Turn Me Back!

Episode 5 - A Generosity of Coins

The trip back to Druinberg is the most endlessly boring thing I've ever experienced in my fairly vast experience of being bored.

I keep trying to make the horses go faster but they are stubborn bastards and obey only when it suits them. At one point I explode with fury and stand on the wagon seat waving my arms and screaming insults at them. Both horses cast scornful looks over their shoulders and carry on walking at the same sedate pace.

After several million, billion years, we finally reach the area around Druinberg and things start to look up. Either the horses recognise their surroundings or simply decide they're in the mood for a gallop. "Why couldn't you have gone this fast the whole way back?" I grumble, lying flat on the wagon seat and hanging on for dear life. With my face pressed against the wood, I have a superb view of the reins, which are dragging gaily through the mud as we go.

With these circumstances in mind, one can hardly blame the townspeople of Druinberg for their reaction to what looked like a runaway cart bearing a terrified child. People shriek and yell in surprise, diving out of the way and snatching their animals and wares to safety as we careen at a breakneck pace down the main street. The horses run straight through the town, giving no mind to who they trample along the way. They've decided they like this galloping thing and now they don't want to stop. The wagon swings and jolts along behind them. It must be getting battered to splinters on the cobblestones. Thank goodness it's not mine.

Once past the main market area, the horses show a sudden interest in a random side street. They veer, making a high-speed turn that has the wagon rising up onto two wheels. I cling on for dear life to avoid sliding down into the muck. Where are those bloody horses going? I suspect they haven't a clue.

Shouts and hoofbeats come from behind. Two mounted men draw level with us, riding hard to keep pace with my manic steeds. They grab the horses' bridles, forcing them to slow and eventually halt. Everything grows quiet, apart from the panting of horses and an ominous creaking from the wagon as its boards settle back into place after their ordeal.

"Thank goodness for that," I mutter, lifting my sore head from the seat where I've surely left an imprint of my face. Even my armpits feel bruised.

My heroic rescuers are puffed up with pride over having stopped the runaway wagon and don't seem inclined to leave. It takes a hell of a lot of talking and finally some tears to get rid of them. Just my luck to be saved by the chivalric, honourable kind of men who are constitutionally incapable of just pissing off and leaving an unaccompanied child to her own damn business. By a stroke of luck, we've ended up a few yards from the inn where Fell wanted me to leave his wagon. In the end I have to go there and bribe one of the serving maids who comes out and explains how I'm 'expected' here and that my parents 'will be along any minute'. The two heroes still wear doubtful expressions until she holds out the coins I've given her to pass on to them. Then they hustle right along. Just goes to show, there's no such thing as selfless gallantry.

No selfless gallantry from greedy serving maids either. She recognised a good blackmailing opportunity when she saw one. Suddenly my pile of money is a good few coins smaller. If this causes the witch to reject my plea I'm going to hunt down all three of those greedy bastards and force-feed them their own bribes.

Since I've now got a serving maid on retainer, I tell her to prepare a room for me. But long before it's ready, I'm hurrying out of the inn and into the streets of Druinberg. I have an important errand to run...

This time when I bang on the witch's door, she doesn't even bother opening it. I hear her muffled voice from inside. "This establishment only serves people who are tall enough to reach the bell." I pound with my fist and yell a few curses through the door but the only response I get is the familiar sound of her cackling.