Fairy Tale Assassin - Chapters 2 - 5
Chapter 2A young red-haired woman stood in front of a hairy, bare-chested guy in the middle of a dark forest. I watched this scene, trying to figure out what’s really happening while hearing a name from a fairy tale. A memory of a book came to me. She can’t be Red Riding Hood. In what kind of twisted place am I? A brief urge inside me wanted to stand up and let loose a maniacal scream at the surrounding insanity. However, that idea stopped when the man dropped his pants while reaching for the woman. I glanced away to avoid the sight since I’m not into seeing another guy’s junk. The snap of a twig, followed by his yell, made me look back. “Get back h’re!” The guy tried to pull up his pants as he stumbled forward, then fell to his knees. Her red cape fluttered behind her as she ran away. I would laugh, but I’m extremely confused. That’s because I panicked when I noticed her sudden turn. She’s coming this way! When I recognized her desperate attempt, I internally rooted for her to escape. Looking at her terrified expression, a sympathetic tug dug into me. As I crouched there, conflicting thoughts fought each other for control. Having come so close to getting killed earlier, I don’t want to get involved. As she dodged the limbs in her way, the man finally got his pants up enough to sprint after her. I’m damn sure the guy is a low-life scum who deserves heavy kicks in his balls for this. Unfortunately, he’s also built like one of those action stars from the 80s. Anyone who saw my scrawny arms understood I couldn’t do much standing against him. I crouched lower while hating myself. The red-haired woman followed the path I had been on earlier.Nothing good is coming out of this encounter, but I cannot lift myself to help. Still, the footsteps and the cursing coming from the man are closing in on my position. At the last minute, I remembered stumbling on a dead limb near me. Grabbing the broken branch the size of my arm, I pushed it through the brush to intercept them. I stopped between two trees, hidden in the darkness by the animal trail. After the woman passed by me, I planned to shove the limb out in front of the woman’s pursuer. The plan is he’ll hit the ground. While I would pull back into the thicket, letting the woman disappear into the night. The plan would save both of us. However, fate screwed with me. As the woman came along when she suddenly turned between the trees where I crouched. Her knee struck me square in the face. We tumbled away from each other. Stunned, I turned over to my side, then glimpsed a dark boot next to my face. A hand grabbed me and lifted me from my spot. The crazy man’s eyes are red like a demon as his spittle splashed my face. “I’ll killeth thee!” He struck me with his backhand. The blow made my teeth rattle as I fell next to a tree. My back fell on top of my sickle weapon. As the bearded man leaned over while I struggled to pull the blade from behind my back. Pressure struck my shoulder. It burned like fire, and I yelled out in pain as the bastard laughed. Until I swung the sickle at him. “Ahhggh…” His shriek erupted as he staggered back. When I got to my knees, I noticed the gleam of his knife between us. The man held his bleeding hand with missing fingers. “I’ll run througheth thee bastard!” He cursed at me with his face contorted in a mix of agony and fury. Like an idiot, I stared in a strange trance at the man who suddenly lunged toward his knife. My delayed reaction caused me to miss as I swiped the sickle at him. However, my effort caused him to back away. Struggling to my feet, I recognized I was past the point of no return: it’s either him or me! When he attacked, I swung the deadly instrument again. This time I got him in the leg. His grunt confirmed my attack. Not waiting, I slammed the blade into his shoulder. The damage wasn’t enough since the hunter sliced at me with his knife. Fortunately for me, he missed. However, the opening let me swing my weapon at his chest, and my hand felt the impact. As I backed up, a grunting, gurgling noise confused me. In the shadows, I watched as the man fell over. His body seemed to tremble, and I heard a drawn-out gasp. Then, it’s quiet! Deathly quiet filled the area except for my ragged breathing. Crawling away with my bloody weapon still in one hand, I pushed into the thicket. I’m running on pure adrenaline since my brain is past reason. Even amid the pain from my knife wound, I forced myself to think about one thing. I must get away! They’ll find the body and come for me! Even in self-defense, I’m a murderer without power during this time. It’s strange that I suddenly recall a bit of history. Laws are for nobles to control commoners. For the same inexplicable reason, I know I’m a commoner. Pushing through, deeper and deeper into the darkness, I can’t determine my direction. Instinct filled me while I kept moving away from the scene. I don’t know how far I’ve gone, but exhaustion filled my body. After coming to a small clearing, I looked up through the trees. Eventually, my eyes caught sight of the star I’m following. After finally seeing it, I used the sickle to cut a notch in the tree trunk next to me. It’s pointing in the right direction for me to follow in daylight. As the night fills my vision, I wonder if I’ll wake up since I can’t feel the pain like before. Even my breathing slows while the aches The soothing darkness of vines and bushes surrounded me next to the tree. As I lay there with the blackness overcoming me, I think I hear a voice calling out. Briefly, I wonder if it’s the girl. Run away, you fool! I can’t call out to her. My exhaustion won’t allow it. My mind reminds me I’m a murderer with my weapon in hand. This dream world requires survival. I’ve seen that already. As grogginess filled my mind, I remember a story about a woman with a red hood somewhere, but only her name comes to mind. Little Red Riding Hood was my grandchild’s favorite story! Closing my eyes, I tried to capture the memory and hold it. It’s too difficult. A brief memory comes back when I must survive in the woods. A fleeting image of people in camouflage uniforms. My mind slowly blanked as my heavy eyelids closed.If I wake up and realize what I just went through was fake, I’ll be angry. This can’t be a dream. My body hurts