Euphemistically Yours

When Constance nudged me awake in the morning, it was still dark outside. I’d known this was going to happen, so I wasn’t surprised. Even so, seeing her bright and cheery face just made me more grumpy. She did this EVERY morning?

I slid into my clothing and armor, then stumbled down the hall to thump on Grit’s door. All I heard from inside was a moan. He was at that age where he needed more sleep. Too bad for him. We had a job to do - and I wanted it done before another disaster could strike.

Thinking of the most imminent catastrophe, I belted on both my arming sword and shorter secondary blade, then grabbed my spear from its peg on the wall. I’d be vulnerable out there alone on the road, but nobody attacks a man that’s armed to the teeth.

I had no intention of waking Swift, so I tiptoed past her room. She had asked that I let her tell the mules farewell - and probably give them parting treats. However, I had no desire to see her crying. She could do that later after I was already gone. Besides, that whole process would slow me down. Furthermore, since she shared the bedroom with Eu, if I woke one, it would wake the other.

In the kitchen, Constance had already let our helpers in through the back door and taken charge of breakfast preparations. As I passed, she squeezed a blob of raw dough into my hand. It wasn’t appetizing, but it was food - and far better than some of the rations I’d eaten on campaigns.

In front of the stables, the four lookouts the headman had picked were standing and shaking their feet to stay awake. This was the worst part of the night watch - the last bell before sunrise. They were tired and sleepy, but the twilight actually made it more difficult to see properly. The half-lit skies combined with a whole day’s weariness could trick your eyes.

“Thank you for your service.” I handed each one of them a coin, a tin star, from my belt pouch. Normally, I didn’t reward my night watch, but this was a special case. I'd promised something yesterday. Besides, a tin star wasn’t really significant. It was the smallest coin, a thin sliver of misshapen metal - valued the same as a bell’s unskilled labor.

Inside the stables, the horses were already awake. If they’d slept out in the paddock, they’d already be active at this hour, but since they were indoors, they adjusted to our schedule. Unfortunately, just because they were awake didn’t mean that they were ready to travel.

HandEater gave an angry grunt when he saw that I was preparing his saddle, but I just grunted back at him. He was my horse now, so he’d need to learn some respect.

“Father, should I put lead lines onto the mules?” Grit arrived with questions on his lips, but armed and armored. He had his arming sword belted on like mine, though only his gambeson and jack for protection since we couldn’t afford a hauberk yet - especially since he was still growing.

“That’s a good question.” I rubbed at my beard. The mules were normally well behaved, and horses stick together by instinct. Furthermore, it would be less troublesome to just let them follow me. Really, a lead line wouldn’t make a bit of difference if there was trouble waiting for me.

Unfortunately, HandEater was stomping his feet and snorting at the two mules. Apparently, he didn’t want to be seen in the company of anything less than a horse. In return, the two mules would be reluctant to move as with him as a group. “Grit, You’ve got the right idea. Let’s give them some lead lines. It’s more effort, but it can’t hurt.”

HandEater's saddle went on first, then the belts and straps. If I expected to charge into an enemy formation, I could layer Honey's cloth barding on top, but that didn’t match today’s needs - it would just slow me down. Besides, the barding was sized for a charger. It would look floppy and foolish on a pony. It might even drag on the ground.

My helmet was set onto the horn of the saddle, with the mules' lead lines knotted on underneath. Once I was mounted, my spear would sit on the lance rest, a wooden bracket attached to the side of my saddle.

Judging that everything was ready to go, I paused to give Grit some last minute advice. “Eu will need to ‘fwoof’ her sand. She does it every morning. But, there might be observers watching the house. Keep her inside and … let her do her magic in her bedroom. That'll be fine until this blows over.”

“Yes, Father. I understand.”

Before leaving, I kissed both of his ears, then held out my hands to him, facing upwards. In response, he clasped them from above. This was both the greeting and farewell of comrades in arms. “Stay safe. Don’t let your sisters do anything foolish.”

“Yes, Father.”

With those last words, I mounted up into the saddle, pulled up my spear, then squeezed HandEater’s flanks with my knees. With no sign of trouble, we trotted away. The two mules followed eagerly behind. They could see the rope lines leading from their bridles to my saddle and they were smart enough to see what would happen if they strayed.

Obviously, HandEater couldn’t keep this pace the whole way there, especially considering the weight of my weapons and armor. Once we’d reached the road, I slowed us down to an easier walk. The morning fog lifted not long after that and the view of the surrounding countryside opened up to me.

I breathed a sigh of relief. There was nobody else on the road at this hour. Pilgrims would sleep later. Merchants would just now be leaving town. In contrast, hunters and wardens would already be in their favorite spots, hard at work.

Since I was on high alert, every single sound caught my attention, but there was really nothing to see. From my years on campaign, I knew not to wear myself out, so I let my horses do the work. They had six eyes… well… five, compared to my own two. Furthermore, their ears were flickering back and forth, doing their best to “see” everything in all directions at once.

