As Emerald approached the Rowdie Inn, she heard the once familiar sounds of drunken midday revelry and cheerful, unskillfully played music. She smiled, remembering what fun she’d had there before attending more mannered functions at the castle, but found her steps faltering the nearer she got to the building. She couldn’t explain it; all within seemed to be lively and bright, yet as she approached, a dark foreboding grew within her, a feeling she knew by now she must not discount.
An old man sat on a bench outside the cracked oaken door stuffing a long whittled pipe, his pack slung alongside him. He peered up at Emerald and flashed a broken grin before leaning in and intoning, “Speak to Madame Rowdie about what you seek…she is a great woman…”
Well, thought Emerald, it isn’t a bad suggestion. The widow Rowdie, owner of the inn, was not, by reputation, overly friendly, polite or helpful, but this mysterious old man seemed to have some sort of otherworldly knowledge. Emerald smiled at him. He scowled and coughed a cloud of green smoke.
Emerald pried open the heavy door and stumbled into the hazy, crowded hall. Stepping daintily around leering drunk men, slack jawed pages and serving women with heavy laden trays, she realized part of the reason for her dread. She had never been to this establishment without Juniper by her side! Without Juniper and her everyready dagger, it all seemed so tawdry and dangerous. What on earth was a knight of the king’s service doing in a place like this?
Through the crowd, Emerald spied the sharp chinned mistress of the inn, Madame Rowdie, surveying the crowd with a perpetual grimace. She smiled with relief, picked up her skirts and made her way over.
“Madame Rowdie,” said Emerald, with a demure curtsey. “I am in search of a man who is lodging here. I do hope you can help -”
Madame Rowdie spat on the ground beside Emerald’s silk slippered foot.
“Don’t give nothin’ for nothin’,” the innkeeper growled. “Not even to a ‘fine lady’ like yourself. You wanna find yourself a man for the night, I suggest you go the stables.” She turned to a busty red faced girl holding an enormous tray of beers. “EVIE! You slip and you’re back upstairs workin’ on your back, savvy?”
Emerald blushed brightly, swallowed hard and forced herself to go on.
“Ah, no, Madame, I understand there is a Tobias Le Baron lodging here, and I wish to return something that belongs to him…”
“Eight crowns.” The innkeeper scratched inside her elaborately piled hair, then reached her hand out to Emerald. “And no less. You want information, you pay.”
“Pardon me?” Emerald’s eyes widened. This woman was entirely disreputable! What was that old man thinking? In a flash, she remembered him from another day – suggesting she speak to Sir Peter Prique, “a great man.” The old fool was insane! Emerald drew in as much breath as she could fit into her corset and raised her chin.
“I mean only to return something to one of your guests. I will find Sir Le Baron, and when I do, I am sure Sir Le Baron will not be pleased to learn -” A great crash sounded from the stairway, a number of people, including poor Evie, stumbling onto the sodden ground. Amidst the mass of bodies, a handsome man stood up and doffed his cap, revealing a head remarkably free of hair.
“Sir Le Baron?” he asked, his eyes locked on Emerald. She felt her face flush again and her breath falter – but differently now.
“Yes?” she said in a small voice, as the pub quieted.
“I am Tobias Le Baron,” he said, bowing. He rose with a smile and looked around the room, slight disgust registering on his face. “Care for a walk?”
They exited the dank inn into a bright and clear day. Sir Le Baron paused briefly at the doorway and shouted out a sarcastically jovial “FareWELL!” to the crowd.
Emerald turned to the bench, an indignant remark ready for her wayward advisor, but the mysterious man had disappeared, mysteriously, though a green cloud of smoke remained. How very…mysterious, thought Emerald.
“I take it you know this area better than I, Miss..?” said Sir Le Baron.
“La Verte. Emerald La Verte, of Goldenseal Cottage,” she replied, suddenly quite grateful at the prospect of a civilized conversation.