too much. It must be a nightmare. ~~~ A panicked voice and sounds woke me with a start. I grabbed the wood shaft in my hand and looked around in fear. The morning dawn is just arriving, filling the sky with beautiful colors amid the dark shadows around me. After a moment, I finally calmed down and my stomach started again. It’s getting pissed off with the lack of food. The image that woke me comes back to my mind. It’s like a jumbled series of flashes filling my head. All of them show me I’ve fallen to a familiar floor. People stand over me, then I see the inside of an ambulance. The strange thing is I noticed my arm when the EMT is inserting an IV. I observe my arm, which is lacking muscle and has wrinkled, splotchy skin. I remember the last image is a small child running into a room. Her eyes are frightened and excited. “Grandpa, you’ll be fine!” Curious, I looked around for the voice. It’s a memory. When I stare at my grimy, bloodied hands and forearms, they reveal thin limbs with no signs of a wrinkle. I turned over my hand and saw the wound on one palm from the blade of the sickle. Dried blood crusts the jagged wound. It also covers my hand and some of my clothing. “Damn, can I get tetanus here?” I mumbled. My voice is still unrecognizable to my ears, but that’s the least of my problems. Looking over my clothing, I’m shocked. Damn, I’m wearing leather pants like a rock band from the 80s. The joke immediately disappeared from my thoughts. How do I remember such things now? Before I fell asleep from exhaustion, I went mostly by instinct. Now, my memories overnight have convinced me of the truth. I died as an old man and now I’m back inside a new body. Well, of sorts, I thought. My body odor reached me as I eased my aching body to a fully upright position. Slowly, I looked over the filthy woolen cloak I’m wearing which show a large, dried patch of blood coming down from the collar to my chest. It immediately reminded me of my injury in the town when I first woke. Lifting my arm, I groaned from the knife wound in my shoulder. Using my other hand, I feel around my throat, which carried a line of crust across it. Without a mirror, I couldn’t tell much. The strange part is I didn’t recall anyone attacking me while I was in the village. All I remembered was getting up from the ground and the people who stared at me. Someone screamed, and all hell broke loose after that. As I guessed my faulty memories were to blame, I tenderly felt the line across my throat again. I’m hoping it doesn’t go into a bacterial infection. For a moment, I wondered if someone had cut my throat. Then I shook my head. No, I’d be dead! When I pulled back the fabric of the cloak to check my other wound, there’s blood on the outside of my leather shirt. I frowned, growing angry when I saw the long slit from the hunter’s knife blade left in my shirt. Frustrated, I carefully lift off my cloak, then my shirt. The pain made it difficult, but I needed to see the gash in my shoulder. It’s several inches above my heart. My skin is pasty pale, like it’s never seen sunlight. “That bearded bastard tried to kill me,” I mumbled to myself. “Well, fuck him! He should be dead.” That’s when an epiphany came to me. Assuming my thoughts about the time frame of this world, I realized I needed to clean my wounds. Most people died from infections and disease. “Yeah, I remember watching that program with my son!” My brain locked up at the information. “Wait, my son is Timothy. We watched a show about the medieval world together when he was young.” Shaking my head with my head in my hands, my son’s smile came back to me. I teared up as more memories rolled across my brain like a freight train. My wife, Betty, held my hand on our first date, then I held hers as we cut the wedding cake. Tim’s wife, Amber, showed us our first grandchild, Tiffany. Tears fell down my cheeks as I sobbed. It took a while, but finally I calmed down. After taking a couple of deep breaths, I nodded to myself as I realized my long life had a loving wife and child. I’ve lived a good life! “So, what the hell am I doing here?” I yelled up at the sky. A dozen paces away from the strange man yelling at the sky, Blanchette woke with a start. She immediately held out the bloody dagger in her hand, only to relax when she realized no one threatened her. The woman scurried to her knees and lifted her head carefully to where she heard the man’s voice. She saw her rescuer. The thin young man with brown hair stared into the sky with tears in his eyes. Blanchette stifled a gasp when she noticed the closed gash across his throat. Dried blood covered his neck and the front of his clothing. How is he alive? She was confident that the hunter hadn’t cut the stranger’s throat, but the sight led her to other questions. As she observed him, Blanchette wondered at the reason behind the man’s breakdown. Then she stared down at the dagger that she had retrieved from the fight. The stranger took on Larry the Huntsman. She watched the fight from a few paces away, wanting to help but too afraid to join in the fight unarmed. When Larry finally stopped moving, Blanchette finally felt a sense of freedom washing over her. She escaped from the horror of Emerald City. Nobody would be wiser. Her grandmother could take the backlash from failing to live up to the agreement. The old hag deserved it! She was supposed to save me, not use me! When the fight finished, for some odd reason, the strange man who saved her crawled away. The grateful woman followed him into the dense brush while she called out to him. Hearing no reply, Blanchette hurried back to the place where the two men had fought. Shocked, the body of the huntsman was not there. Fear filled the woman as she felt around in the dirt and leaves until she came upon the dagger. She ran away, determined to find the man who had saved her. It didn’t take long to follow his path since he occasionally groaned in pain and mumbled to himself. Finally, she found him leaning against a tree. At first, Blanchette thought her savior had died from his efforts. The woman inched closer to discover he was breathing. However, her extreme wariness about men remained. That he could overcome the much larger hunter both intrigued and terrified her. She wondered if he had held some type of dark magic