, rank, and that she had been given two weeks leave by General Ramirez, she went up to the innkeeper and whispered so that the armed guards couldn’t hear, “I need you to keep silent about who I am.”
Bai nodded, an eyebrow raised as he had seen her last name, then went over to Stomper to see who was strapped to the horse’s back. “Magnificent horse,” he said as he lifted up Davian’s head, his eyes going wide as he shone the lantern on the unconscious man’s face. “By the One,” he exclaimed and quickly started issuing orders. “Stable these horses and put this man in our best room with two guards outside his door. Noone is allowed to enter unless it is me, Lieutenant Fords, my wife, or my daughters.”
“Come with me Lieutenant,” Bai added and the two of them walked towards the three-story tall inn.
Grabbing her and her father’s packs from the horses, she followed the innkeeper. The wall surrounding the inn and a large piece of land had a ramp running along the entire wall for archers and soldiers to stand on and repel invaders. It was five feet thick, giving enough space for two men to walk along the ramparts side-by-side. Within the walls, Laura couldn’t see much in the dark. But what light was being cast from the inn, showed a large stable close to it. The sounds of cattle and chickens reached her ears, which meant there was probably a small barn or pasture.
Bai led her into the inn, which seemed to be rather quiet. Normally it would be busy since the inn was located along the Coastal Highway which saw a lot of traffic. There was also the Great Bridge about 40 miles further west. Often, smugglers and merchants looking to avoid fees, tariffs, and the long arm of the law would put in at Barbate or close to the inn where they could then ship their goods by land.
Inside, at the front of the inn, was a spacious dining area with enough tables and booths to fit a hundred people. At the moment, a dozen people were the only occupants in the dining area. With the recent raid, most people would be sticking close to their homes until the military had wiped out the raiders. Candlelit lanterns hung from the ceiling, with a large fireplace in the center. Two staircases towards the back led up to the second floor while a long bar table was at the back. There were two groups of people; six of them appeared to be guards who were off duty while the second group of five appeared to be some locals from a town that was five miles further up the coast. And then there was a solitary person, sitting off in a booth reading a book.
Upon seeing the lone occupant in the booth, she thought the sight of someone reading in the inn to be strange and out of place.
As they had entered, almost everyone had looked in their direction as Laura and the owner entered. Someone arriving at the inn this late, especially after a goblin raid, would certainly arouse curiosity. It didn’t help any that she was still wearing her armor. Everyone except the loner had looked at her with astonished expression while he had kept reading his book. Oblivious to everything around him.
The short innkeeper led her to a room behind the bar, wiping the sweat from his bald head and motioned for her to sit down as he took a seat behind a small wooden desk. With a sigh of relief, she removed her helmet and placed it in her lap as she sat down.
“Thank you sir,” Laura said, “for letting us in and quickly getting my father situated.”
“Think nothing of it,” said Bai. “ I served in the same battalion as your father, though not in the same unit, and recognized him. And call me Bart. So what happened?”
“We were hunting a Dark Wizard and he managed to overcome my father and me. Right now, I need to get to the Wizard’s College and ask them for help in curing my father. Do you have any messengers stabled here?”
“We have several.”
“I will need one of them to deliver two messages with all haste. One to General Ramirez to inform him of what has happened and the other to the college to ask the Wizard’s Council for their help.”
“Please feel free to use the supplies on my desk. I’ll see to getting a bath ready for you and something to eat when you are done in here.”
“Thank you Bart. And please keep this between us. I’m sure you know why that is important.”
“No thanks are needed. The entire kingdom owes your father for what he has done. I just hope that he recovers soon. I’m well aware of what this means should the goblins find out about his condition.”
Bart left the room, leaving Laura alone. Setting down her helm on the desk, she started undoing the latches holding the cuirass together and took it off. She rolled her shoulders. It felt good to have the extra weight off of them. She immediately started writing the letters that would be sent first thing in the morning. The first to General Ramirez to inform him of the situation and that she would need additional time off to find a cure. The second letter would go to the Prime Wizard of the council asking for his help in finding a way to remove the curse from her father.
Asking for help from the Prime Wizard was a risk. There was no love between her father and the Prime. The Prime’s desire for her father’s enchanted armor was so strong that he had even threatened her father once while trying various political avenues to get what he wanted but to no avail. Yet Laura had no choice. She knew almost nothing about magic and didn’t know any wizards or witches who could help her find out how to lift the curse.
Having finished writing the letters, she dropped some melted wax on each envelope, pulled out her father’s signet ring bearing the letters “DF” with a sword striking through the letters, and affixed his seal to the wax. She didn’t like doing this, but it would be the only way to get these letters to their recipients in a timely fashion. It had taken a lot of influence from her father to get her into the army. A decision that had been met with hostility from the majority of nobles from what she had heard. In the end, it had been the king who had allowed the request to be granted.
