A pursuit of valour
London, early morning...
Baldric emerged out of an inn. He had been drinking the entire eve and then the night. The previous amorous escapade in Normandy with the Baron's daughter had been a disaster. He had been humiliated and for the first time, the crusader had to flee for his life. He had arrived in England all right, but had no shelter, no purpose. Just trinkets from the crusade.
What he desired was the glory of riding with knights, lords to war, and to victory. But presently, he had to be content wandering the streets of London, riding on his two legs, a stagger in place of a gait.
He wondered what the future road might lead?