power. As much as she wanted to check his injuries, she was afraid of his reaction if he woke. Instead, Blanchette convinced herself to remain nearby, where she could observe him. Should he turn into a demon, she could escape his grasp. After seeing his tearful cry out to the sky, the woman tried to gather the courage to call out to him. However, the raging conflict inside her kept her silent. Experience forced her to see men as natural predators. Blanchette only recalled a handful of times when a man didn’t eye her with thoughts of their pleasure. Her time working in a brothel confirmed the worst of them. A shudder went through her as she forced the past from her mind. Blanchette peeked over the foliage as she watched the man, who observed a notch in the trunk of a tree. Lifting her head occasionally to watch her rescuer working, the woman found herself growing intrigued by his actions. The man took a piece of bark from a tree, carving another piece, which he eventually used to create a tool. She wondered why he kept looking at the piece of wood, only to stare up at the sun, then back at the notch in the tree. When the stranger finally left, he appeared confident as he moved. He pushed through the undergrowth and entered an open field. Blanchette hurriedly slid on her red cape and cautiously followed the man. Chapter 3By late afternoon, I found a stream. My thirst and hunger drove me forward, and I wanted to thank the heavens when I finally found the cool water. The water was clear, and I just hoped there would be no dead animals upstream to get me sick. Still, my thirst overpowered my concerns, and drank my fill despite the inside of my throat feeling so sore. The water knocked off the raging hunger for a bit. While I sat on the bank, I thought about the crazy world around me. Maybe I lived a lifetime before. The memories tell me that, but I’m back in a youthful body. It means I plan to have a long life. My suspicion told me I needed to forget my past and focus on survival. Fortunately, I had some survival skills, which I already used. After coming back to my senses when I woke, I found my mark on the tree. It gave me my starting course as I made a rough sun compass using a piece of bark and a stick. Using the shadow of the sun and its path, I could follow the same direction I took overnight. Even though the sickle’s blade was too large for delicate work, the compass worked reasonably well. My direction appeared to follow a northeasterly route. That was assuming the world here followed the same directions as Earth. For a moment, I could only follow the assumption. Briefly, I entertained the idea of climbing a tree to look for villages. But I disregarded the thought after remembering something in survival school. A broken leg makes you easier to capture and more likely to die. No need to take unnecessary risks. After stripping down, I cleaned myself as well as possible in the stream. I put in my clothing and the sickle as well to remove the blood. Explaining the bloodstains would not help me when I eventually got to a town. After all, you would assume this new world frowned upon killing another person, even if I was defending myself. After I finished, I hung the clothes up to dry while I went over to an open area to assess my direction against a nearby trail. It appeared to be heading in the same direction, so I considered my next steps. Sitting naked in a forest is weird enough, but I had the feeling someone was watching me. While I kept glancing over my shoulder only to see nothing, I finally decided the noises came from animals moving around in the brush. Leaning back against a fallen log, I let the late afternoon sun warm me while I organized my memories and plans. Conceding to myself that this place was my reality now, I noticed a sense of calm washed over me. This new world now intrigued me. Sure, being hunted in the middle of a town scared the hell out of me. But, I now found a sense of wonder about this place. After all, the trees and animals look like those on Earth. The water chilled my body, and the warmth of the sun appeared the same as before my death. I laughed inside at the idea that struck me. This world might be my purgatory. Since I wasn’t religious, the thought carried a wonderful irony, and I accepted it as part of my karma. I wasn’t a particularly good person, so who knew? No matter how it turned out, I decided there wasn’t much I could do about it. Thinking about the path through the forest and the making of a sun compass brought thoughts back to my past. My SERE training while I was in the Navy certainly helped me so far. Even though I was a photographer’s mate, the military sent me to survival school to become an aircrewman. Now, I’m glad it happened, and it also led me to my next tasks. Finding more food came after I cleaned my body. I encountered a bush of wild berries along the way. They looked like nonpoisonous types from my training. After sampling one berry that appeared edible, I waited for a while. After finding no adverse effects, I gathered all I could carry. But I realized eating berries won’t last long. I needed to make a trap or fish to get meat, which I intended to do after finding a better campsite. When I rose from my spot to check my clothes, I heard a sudden inhale. A glance in that direction revealed movement behind a nearby bush. Grabbing my sickle, I pulled myself behind a tree. Then, I crouched and circled around the area where I had seen movement. As I got closer, I heard the snap of a twig. I raised my weapon and spotted red clothing amid the brush. “Alright, come out into the open!” My scratchy voice did not sound menacing enough. Still, the figure I could scarcely see inside the foliage suddenly froze. “I said, come out. I’ll only count to three, then I’ll come in after you.” As I made my demand, I realized I’m still naked. Only a crazy man would push into a thorn bush. It certainly wouldn’t do my junk any good. Still, I started counting aloud. Fortunately for me, two hands rose in the air. Soon, the face of the woman I saw in the night came into view. “I cullionly nay harmeth!” She sputtered out. Curiously, I seemed more embarrassed than the girl. Her eyes focused below my waistline. Well, I’m happy in a strange way. Maybe size does matter. However, I kept my guard