As she started to get up and look for her host, Barty opened the door slightly, popping his head in and said, “A bath has been prepared. Just go up to the second floor, your room is number five. I’ll also send someone up to you to collect your dirty clothes to clean them.”
He held a key for her which she took and said, “Thank you.”
“Would you like me to bring the food up to you?”
Laura considered this for a moment. She was tired, but she could use some company and, judging Barty by his age, decided that he might know something about the Vasquez family. The name her father had called the Dark Wizard “No thank you Barty, I’ll come downstairs when I’m ready.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, he left. Laura gathered her gear and went back out into the dining room area. With the stairs located in the back, she climbed up them without anyone noticing her and located her room. Opening the door, she realized that these rooms were for the rich clientele. The room was spacious and well furnished. It was set up in a way to make sure the occupant was not only comfortable, but could discuss business or entertain a small number of guests.
There was a medium-sized table that had four wooden chairs, a large couch on one side of the room, a queen-sized bed with green woolen covers, and a door leading to an adjoining bathroom. Placing her gear on the table, she quickly looked into the bathroom and saw that the small bronze bathtub had been filled with warm water. There was a selection of soap within reach of the tub, and a small wooden stool next to a brass wash basin. Grabbing her secondary outfit from her pack, and one of two breast-bands she had packed, she went into the bathroom.
Eagerly and speedily she shucked off her clothes and stepped into the tub. The water was warm and she gave a sigh of relief as it relaxed her sore and stiff muscles. She grabbed for a bar of soap, sniffed it, and repeated the process until she chose one that smelled like lavender. Feeling revived, she started lathering herself with the soap while humming a little tune. It was a song about a man who had instantly fallen in love with a woman he had seen bathing in a stream. It was a ridiculous song, but had a catchy tune.
The song was a way for her to try and stay positive. As she had struggled and strained to move her father’s unconscious body up the stairs this morning, the tears had flowed freely. Her father, the one person who had made her laugh, feel loved, and feel protected had been defeated before her eyes. Now he was in a slumber that he wouldn’t wake from and was doomed to forget everything.
A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away with a ferocious swipe. The time for tears had passed, it was a time for action and to gather information she thought to herself.
A knock on the door made her pause as she said, “Yes?”
“Lieutenant,” was the muted reply. “I’m Hannah, Barty’s wife. I’ve come to collect your clothes for washing.”
“Come in.”
A woman in her forties entered wearing a large woolen brown dress and a handkerchief hat that covered her hair, though a few strands of black hair sprinkled with some grey had escaped. She was a native Murcian with her dark hair, dark eyes, and fair complexion.
Hannah gasped in surprise and said, “You’re a woman! I thought it odd that Barty would ask me to collect your clothes. He didn’t mention that fact, so I was rather cross with him as I left the kitchen. Now it makes sense why he would ask me.”
Laura was used to this kind of reaction, there was no avoiding it since she was the first woman to serve in the kingdom’s military. She smiled politely at Hannah, “I’m sure he did it on purpose to make you think that you would be walking in on a man.”
“Estupido,” she exclaimed. “We’ll see how he likes his little joke when I see him! Making me feel embarrassed and thinking there would be a man in the bath.” In a more calm and motherly voice she addressed the young woman, “I’ll clean your clothes as quickly as I can dear. Would you like to borrow a nice dress? One of my teenage daughters is about your size.”
“Thank you, no. I have a second set of clothes that I can wear.”
Laura pointed to the clothes on the wooden stool by the bronze wash basin. The owner’s wife briefly glanced at the garments with a slight look of disapproval before she said, “Very well dear” and left.
The young woman sighed at the older woman’s reaction. She didn’t really have any problems when it came to dresses, she just preferred to wear men’s clothes. It was more practical and more comfortable in her opinion, especially since she was in the military. Having finished bathing, she quickly dried herself off, and started putting on her clothes. Her second outfit consisted of brown pants, a thick leather belt that her sword could hang from, black riding boots, the breast-band to flatten her chest a little, and a white blouse shirt. Quickly brushing her hair into a wavy pixy style, she headed down to the dining area.
She was halfway down the stairs when one of the off-duty guards glanced back towards the bar and noticed her. He did a double-take, as if he couldn’t believe what he saw, and she watched as he nudged one of the other guards next to him. A few seconds later, the rest of the table was looking at her as she kept walking down the stairs. As she reached the bottom, the second party had stopped talking as well and were staring at her. The room was suddenly silent and the only one not staring at her was the lone guy in his booth, head still stuck in a book.
Ignoring the stares and quietness of the room, she couldn’t blame them. After all, how she was dressed, her short hair, and the sword on her hip would certainly cause a commotion. It also didn’t help that she was attractive, even with the scar on her face. But it was still annoying at times. It was as if she were a freak show. But hunger drove her to the bar where Barty was cleaning a brass mug.
