The Unsuspecting Mage - Brian S. Pratt [51]
The wagon is being driven by a young lady who looks to be about sixteen. Next to her on the seat is an older man, most likely her father. As James pulls abreast of the wagon, the lady greets him, “Good day to you sir.”
Smiling his most charming smile, he replies, “And a nice day to you too ma’am.”
The man looks him up and down, his expression seeming to suggest that he finds James somewhat lacking. He nods a greeting but doesn’t say anything.
“Where are you bound?” the lady asks him.
“South to Bearn, then perhaps to the coast,” he replies. “By the way, my name is James.” He gives her a slight bow.
“I am called Celienda,” she responds. Gesturing to the man next to her she adds, “This is my father Meredith.”
Bowing slightly, this time to her father, he gives his respect. “Are you heading to Bearn?” James asks.
“Oh, yes. Our home is there but we transport goods to various towns, depending on the markets.”
“Could you perhaps tell me of a good inn where I might stay while I am there? I have never before been to Bearn,” he explains.
Thinking a bit, she says “The Flying Swan is good and well priced. The owner is a friend of mine by the name of Jillian. If you should stay there, tell him Celienda sends her wishes.”
“I will, and thank you for your help. Maybe we’ll run into each other while I am there?” suggests James with a grin. Her father gives him a cold look when he hears that.
“You never know,” responds Celienda with a cheerful smile.
Giving them another slight bow, he says, “May your travels be both profitable and safe.” He speeds his horse up to a canter and begins pulling away from the caravan.
“Fare you well, James,” he can hear Celienda call after him. It doesn’t take long before he’s out distanced them.
When the sun reaches its apex in the sky, James stops to let his horse graze while he has a bite to eat. Finding a shady spot not far from the banks of the river, he removes the sack Mary gave him and settles against the bole of a tree.
His posterior has been complaining for the last hour from having to sit in the saddle, but he’ll just have to get used to the rigors of being in the saddle all day. In this world, it seems to be the preferred mode of transportation.
While he eats, he thinks how peaceful and calm it is there by the river. Pulling the medallion from beneath his shirt, he again contemplates the design upon its face. Questions and still more questions with very few answers. Sighing, he replaces it beneath his shirt and finishes his meal.
The rest of the afternoon is pretty much a repeat of the morning, except that the pain in his bottom grows more pronounced as the day wears on. When the sun is but an hour away from dipping below the horizon, several buildings appear in the distance ahead. Two appear to be houses or storage sheds while a third stands two stories tall with smoke coming out of the chimney. Another long building sits behind it.
As he draws closer he makes out a sign depicting a river turning a bend hanging in front of the large, two story building. Must be an inn, he thinks to himself. Since night is quickly approaching, he figures this would be a good spot to stop for the night. Coming to the inn, he ties his horse to the hitching post in front then enters.
The smell of unwashed bodies and smoke hits James like a wall, taking his breath away. His eyes start to water and can barely breathe. Standing there for a second, he slowly acclimates to the stench. Looking around he notices several tables in the common area, only one which is currently unoccupied, and a long bar along one wall. A stairway at the rear of the room climbs to the second floor.
Fortunately the unoccupied table is near an open window. Taking a seat enabling him to sit with his back to the wall so he can see the entire common room, James gets comfortable. Leaning his head back against the wall near the window for the fresh