up. “Huh? What the hell are you saying?” She finally looked at my face and gave me a forced smile. “Nay weapons, I carryeth. I bring offering.” The woman extended both hands to show me the weapon that nearly ended my life a few hours before. Dried blood coated the huntsman’s dagger and her hands. “Yeah, I can see that,” I sighed. “Why did you follow me?” “Taketh it?” she cocked her head at my question. I crept closer, scanning the area before I suddenly seized the dagger. Backing away, I lowered my sickle. I looked at the knife, then at her, and finally accepted it as a gift. What the hell! Going to my clothes, I eyed her while continuing to observe my surroundings. Since I had no idea about her intentions, I pulled my partially dried pants from a limb as she came out of the brush. “I’m not going to hurt you—I mean thee!” I mumbled while frowning. “You should go away.” Leaning back against a stump, I awkwardly slid on my pants. Well, I tried to slip them on. Getting leather pants while they’re still damp is tougher than you can imagine. The woman broke into a cute grin as she watched me hopping around on one leg. Sure that my face was redder than her cape, I glared at her. “Why are you still here?” She turned away, and I nodded to myself. I focused on getting my pants on. In this world, there’re no zippers for pants, and only holes cut into the leather to use a belt. It’s damn inconvenient for taking a piss. When I finished getting my belt on, I slid the dagger and the sickle in between the crude leather strap. When I reached my cape, I noticed the red hair girl remained several paces away. She glanced back after picking several leaves from a bright flowering plant. “Wh’re art thee going?” She asked as she walked toward me. I took a step back. It was obvious she wouldn’t take my hint, so I shrugged. Then, I pointed to the northeast. I'm still assuming the direction since I don't have a map of this world. “To Morum? Tis a valorous road,” she said. “These are for thee. Alloweth me healeth thy injury!” The woman came towards me with a handful of leaves. I couldn’t stop staring at her hypnotic pale blue eyes. Even with her dirty, round face, she carried the adorable hint of a cherub. But I was unclear about her age. Having been a grandpa for so long, I found it difficult to guess the ages of young people. Now, I’m unsure how to even ask with the partial language barrier. Her frown at my hesitation broke me out of my thoughts. “What do you want to do with those?” I finally asked, but I had a pretty good idea. “Thee must crusheth’t. Putteth’t ther’th as well!” She pointed to my chest and my throat. The woman promptly hoisted her red hooded cape over her shoulders. Her undergarment tunic was thin, and I spied her substantial breasts as she crouched down by a nearby piece of flat black slate on the ground. As I watched her, my hand went to my throat. Now, I was sure someone had cut my throat in the village. While I ran my fingers over the rough wound crossing my windpipe, I tried to understand who might want to kill this body I took over. Of course, no memories came before I woke in that place, so I could only speculate about the reasons. No wonder it hurt just drinking water. It’s a miracle I survived! The young woman interrupted my thoughts as she asked me for the dagger. I cocked my head slightly and pulled it from my belt. After the woman cut two strips from the edge of her red cape, she placed the leaves on the stone and used the pommel to grind the leaves into a pulp. Standing there and watching the woman work, I thought over how she had tracked me since the early morning. Considering I never noticed her, she could have used the huntsman’s knife on me. Giving me the dagger showed her good faith. Obviously, I needed a friend, so I decided to use her knowledge to understand this place. The woman rose with the green-looking pulp-covered strip in her hand. From what I understood of the language, she would reopen the wounds. Her sympathetic eyes looked into mine while she explained it was necessary to get the poultice into the scab. Still, I wasn’t expecting the level of pain and I nearly yelled as she forced open my chest wound and applied the strip of cloth to cover it. She carefully rubbed more the compound into the reopened wounds on my shoulder and then, my throat. I asked her questions as she worked. My hunch that she knew little about infections was correct. But I rightly guessed the native concoction gave an antibiotic effect. It went along with things I remembered from SERE school. However, I couldn’t identify the plants she was working with if you put a pistol to my face. As we continued to chat, I got the barest gist of the world. Four kingdoms made up the known world, and they contained the greatest cities, along with powerful kings and nobility. When I asked her name, she smiled. “Mine own nameth isBlanchette. Mine own calleth me Red Riding Hood because of mine own hair and clothing,” she said. Damn, a fairy tale! What are the odds? When she tied off another strip of cloth, which she cut for my injured hand after rubbing in the poultice to my wound, I debated her name. Yes, she confirmed she carried the name of a fairy tale character. Still, I refused to believe I’m stuck in such a place. This is reality, I told myself. It’s not something the kids called a manga in my other world. After all, I didn’t see any wolf, just a damn rapist last night. “What’s thy nameth?” Her question brought me out of my thoughts. I wasn’t sure what to say. Then, I remembered what my attackers called me. “Covan,” I replied. She stared at me for a moment, then asked me if I was a commoner. For some reason, I shook my head. Sure, it’s a lie, but I didn’t grow up as a damn peasant. “Then, thee might not but has’t two names,” she stated. Now, there’s no way I can subject her to trying to pronounce Postlethwaite. I fought that embarrassment all my previous life. So, I just shrugged. “I can’t say it here since I’ve cometh from a faraway land called America,” I explained. “A storm brought me here, and my king might search for me.” Her brows knotted in thought, then she nodded in agreement. “Covan Brown-haired,” she told me. “Simple and to the point, I like it!” I replied with a grin. Yes, I couldn’t hide my surprise at learning I had brown