A fair maiden

[m_1512]

Baldric traveled to his once family stronghold, Évreux. He stopped by a cottage for some bread and water. And then, he sights a fair maiden riding a horse and escorted by guards.

His curiosity is piqued. Who could she be? And how best to approach with the guards around?

[Stildawn]

A mounted guard reins in his horse in a whirlwind of dust at the cottage enterance, his stern eyes peer down towards Baldric through the slits in his helmet. As he blocks the path the maiden canters past.

[m_1512]

This show amuses Baldric instead of aggravating. He throws of his cloak to show his crusader tunic with his sword. He climbs his horse, giving a few coins to the lady who served the food.

He trots his horse towards the guard and says in a drawling voice.

Charming day isn't it, my good man? But why are we such grave on so charming a day?

All the while his left hand rests on the sword hilt.

[Dirty Chai]

Another of the mounted guards rode up, this one larger.

From behind his Norman visor, he slurred out the rough Contentin accent of Norman French.
"We don't like your eyes, crusader." He said that last word as if it was a lie, a farce.

[m_1512]

Baldric's lips curled into a smile, but he was still calm with his left hand lightly resting on the hilt.

And pray tell me my good man, what issue could you have with green eyes?

He brushes a few leaves that fell on his left shoulder with his right hand.

And I do not like the tone with which you say crusader. At the very least, I can say that I have done something. While you ate porridge in front of your comfortable fires, I fought for Christendom in the deserts of holy land. The lands whose heat was fiercer that the fires in your abodes. I was a prisoner for two years, while you enjoyed freedom and even showed it to others happily.

He takes a deep breath.

Now you tell me, guard, do you even consider yourself in the same shoes?

[Dirty Chai]

The guard sniffs, and looks at the other horsemen, a snarl hidden behind the visor, and back to Balric.

The leader of the mounted party stops and turns, calling the two guards back to the group which was now a ways down the road.

The quarrelsome guard looks at Baldric one last time, his eyes glaring at him through the slits, and then turns his horse around, kicking dirt into the air all around them and rides off.

[m_1512]

Baldric straightens up on his horse.

Is this betrothal according to her wishes?

[Dirty Chai]

He simply stares dumbly for a few moments, unsure of the manner of the question.

"The Lord of Cherbourg betrothed her to our lord Baron of Falaise just last month."

[m_1512]

Baldric dismounts, smiling gently.

So tell me, what is this man Baron de Falaise like? How would he react if I challenged him to a duel?

[Dirty Chai]

"The Baron is an honorable man. Why would you duel him?"

[m_1512]

Baldric looks at him.

For the lady's hand. But how do I know for sure?

He observes a young bard hovering nearby.

You there, my good man. Come here would you?

[Dirty Chai]

The singer in question happened to be just waking up from a heavy night of drinking in the nearby village's inn, singing songs about Rollo and Guillaume Longue-Épée.

His eyes widened when Baldric called for him, and he looked around as if expecting some other bard behind him.

He looked back to the crusader, and pointed at himself in question.

[m_1512]

Baldric nodded.

Yes, you. Come here, I might have a task for you and you might earn some money.

He turns to the headman.

Thank you for your hospitality. Although, I cannot help but notice that your chapel lacks an altar. So, here is a humble gift from me.

He pulls a large gold crucifix, usually that is held during ceremonies.

I found this in the holy land. Perhaps, it is better off here among honest villagers than corrupt royals.

[Dirty Chai]

The headman gazes at the treasure in his hands, immediately thinking of which abbey would pay the most for it.
"Thank you sir! Oh thank you!"

The bard hovers over to Baldric, scratching his behind, eyeing the golden crucifix.
"Reward you say?"

[m_1512]

Baldric stares sternly at the headman.

And mind you that it stays in your chapel. It will raise your villager's spirits and would bring more travellers here. Give it to someone else, you will give away prosperity for mere trinkets.

He turns to the bard.

Yes, reward. I am the Marshal of Baron de Clare of Rouen. And I can pay you well, as I am of generous disposition.

He throws a small purse at him.

Go buy a horse and come here. And stay away from drink.

[m_1512]

Baldric kept his face set, biting a retort.

I am going to challenge that man to a duel for the lady's hand. And if he does not accept, I will attack him with an army. If you help me in the latter, a quarter of that man's personal treasures to you.

[Dirty Chai]

He gulped, remembering his days in Rouen's smelly cells and the vengeful baron, laughing, laughing... laughing...

He rode ahead suddenly, after the maiden, a petrified look on his face.

[m_1512]

Badric seemed bewildered. He rode up to him, his right hand gripping his sword.

What are you doing? You must approach here in an inn. In the open, you will be cut down by the guards.

[Dirty Chai]

He smiles hesitantly.

"Ah, of course."

[m_1512]

They ride for an hour and see them entering an inn. Baldric turns to him.

Right, I'll distract the guards and you can enter from the back.

He enters the inn and walks to the guards.

Greetings gentlemen. What do you say we forget our spat some time ago and have some drinks? I will pay.

Baldric pulls out a purse.