He gave her a smile as she sat down at one end of the bar, came over, and asked, “Ready to eat?
“I’m famished. What have you got?”
“Just the thing for you that should replenish your energy,” he said as he placed the mug on the table and threw the towel over his right shoulder. “I’ve got a pot of chik kut teh that has been simmering all day.”
“Perfect!”
Barty went through the pair of double-swing doors, leaving Laura to look around. She had chosen the end of the long bar table because it gave her a clear view of the entire room. It also meant that no one could come up from behind since she was in the corner. She noticed that the two parties had resumed their conversations though, out of the corner of her eye, she would see an occasional glance in her direction.
The doors to the kitchen opened again, revealing Barty with a tray of bowls, a teapot, and a teacup. He set it all down and simply waited. Laura looked at the food, her mouth watering from the aromas that wafted up from them. Chik kut teh was a broth with chicken and a selection of spices that was simmered for hours. She could smell the cinnamon, garlic, star anise, and a few other spices along with a slight medicinal aroma. There was also a small bowl of rice, as well as oolong tea, and a small plate of flan for dessert.
Grabbing a spoon, she quickly tasted the broth, slightly scalding her tongues in her haste to taste it. With a moan of satisfaction, she picked up the chopsticks and started to eat. She had been starving. As she devoured the food, she handed the two letters to Barty who went back into the kitchen and returned when she was almost done with the bowl of soup and rice. As she slowed down to drink some tea, she said, “Barty, how long have you been running this inn?”
“Going on thirty years, why?”
“Have you ever dealt with the Vasquez family from Barbate back then? Before the village was raided by the goblins?”
“Hard to forget that family,” Barty said as he took the time to reflect. “The Vasquez family were known for their horses and their large fishing fleet. Many was the time that Enrique de la Vasquez would stop here along the way to the Great Bridge.”
Laura’s heart stopped for a beat as she asked her next question, “Did you ever meet his son?”
Before Barty could answer, the bookworm walked up to the bar, nose still in the book. “Barty,” he said. “Could I get another bowl of the chik kut teh? Mine got a little cold.”
With a snort, Barty took the half-full bowl of soup that had congealed from the man and said, “Perhaps you should focus on eating it first rather than focusing on that book of yours.”
Looking up from his book the man, who appeared to be about her age with black hair and eyes, gave a sheepish grin and said, “I can’t help it. I love to read and when I find a book like this, I can’t stop myself.”
Laura noticed that while the man grinned, there was pain in his eyes. She wondered what had happened to him in the past to result in such a look. She then looked at the book in his hand and saw that it was titled “Magic and the Laws of Nature.” Surprised at the book’s title, she looked more closely at the man in front of her. He was a couple inches taller than her, a slight frame and he wore a light green robe over white woolen pants, and white shoes. He wasn’t really thin, just didn’t appear to have any defining muscles. Glancing over to the booth, she saw a staff of oak that had a knob at the top of it. As if it could be used to crack skulls.
While the young man waited for Barty, he finally glanced over at Laura and said, “You’re a woman!”
At this, a small huff escaped from Laura without meaning to. The man’s face reddened slightly at what he had just blurted out. “I’m sorry, I caught you out of the corner of my eye and thought you were another guard that worked here.”
Barty returned before she could reply and said, “Here you go Mel.”
Before the innkeeper could turn and go back into the kitchen Laura said, “Wait a minute Barty. You never answered my question about meeting the son.”
“That’s right,” said Barty. “I never met young Vasquez, though his father sometimes talked about him and how his son preferred to read books and study rather than learn to fight or about the family business.”
“Did you say Vasquez,” Mel asked then stammered, “I’m sorry, my name is Mel Muldoon.”
“Lieutenant Laura Fords.”
“Lieutenant,” Mel said, surprised. “You’re in the military?
“Yes.”
Once again, Mel’s face reddened as he was once more embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful Lieutenant, just never met a female soldier.”
“Quite alright,” Laura said, waving a hand dismissively. “What do you know about the Vasquez family?”
“Not much except for the son. He attended the Wizard’s College for a few years before they kicked him out.”
“How do you know this?”
“I used to attend the college myself until I was kicked out after my first year,” Mel said. “But from what I heard, he angered almost everyone with how he approached magic to the point where they banned him from the college and forbade every witch and wizard from helping him.”
“Why,” Laura asked, the spoon filled with flan suspended halfway to her mouth. “What did he do for them to go to such extremes?”
“I have no idea, no one ever talks about it.”
Frustrated, Laura started to finish the rest of her flan before the realization of what Mel could be hit her. Turning back to him she said, “Are you a wizard?”
“Technically no,” Mel replied. Seeing the look of disappointment on her face, he added, “But I was learning to be one at the college and am now self-taught. I know quite a lot because I have been reading everything I can find about magic since I was a child.”
“What do you know about curses?”
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