The morning remained quiet during the trip, and after a couple bells, I could see the horse merchant’s yard ahead of me. With the sun high and fair weather, business had already started in earnest. In fact, I could see a group of traveling horse traders at the head of the queue haggling with the owner. Normally, with my status, I could have pushed my way to the front, but several of them were finely dressed, and I suspected them to be representing the interests of various local nobles.

“Are you selling those mules?” Another traveler asked as I sat waiting. He rode up and took the spot behind me in line.

Before answering, I looked him over. He was an elderly clergyman, riding in on an old mule. His beard was sparse and white, and he only had a few hairs left on his wrinkled head. “Sorry, friend. These are already sold. I’m just making the delivery. If you’re buying, you’ll need to bargain with the owner at the front.”

He returned my regret with a laugh. “Too bad, but I’m not buying. Not in this market! In fact, I’m thinking of selling my old mule, Fool, here. Interested?”

“You named your mule Fool?”

He had a lopsided smirk to fit his sense of humor. “Of course! Fool the Mule! It rhymes!”

“That it does, but… seriously?”

“You think it’s rude?”

“Especially for a man of the cloth!” Giving him another look, he clearly wasn’t ranked highly within his order. His habit was simple cloth with only the most basic ornamentation to identify his calling. Even so, the two of us moved in different circles. If we were standing, I wasn’t sure whether I should kneel to him or the other way around.

He shrugged. “You worry too much. Nobody cares what I name my mule.”

“He cares!” I pointed with my thumb.

“My mule?” He chuckled. “If he cares a whit, then he fits his name better than I thought.”

With that, our conversation seemed to be done, but the man nudged his mule closer. “What about your horse .. err, pony though? You must be here to buy something bigger? From your armor, I’m guessing you’re a squire, but I’ve never seen an uglier mount.”

HandEater puffed out his chest and held his tail higher. In response, I patted him on the neck. “This here is my steed of debatable nobility. He may look like a mess, but you haven’t seen him in a fight.”

Of course, I hadn’t actually seen him fight either, but it wasn’t an actual lie. I could imagine it well enough. Regardless, I got the response I wanted when the clergyman waved his hands. “No, it chills my bones just to think about it! I'm not an idiot! I wouldn't want to see anyone tangle with him! But, isn’t he kind of … small?”

HandEater huffed loudly and turned to avenge himself by nipping at the old man’s mule, but he was too slow. I pulled his head back around with the reins to face the front. “He may be a pony, but he’s strong and smart. He’s the perfect warhorse.”

The man nodded, looking doubtful, but then looked up when the line moved forward. “It won't be very long now. So, what’s your name and who do you serve?”

“Free Squire Deft. I’m in service directly to the Duke. You?”

“I'm a wandering friar. My name is Wisdom. That’s why I named my friend here Fool.”

“Wisdom’s Fool?” I laughed and turned to look the mule in the eye. “You poor thing! You have a vicious clown for an owner. I'll bet you’ll be glad when you're sold!”

The mule didn’t even acknowledge my words. He just stood solid, waiting for his turn in line.

When the queue moved again, the old clergyman turned his mule sideways to face the open road. “We’ve almost reached the front, but I’m thinking you’ve convinced me not to sell.”

“What? How? Why?” I almost felt guilty. What had I said?

“What would this old Fool do without me?” He stroked the mule's mane and chuckled at his own joke.

“You came all this way just to change your mind? Hahaha! Who’s the fool now?”

He gave me a wave as he set off at a trot. “That is yet to be seen.”

“Huh?” At first, I was mystified by his response, but then, I saw the sneer and the twinkle in the old man's eye.

It only took a moment for me to realize what that must mean. He was one of those mercenaries, here in disguise! He was probably watching my actions, waiting to see how much time I would lose here. If I had been quicker, he would have delayed me somehow? That meant his comrades were probably attacking my home right now!

I kneed HandEater hard in the flanks, making him rear up in surprise. I desperately needed to chase after the old man, but there was no way I could catch him. I was heavily armed and armored on a pony, while he was traveling light, even if it was on a mule. Furthermore, my two mules were still on their lead lines. If I chased after the man, my mules would only slow me down. But, I couldn’t just leave them here ... or could I?

Without a thought for my status, I charged forward through the line, stopping at the owner's booth. The various merchants scattered out of my way when I pulled up my spear from its lance rest. At the same moment, I drew my dagger with my left hand. From all signs, I’d just declared war.

The owner stood quivering in front of me, mouth gaping open. However, he wasn’t my target. Instead, I only needed to communicate my intent, shouting loudly for all to hear. “THIS IS MY PAYMENT FROM YESTERDAY! THAT SCOUNDREL THAT JUST RODE AWAY IS A BANDIT AND A VILLAIN AND I”M RIDING HIM DOWN!”

With that, I used the dagger to cut the lead lines on my mules, then wheeled about to give chase. At least, that was my thought. After only a few steps, I realized that the disguised clergyman was riding hard, but at the crossroads, he'd turned away in the opposite direction from the path to my home. In other words, I had to choose between him and my family.

The answer to that question was obvious, and so the old charlatan would get away. I could only glare at him and his mule's backside as he fled.

HandEater’s head turned eagerly toward home, so I leaned down to speak into his good ear. “You think you’re bad? Let’s see how fast you can go!”