hair. Guess I should have looked at the water reflection before dunking my head in it. The brief look of triumph on her face made me want to laugh. Blanchette turned serious and quickly explained I must hide my wound. Quickly she cut another strip from her cap and handed to me. Giving a sympathetic smile, I put the strip of red wool around my neck. “Nigh, those gents at the gate might consider thee a ghoul with such scars!” She laughed at my shocked look to her joke. The woman warned me that my injuries might lead to thugs coming after me or suspicious guards putting me in a dungeon for being a bandit. According to her, nobles don’t have such scars unless they are the king’s warriors who’ve survived years of battles which no potion can cure. Otherwise, a noble has the means to remove such scars with potions. It seems justice doesn’t exist in the world, just black and white judgement. But my thoughts remained on her joke. Is that why I had a mob after me? They thought I was a ghoul after surviving my cut throat. Chapter 4“How about letting me call you Ruby?” I asked suddenly. Blanchette looked confused at my question. The request came on the morning of the next day after we started down the trail to a main road. The campsite we stayed overnight yielded little food besides water and berries. I smiled as I tried to explain my thoughts. Yes, I finally grew tired of calling her by her given name. However, more than my ego motivated my push for her nickname. First, this young woman didn’t look like a Blanchette. In my mind, such a name goes to an elderly widow with too many cats. Plus, forget about the idea that Red Riding Hood was a decent name. Way too much of a fairy tale story for me to consider. Beyond that, I remembered the hunter saying others wanted her. She needed a unique new identity. As she thought about it, I laid on the charm. Well, what little I had. “Thou are too pretty for such a long, cumbersome name. Thou hair shines red like the setting sun. Thou lookth like a gem. So, I giveth thee a name for only me to useth. It’ll be best with a new identity since you’re running away from that man.” The woman’s face went red from embarrassment while I awkwardly used the fake Shakespeare lines. Still, I enjoyed her reaction. Young girls are so fun to tease! As she considered my idea, I fell back into my own thoughts while we walked through the forest. To my surprise that morning, Blanchette told me that Larry the Huntsman had survived. Yeah, I did not know Larry was his name. And I couldn’t believe he got up again. She told me that her attacker hurried back to the camp after she started following me. Worse, I found out the huntsman worked for a guild with a contract to deliver Blanchette to a place called Emerald City.My jaw nearly hit the ground at the information. Yes, the same Emerald City where the Wizard of Oz lives. Blanchette insisted he was a real wizard. I finally stopped disregarding my idea about this world. It was clear that this place was based on fairy tales. They were wicked enough with Grimm’s heavy hand. As a grandpa, I told plenty of these stories to my kid and grandchildren, so I knew them well enough. When I read those stories to my kids, I realized the fairy tales and myths we all grew up with were darker than what we saw in the colorful books and animated movies. But this place is even worse than the things described in the Grimm stories. For example, Blanchette’s grandmother runs a brothel outside a tavern on the main road to Alsfeld. Worse, she sold the services of her granddaughter to another brothel in Emerald City. How sick is that? Yeah, the picture of a sweet old lady getting eaten by a wolf is a load of crap. Well, I wish it was true for Little Red Riding Hood’s sake. Her grandmother hired Larry as an escort for Blanchette to complete her deal with Emerald City. Ruby knew the brothel well. She grew up supporting the prostitutes working for her grandma after her mother died. Putting the dots together in the conversations, I discovered Blanchette did more than help clean the brothel. While the woman hid the pain well, I could see the bitterness and hurt in Blanchette’s expression the more she talked about her ordeal. To top off the indignity, Blanchette’s grandmother sold her to pay off a substantial debt. The look on Ruby’s pretty face made me angry. My feelings of protecting her started after I heard the truth. I guess the old grandpa inside hated the injustice of it all. The discovery also shattered what brief illusions I had left. That someone would force Red Riding Hood to work in a whorehouse inside the same city where the Wizard of Oz lives told me this world is rotten to the core. I had no doubt about it when I thought about my own run-ins with people so far. It was another reason I decided I would fix Ruby’s problem with a name change as her first step. “Covan, I accepteth the nameth!” Her words brought me back to the present. With a smile, I thanked my new partner. The funny part was how happy she appeared. As we walked along, she started humming and making a song with her name in the words. From the song she put together, I learned she had followed me, then joined with me because of her gratitude for my help against Larry. I can’t say I was unhappy at the idea. We walked along a wide path to Morum. She convinced me to go to the capital city after I learned it was in the general direction I was going. Moreover, we can join guilds that govern economic activity. Ruby was sharp in her thinking, and I planned to use her instincts to survive this place. Selfish? Maybe, but I considered her a partner as well. As we walked the trail, I kept going over ways to survive this place in my head. It’s the primary reason I insist I’m not a commoner. Nobles, like the uberwealthy technology CEOs of my time, have the first right to grab and control everything that builds wealth. So, I intend to find a guild where I can put my twenty-first century skills to work. If I’m going to survive, I need money and connections to become powerful. What are those skills? Well, I spent twenty years in a machine shop, so I can make a hell of a lot of things from almost any type of metal, including weapons. My memories and experience in design and tinkering came with me. This world is going to get an upgrade once I