Carack

Ch2 p2

The inn had a dark low ceiling, which bowed, and had more beams in it than Gerent thought could be necessary. From the beams hung lanterns, that glowed a low, yellow, warm light and there were hooks that suspended dried flowers and strips of what looked like bacon. Smoke from the pipes of the comrades in the inn curled along the ceiling and formed a smoky fog above their heads. The whole place smelt of a mix of ale, tobacco and ham. Somehow it was a comforting smell. The people themselves were dressed largely as Wampa was dressed. Everyone seemed to be of a similar type. The woman wore long dresses and aprons. No one looked as though they had much money, except for the man beside him.  

Wampa had rejoined a group at the bar and was regaling them with stories of the castle and Gerent’s expected arrival there. The man sat opposite him followed his gaze. He snorted.

‘He ist a fool. Why did the Lord Madron send him to guide thee, I wonder? As thou art destined to save the land from evil why wast not a more fitting escort arranged for thee?’

Gerent studied at the man, he was dark skinned and had black, close-cropped hair. His eyes were brown, the whites were bright and clear. He had an open face that looked wise and trustworthy. His long legs were stretched out before him under the table and around his legs he had wrapped the ends of the long the blue cloak that draped from his shoulders. He smiled at Gerent as he caught his gaze and lowered his tankard.

‘Since I have the honour to know thy name my lord Hugh, I will tell thee mine. I am called N’zim; I was once the commander of the guard at the castle. But I fell from my lord Madron’s favour as I queried some of his orders. I was then given the stewardship of Northern Evells, a challenging role as thou canst see.’ He laughed and swept his arm around the room. ‘My brother is still in the Lord Madron’s army and my mother and sister dwell just outside the castle walls. So, I remain here, where I cannot cause disruption and yet am still under scrutiny.’ He leaned forward. ‘We are watched,’ he said, ‘Wampa dare not interrupt but I have no doubt the lord Madron will be informed of our meeting and he will want to know what passed between us. I hope that thou art he who was fore told, thou hast arrived on the appointed day and this land is in sore need of thee. When thou art at the castle, do you seek out my brother and-’ he was cut off by the arrival of Minier who took away Gerent’s empty plate, giving him a warm smile as she did so.

At this point, the outer door was opened and a farmer entered the inn, bowed forward under a damp hessian sack that he had spread across his neck and shoulders for want of a coat or cloak. He looked wet but not drenched. He pulled off his sodden hat, straightened up and beat it against his hand. Drops of water sprayed everywhere as he did so causing the people near him to flinch, give him bad looks and mutter. Then he dropped the sack to the floor.

‘Rain’s eased, but the tides cummin’ up! Tha’ there bridge aint goin’ to ‘old up much longer. If’n any want to cross it this night I should get goin’ now if I was you.’ He was then accepted by, and disappeared into, the fold at the bar, Gerent noticed that Wampa put down his ale and come toward him.

‘Master Hugh, I do think as how we should be getting on. Like as not we could stay here the night, but if that bridge does go we’ll not get the castle for weeks. Not till way after the flood goes down.’  He pulled at Gerent’s arm. ‘Come along Master Hugh, put on your foot coverings an us’ll be getting off.’ He picked up Gerent’s trainers and placed them by his feet. Gerent started to pull them on; they were still wet, as were his socks. It felt horrible pushing his feet into the soggy shoes and tying the damp laces.

‘This dream must end soon,’ he thought as he straightened up from pulling on his shoes. He looked to say goodbye to N’zim but the chair opposite was empty and there was no sign of him anywhere nearby. Wampa held up the thick woolly tunic top which Gerent gladly pulled on over the drying T shirt he had struggled into. He was reluctant to leave the warm fireplace, but Wampa seemed determined to go, despite his inebriated state. Gerent looked around once again for N’zim but could not see him so he followed Wampa out of the inn.

Outside in the muddy road a small lad was holding the two horses ready. The rain had stopped but everything smelt damp and the air was full of the sound of dripping. Water ran off roofs and pattered on the grass as it fell from leaves of the tall trees. It was evening now, what little light the heavy covering of cloud allowed through was quickly disappearing. Wampa urged Gerent to mount. Gerent was reluctant to do so after his previous experience but Wampa pressed the necessity of crossing the river before the bridge gave out So Gerent got on with reluctance. Wampa then took and kept hold of the reins of Gerent’s horse. With Wampa leading him in this manner they left the inn behind and headed southward along the muddy lane.