Valiant Valerie (the Ballad of Valerie of Mor Book 1)

Chapter Sixteen

Valerie watched Jonathan out of the corner of her eye, trying to take her mind off the jolting in her ribs. Nothing about him suggested he had a festering wound, except every now and then Valerie thought she saw a very slight wince.

"Manon!" she said, as her horse stumbled slightly.

"You named her then?" Jonathan looked over.

"Yes, finally. Do you like it?"

"It's a fine name for a horse." He leant forward and patted Perry. "Though nothing beats 'Perry', does it?" Perry whickered and Jonathan smiled.

They had been riding for a few hours, taking a slow pace. Getting Valerie on Manon had been a bit of an adventure in itself. But on the whole, Valerie found that Manon was a delicate horse and seemed to be able to tell her rider was injured. Except for the occasional stumble. Valerie decided it must be like when you are trying to be really quiet and end up crashing into the loudest thing in the room. So it was that Manon was trying very hard to walk gently that she occasionally stood on a rock or something that made her unsteady for a moment.

The morning passed in relative comfort and pleasantness. Jonathan talked very little and Valerie found herself tiring quickly, though she did not want to show it. Jonathan made them stop for an extended lunch, then the afternoon passed in much the same way as the morning until Jonathan called a halt for the night.

About halfway through the afternoon, their path began sloping downwards, ever so slightly. Valerie was not sure if this made things more or less easy going, but Perry and Manon seemed less fatigued.

At least someone is faring better, she thought to herself.

The next few days were a blur of sameness and of peaceful boredom. Nothing attacked them, they sustained no more injuries and they were able to stay somewhat clean. Valerie was feeling better with each day that passed and, though Jonathan talked more with each day that passed, he also began to take on a paler complexion. Valerie continued to say nothing and pretend she had never seen his wound.

So it was that they came to a small village at the base of the mountain. The village was pleasant enough and looked well-tended. At first glance, there was no one around. But as Valerie looked closer, there were faces at windows and curtains rustling.

"What is this place?" Valerie hissed to Jonathan.

"I'm not sure. I don't remember seeing it on any maps..." He looked around him.

As they walked down the street, they passed a large, lavishly decorated house. From inside, Valerie could hear yelling. She looked at Jonathan and he nodded.

Valerie swung down from Manon's back. She watched to see how Jonathan dismounted. He seemed as nimble and elegant as usual. Valerie wished she knew how he hid his pain.

Outside the house, there was a trough and halter post so Valerie and Jonathan tied Perry's and Manon's reins to it before going up to the front door.

Jonathan knocked, though Valerie thought it was a rather pathetic excuse for a knock. When no one answered – as if they were going to hear it over the racket coming from the house – Jonathan pushed his way inside and Valerie followed.

The inside of the house was just as lovely outside. The walls were made from polished wood, there were red carpets adorning the floor, candelabras hung from the ceiling, and there were gilt picture frames along the hall. The shouting seemed to be coming from behind a door on the right. Valerie stuck close behind Jonathan as he opened it.

Warmth crashed over her – quite unnecessary for a summer's day, Valerie thought – and the shouting grew louder. Inside the room were four men. Two were dressed sumptuously, though one better than the other. This one had a great medallion hanging at his chest from a thick band of material. The other two looked like farmers, or trappers. It seemed each pair were squaring off against the other.