establish a place to call home. The more we talked about things, the more I could see Ruby found my lack of knowledge strange. It forced me to come up with a backstory. So, I took the simple route, which I had already started. I’m a lost noble. Worse, I invented things, which got me into trouble and led me to this land. Furthermore, I explained that my escape had taken me across a vast distance from this unknown land. Since I had no means of returning to America, I must make this place my new home. Strangely, the story mirrored my current situation somewhat. Throughout the first day of walking, the hunger pangs kept the two of us mostly silent with our eyes focused on finding food. Occasionally, we found the odd berry bush. Ruby knew how to forage from her time with her mother, so her wisdom came in handy when I tried to pick what I thought were blueberries. Instead, I found out bluish-red berries contained a poison useful for witches to create a sleeping potion. From the description, I immediately thought about the tale of Sleeping Beauty. A nearby bush carried small black berries, which Ruby strongly discouraged me from touching. “Tis death if the juice touchth thee blood,” she whispered. From the reaction, I knew they reminded her of something painful. So, I silently pocketed a couple of handfuls of the deadly berries along with the sleeping type. Later, I added a handful of the belladonna berries I recognized from my survival training. The dark blue belladonna berries were among the most toxic in my world. It’s not that I wanted poisonous berries for my diet. However, I figured they would come in handy for hunting. Eventually, I would use a bow, and I knew a poisoned arrow would save me a long walk. It reminded me of a show about Aboriginal hunters using poison on their arrows and spears to kill their prey. As I thought about weapons, the idea of developing black powder and guns came to me. When I asked Ruby about guns, I frowned since she told me they exist, but only a few nobles owned them. From the description, they appeared to use matchlocks for firing, which were nearly useless in the rain. Soon, a grin came to my face. I realized there was an opportunity to make inventions to get rich. Ruby asked me what I was smiling about. I shrugged, then cocked my head at the sound of running water. Moments later, we came to a creek. The clear water showed fish swimming below the narrow bridge. “Time for dinner,” I told her. After a feast of small fish strips cooked over the fire, along with berries and water, I finally found a comfortable place next to a large tree hollow. We caught the fish using my cape. Letting it settle to the bottom of the creek, I slowly lifted it up to gather the fish that came swimming by. While we caught fewer fish compared to the number we lost, it was better than building a temporary trap. Making sure that our campsite was off the main trail a fair distance. I showed Ruby how to build a Dakota fire hole to keep the flames from being seen by travelers along the trail. The ground was soft, and my sickle worked well enough to make the hole. A survival instinct continuously stayed with me since both of us were basically unarmed with nothing more than a dagger and a sickle. As night fell, my exhaustion came on fast. I pulled out the silver dagger that Ruby gave me with a question. “Why did the hunter have this? It seems too expensive for his trade.” The woman dropped her eyes. “My grandmother gave me that before he took me away. She said it’s cursed like me.” “And you gave it to me!” My voice went up a notch. “Nay, it’s not liketh you thinkth,” her expression turned fearful. “It’s the only thing I hadst of value. I didn’t believeth you’d wanteth this body.” Obviously, she’s got trust issues with how men have treated her. I tried to stop rolling my eyes and failed. “First, you are a beautiful woman. So, of course, I’d want your body. Still, I just don’t jump a woman like a stupid noble. You’re more than a toy for a man. Never put yourself down like that again. Do you understand?” Ruby blushed before she nodded. “Now, more importantly, what type of curse are you talking about?” I kept trying to feel some type of magic on the weapon as I balanced it in my hand. Of course, I felt nothing but weight. “I’m not sureth,” she replied. “Grandmother hath said t only works in the timeth of the moon. The huntsman tooketh from mine own container. He looked unsure about it but said he taketh as payment.” “He’s a bastard that deserved what he got,” I growled at the idea of him robbing her as well. The chuckle from Ruby made me look up, and she appeared pleased at my comment. Rolling over the dagger in my hand, I looked at the symbols in the pommel, but it didn’t make sense to me. What curse during the moon? Finally, I sighed and handed it to her. She looked hurt. “No, it’s not as you think,” I quickly explained. “I’m giving to you because I want you to be protected if someone sneaks up on you and I’m not around. I don’t believe it’s cursed. You saw how he used it to stab me. Do you understand? It means I trust you. So use it for your defense!” After much hesitation, Ruby finally accepted the dagger. She stared at it while I lay down partially inside the tree’s hollow. As my eyes closed and sleep overwhelmed me, I felt the woman snuggle against my back. An icy fear hit me at the fleeting thought she might use the dagger on me. Then, I sighed at the thought. Well, I’ve got to start somewhere! ~~~ As Ruby fell asleep, she considered the man next to her. Covan didn’t treat her as she expected. Other men would take her, even beat her if unsatisfied, before rolling over to sleep. That was the reason she offered him the dagger instead of her body. He was a nobleman. She was a commoner and a whore. The kingdoms carried no laws to keep a noble from doing as he wanted with a commoner unattached to the land or a guild. His green eyes watched her and the world around them carefully. She recognized his skills were different than the hunters she knew. Normally, Covan carried a hunted expression, which looked like he carried a tremendous weight on his shoulders. Despite his small stature, the man carried himself proudly, and she knew he carried unusual ideas about the world around them. His story of coming from a land called America