“What a lovely name…” The knight peered at her as if remembering something, then cleared his throat. “Now – what is it you wish to give me?”
Emerald flushed, her mind blank for a moment as their eyes locked.
“Oh!” she cried, her hand fumbling in her cloak pocket for the crimson envelope. “A letter – it blew from the main road onto my little greensward. I fear it has not reached its intended destination.”
Taking the letter from her, the knight’s face grew serious. He recovered himself and hastily tucked the letter away. He smiled at Emerald.
“What a conscientious young lady you are, and how astute! You were able to tell my name from the symbols on the seal! Remarkable…”
Emerald opened her mouth to explain, then quickly closed it and smiled demurely.
“Twas nothing, Sir Le Baron…” she said, peering at him furtively.
“Please, Miss La Verte – do call me Tobias, if it’s not too forward.” He looked cautiously at her, and continued as she nodded. “Would you do me a kind favor, if you have the afternoon free? Show me the town of Lanolin? I have not been here for many years, and I should like to see it as you do.”
Emerald felt glee well up in her. She stifled a grin, and nodded politely. What was this feeling? Surely she was just happy for the opportunity for information – an answer to the riddle of the letter. But there was something else as well. Somehow she felt a pull towards this man, this strange rugged man, from far away.
She tried her best to banish these thoughts and continue to converse politely as they walked, but their glances at each other grew longer and longer as the day wore on, until she felt she could not bear the weight of them any longer without some resolution.
Tobias was from the King’s City, over two days’ ride away. He was only here on some clandestine errand, yet here he was, enjoying the day with her. Their talk flowed freely as they approached a meadow in which sheep were grazing.
“This is one thing I cannot understand about the countryside,” Tobias laughed. “The vast amounts of food in supply here! Surely it is not necessary, for example, for that one sheep to eat quite so much grass. It’s revolting really.” He pointed to a lean looking ewe, munching a clump of clover. “And the food, even in the fine establishments in Lanolin, so very…rich! And creamy! It turns the stomach.”
Emerald felt her smile fading. Perhaps he was not quite so fond as she’d been hoping.
“Well,” she said, quickening her pace. “I did not know that the King’s City found us ‘country folk’ so gluttonous. I shall certainly have to watch my figure if I am ever invited to court!”
Tobias ran to catch up, his face confused.
“Miss La Verte! I am terribly sorry if I have offended you! I assure you, you need not watch your figure – I have been watching it myself and it is quite fine.” He flushed and gulped. “I mean to say, you are quite lovely and I am sure do not eat as much as an animal would.”
Emerald could not help but giggle at his efforts. She slowed her pace and took his arm when it was offered.
As they approached Emerald’s cottage, the late afternoon sun bathing the scene in a golden glow, Tobias stopped and looked fervently at Emerald.
“I cannot tell you how much I have enjoyed this day, Miss La Verte,” he said. “Tomorrow I must return to the King’s City, where many duties await me. But I shall endeavor to return in no less than a fortnight. Indeed – every fortnight, if I may!” He pressed her hand to his lips, then, with great effort, released it, bowed and walked away.
Emerald watched him go. What a fine gentleman, and what a fine day! She hummed to herself, her steps light as she walked up the path to her cottage.
A sudden feeling of dread stopped her hand on the door. She turned and looked into the nearby copse, but spied nothing amiss. She could have sworn, though…out of the corner of her eye, she’d thought she’d seen a short man, wearing the symbol of the Duke’s guard. It couldn’t be, she thought, they’re all away on the hunt.
She shrugged to herself and let herself into the cottage, leaning back against her door with a bright sigh. It wasn’t until she’d eaten, bathed, read a bit and was readying herself for bed that she realized she hadn’t found out a thing about the mysterious letter! Somehow now, though, it didn’t seem quite so important. Whatever it pertained to, she was sure it would be resolved, and anyway, it had little bearing on her! It seemed that, at last, nothing could shake her hopefulness.
Poor Emerald was wrong again.