intrigued her. Of course, any commoner would find the idea of traveling with a noble hero remarkable and fascinating. At first, she thought he’d throw her away when he discovered her background and prostitution. Instead, Covan explained that his obvious anger stemmed from her mistreatment by her family. I guess nobles could never understand selling everything for scraps of food. While Ruby despised her grandmother for selling her to pay off a debt, she understood the practicality of the transaction. Commoners did what they could to survive. Maybe a noble could never understand such things. Still, she carried a faint hope that Covan would keep her as a servant. His trust in handing the expensive dagger back to her filled her with happiness. Even if she’s as cursed as the weapon, Ruby vowed to help the thin man who trusted her. Even if it meant her life. Chapter 5A few days later, Ruby and I stood in a meadow outside the walls of Morum. We followed a merchant convoy, who overtook us along the main road to arrive at the capital of theGlennot Kingdom. Naturally, the occupants of the wagons eyed us suspiciously. According to Ruby, bandits waited along the roads for victims. The leader of the convoy joined with another man to point their pikes at me. The column leader, Aermus, dropped his pike as he spoke with Ruby. As an adventurer, his brutally honest assessment of my fighting capability hurt my ego. Still, it helped us convince the group we weren’t bandits. Judging from their expressions, I’m pretty sure they thought we were crazy for traveling a desolate stretch of road with no money, weapons, or armor. Aermus allowed us to stay reasonably close to their wagons for our protection. However, he stated we were on our own if bandits attacked. Even with seven adventurers protecting the caravan, we were outside the contract they had with the merchants. It seemed a reasonable accommodation, but my eyes remained on the adventurers. Lustful looks at Ruby, along with their use of different local dialects of this Shakespearean language, kept me wary of their intentions. Still, I remained honest to myself. If they intended to take her, I was powerless. I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could win with my weak body and fighting skills. Fortunately, Aermus had the heart of a knight, and he wasn’t one to give his men opportunities to abuse women. My lips curled into a grin when I saw him smack a couple of larger men with the broadside of his sword while giving them warnings. As the days progressed, the stares at Ruby remained, but their expressions fell into more of a wishful thinking category. Ruby’s natural charm got more and more information from our fellow travelers. When she came to me each night, I asked her questions to get up to speed about this world and the news. As I learned more, I grew more nervous. Rumors of war coming, rogue wizards, and supernatural creatures stirring, filled our conversations. It’s bad enough I have no magic understanding, but growing up with access to modern weapons kept me weak. I carried no experience with something like a sword and shield. On top of that, I can’t even understand a language that is supposed to be English. Damn, I need a translator! As I stood there, I thought about our new home. The Glennot Kingdom, ruled by King Conmáel, was a name that eluded me, like one of those obscure trivia names in history. It seems the king remains an undefeated champion knight who has never lost a battle. The merchants in the convoy spoke about his fair rule and his beautiful Queen Findabair. According to the story Ruby gave me, the queen is so beautiful that hundreds of men died to woe her as a bride. Seriously, that’s just screwed up, in my opinion. But in my eavesdropping on the conversations among the merchants and Aermus, I figured out more about this world. It confirmed the obvious difference between my thoughts and the reality of our location. The fairy tales I understood provided only an uneven glimpse of these lands and the people. Even the names are different at times. The strongest wizard, Merlin, exists, but he goes by the name Myrddin Wyllt. My rudimentary knowledge of history makes me think it’s a Welsh version of him. Or maybe he sounds more noble with two names. Still, he still got a feud going with the enchantress Morgan le Fay. Their feud seemed to cause a lot of problems for the kingdoms, along with multiple conspiracies and political intrigue. Like in the fairy tales, it appears the kingdoms go to war as part of stopping some curse or plague caused by a witch or sorcerer. It seems more than a few people cause problems with their powers. Of course, I told Ruby to lie about our past. We claimed we’re just commoners seeking a better life in a good kingdom. I guess the merchants assumed we were married since they treated us that way. For my part, I tried to keep from speaking much and listened in on the conversations. For money, we considered trading in her cursed dagger. However, we decided against it since neither of us knew about the curse. All I knew was the blade maintained a fine edge, even though it looked made of silver. To me, that meant the underlying metal was top-notch, thus expensive, if I guessed right. Selling it for some food made little sense at the moment. The berry bushes and creeks with fish got us by without undo hunger. I even upgraded to crude fishing gear using a partially broken crude hook which I discovered and remolded with my hands. The unlinking the strands of yarn used in my cape’s construction gave me a length of string. Bigger fish seem to like worms just fine, and the cursed dagger gutted them like a filet knife. Also, I discovered more about the kingdom that Ruby and I escaped from. The Joteland Kingdom, which appeared somewhat like Vikings of old, with names like King Fornjót and Queen Grimhilde. Also, I determined that my escape started inside a village called Draugr. The merchants carried a rumor about a plague of undead creatures who attacked the village. My guess is they thought I was a zombie when they saw my neck. Since I did not know where the wound came from, I can only surmise someone tried to kill me. Perhaps they were leading the mob. Either way, I kept my healing scar hidden. It also woke me up to the fact that I needed to find a way to become much stronger in fighting or get a sponsor of some sort until I could get the money I expected to earn. That leads to the question, why am I standing in the meadow with Ruby while the convoy continued on to the capital? First, there’s a toll to enter the city. It’s a simple mechanism to keep out the riffraff, commoners like me and Ruby, traveling between kingdoms. The toll for most cities is a half-silver coin. During our journey, Ruby told me that the merchants, the clerics, and the nobility used silver and gold coins. A serf or commoner will seldom carry anything valuable beyond pfendings, a coin made of copper. In fact, a commoner or slave found carrying gold or silver coins makes them very suspicious in the eyes of the guards. Not that it mattered to us, since we didn’t have enough of any coins to pass through the gate. Fortunately, I learned about these obstacles before we arrived. With an understanding concerning the general layout of the city, I hatched a plan for us to use when we arrived at the city. The day before we arrived at the capital, the convoy stopped to rest the animals. I explained my idea to Ruby, and I mentioned our need for rope and another sickle. However, what Ruby offered next infuriated me. “Then, I shalt lie with the men to receiveth our supplies!” Her degrading offer to help by using her body enraged me. During our time together, I started to look upon her as my woman. Yeah, I’m getting possessive about Ruby. After all, only a eunuch wouldn’t want such a lovely woman. Ruby’s eyes widened when I grabbed her by the arm in a huff. I pulled her out of earshot of the caravan, then really laid it on the line with my otherworld morals. “Don’t you ever offer to do such a thing again!” I snarled at her. “When you do that, you belittle yourself. You’re not a prostitute. Do you understand?” Ruby stared at me for a moment in shock and confusion. “B—but how shall we consume and liveth in the city?” She finally asked. I let out a sigh and moved back as I thought. Her expression told me she wanted to help, and her body was her vehicle for survival. As I thought about it, she’s dealt with growing up in a caste system. I haven’t. So, I changed my argument. “We’ll figure out something. As long as you’re with me, you hurt my status as a noble by doing such a foolish thing. You are never—I mean never—offer your body to another person.” I poked my finger into her forehead for emphasis. “Don’t embarrass a nobleman like that!” My strange reasoning caused tears to well up in her eyes, and she dropped her head like a beaten dog. Shocked at the woman’s reaction, I reached out, dropped my hands, then finally took her into a hug. She stiffened for a moment, then loosened up while promising not to embarrass me. I nodded and gave her a smile. Ruby kept glancing at me as we walked back to the caravan. However, I paid little attention as an idea came to me. Before dawn, I went to one of the merchant’s wagons. After I borrowed—well, I mean I stole a large rope coil. I added another sickle to my collection as well. Now, this is risky since they’ll string me up by my neck with the same rope if I’m caught. Aermus told me the adventurers hung thieves and bandits when we first met. But with the wagons so close to the city, I figured the merchants wouldn’t discover the theft until they got inside the gates. Which leads me to the second reason that Ruby and I are so far behind the merchant caravan. After I stole the materials we needed from the convoy of wagons, we hid them. Acting out our ruse that morning, we followed the wagons for a while before Ruby gave a wonderful performance. She faked tripping on the side of the road. With me holding her up to help with a fake hurt ankle, we waved them on. When the wagons finally got out of sight, we hurried back to retrieve our stolen items. Near midday, we made it to the outskirts of Morum just as the merchants entered the city. Now we waited for the darkness to fall while I went to work on my invention, the grappling hook. Alright, it’s not my invention, since the grappling hook dates back to the Roman era for boarding ships. I used to read a lot about naval warfare as a kid, so I’m sure that enticed me to join the Navy in the first place. However, I have a special use for my homemade version, which involves scaling a medieval wall. First, I cut out a small piece of the rope I stole, then unbraided the strands to wrap around the two sickles. I put them together with the blades facing opposite each other before I wrapped the small strands around the handles. Then, I took one end of the rope and spliced in the twisted strands with the cord, finally wrapping the handles again with more of the strands. When I finished, I had a crude grappling hook. “Thou art most wondrous,” my pretty companion marveled at the device. When a beautiful woman gives you such a compliment, trust me, it goes to your head. Full of myself, I tested the device out on a tree. It worked just fine the first time; the hook wrapping itself over the limb. However, I forgot the sharp blades cutting into the rope. When I crawled about halfway up the tree, the rope snapped, and I ended up on my butt. Luckily, the two sickles fell out. However, I looked like a damn fool trying to avoid the sickles trying to impale me on their way down. My bruised ego joined my bruised backside while I remade my grappling hook. After I finished my grappling hook 2.0 (yes, I’m a grandpa who’s played computer games), I coiled up the rope for our next step. The sun was close to setting. We waited until darkness was almost complete before we went across the open field and circled around to one side of the walled city. The merchant’s description of the walls was pretty accurate. He described the height as 3 men standing on their shoulders would reach the top, which makes them about fifteen to twenty feet tall by my guess. From our position, we watched the men holding lanterns, making their rounds across the battlements on the top. It did not take long to spot a pattern. After I explained what I wanted to do, Ruby and I laid back and waited until the sounds of the city slowly faded away. NEXT CHAPTERSEnjoying this story? Become a sponsor but subscribing at the link below.
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