Innkeeper, and went their way with the understanding they would pay on their return. Before they left, the black Fardy pulled the Innkeeper aside and whispered:
“You will travel to Eden with the news, then? Be wary on your way, for one of our ships saw
The Innkeeper nodded and the Fardys left. Willard, however, had to wait while the Innkeeper reckoned his account.
“Two beds for the night, and for breakfast a bite – of plentiful stock from the downs; dear sir, it comes to three crowns.”
Willard paid the liberal price from the thieves’ purse and bid the odd man farewell. The Innkeeper returned it full force, holding his overwrought features tight beneath his bushy eyebrows. With their faces to the east, the two resumed their journey. The forest was lawless in those times, ruled only by its own edicts: power over weakness and strength over justice. The Inn was a small oasis amidst the desert of civilization that was the forest, but it could not hold back the tide of trees which pressed upon it with ever increasing pressure. As soon as the road bent away, therefore, the insecurity of the forest returned.
Only a short, trampled grass marked the road, while on either side loomed a cross-section of the forest. The trees were mighty towers and kept watch over the scarce undergrowth, a cloud of purple wildflowers that spread across the ground. Rather than travel in a straight line, the road wound through the forest to avoid the trees, which were too large to be cut down for a mere path. Yet, also because of their size, the trees were spaced at least twenty feet apart, and the forest was naturally open.
Willard and Horatio had abandoned their hunting formation, and now walked side by side. The inn set them to civilization, and led them to think themselves in safety. But the forest was never safe, and a shriek of horror, coming from south, reminded them of their danger.
Willard had drawn his sword before its ringing passed away. “Mind yourself, Horatio, for there is danger afoot! Fall back to the forest and hide yourself.”
The bear obeyed and in a moment was invisible in the forest, though close enough to join Willard’s side in an instant. Willard, meanwhile, stood in the middle of the road with his sword in a defensive position, waiting for something to happen. But nothing did. The scream was alone, and nothing followed it but the songs of birds. A moment passed, and Willard replaced his sword onto his belt. Just as he did, however, a noosed rope was thrown from a tree to the south, catching his arm and pulling itself tight.
“Remain,” he whispered to Horatio, and grabbed the rope with his forest hands. His feet bit the ground, and he pulled the rope toward him with tree-limb strength. Three men tumbled out of the tree, revealing a platform fifteen feet above the ground.
“Forward, Horatio,” and the bear came up.
Willard, meanwhile, had drawn his sword once more and freed himself from the rope. Then, before the three men could recover themselves, he charged them and raised his blade to strike.
“Why do you harass me? Speak, fools, or I will kill you.”
“We are followers of Alfonzo of Melborough,” and they hesitated to see his reaction to the name, but saw none. “We have word that you attacked Lord Milada and so can guess your partisan feelings. Slay us if you must, but you yourselves will not last long in that case.”
“Longer than you, at least,” and Willard menaced them with his sword.
“Let them go!” a voice cried from the forest.
Willard turned his head but not his sword. The voice came from a noble man with a lofty forehead and a short, pointed goatee. His hair was tied back in a single ponytail, his eyes large and perfectly spaced between his temples, though too near the bridge of his nose.
“Let them go,” the man repeated. “You have a mark against you, but kill them and add three.”
“So I have heard,” was Willard’s reply. “And yet we are in the forest, where the only voice of authority is the voice of strength. As it is, I reign over you; and if you would give ultimatums, first reveal the force which backs them. Otherwise, I despise you.”
“Wretched brute!” the man moaned, “Is this what infests our forest, the scourge of our castles? No, I am not weak,” and he whistled.
Twenty armed men revealed themselves from hidden posts around the road. On the platform, several archers came through the veil of the trees.
“So you see, I am not to be despised.”
“Perhaps, but these men are cowards, and cowards do not palpitate my heart.”
“Cowards? Say the word and they will give proof to the contrary. Why are they cowards?”
“Cowards or villains, either way – but to me, the two are equal. A strong man does not harass the weakest, and a multitude does not plunder the minority. To do so shows weakness of spirit, and that is a weakness of strength. I have heard the scream of a single man, and is he not held by your men? Thus, I say they are cowards.”
As Willard spoke, he leapt at Alfonzo of Melborough, brandishing his sword above his head. The latter, however, had his own sword drawn and repulsed the attack with a simple sidestep, leaving Willard to his right. But Willard pivoted on his left foot and threw himself across Alfonzo’s front. Their swords met again, crossing between them. They grappled for a moment, then each stepped back, unable to overcome the other.
“You are not weak, in body at least,” Alfonzo said, “But your mind I still doubt. Look about you: you are outnumbered greatly.”
“I have overcome such odds before,” and Willard drove forward with a series of blows, each of which Alfonzo parried while retreating into the forest. It seemed at first that Willard took the advantage, yet the forest was filled with Alfonzo’s men.
“You allude to the assault on Milada. Yet while you escaped, so did he,” Alfonzo fell back.
“Indeed, and I am pleased in that,” Willard said.
Alfonzo probed Willard, and weighed the meaning of his words. Willard bravely returned the look, but as he did Alfonzo tripped him and he tumbled to the ground. He was not used to fighting creatures who could do such things. Alfonzo bound his hands before he could recover, then helped him to his feet, standing him against a tree. He paced before him for a moment, distracted, then suddenly stopped before Willard. He took his hand and struck his cheek with an open fist. Willard was enraged, but conquered his anger and did not add to his injury with insult.
“That was for the ambush involving Milada of Erlich,” Alfonzo said with a sharp smile.
“Then you mean to revenge the noble looking man? He would have lived, had he known to respect authority.”
“A fitting epitaph, traveler, and perhaps one which will soon find its way onto your own tombstone.”
“A man of the forest needs no marker but his own bones, to adorn the earth where he is buried.”
“And are you a man of the forest, monk? Yet your sword is honored by your skills with it.” Alfonzo took Willard’s sword from the ground, and held it up to the light. “Tell me, wild peasant, from whom did you steal this sword?”
“From no one.”
“From a grave, then? These markings are from the royal house of Plantagenet.” He tried to pierce Willard with his eyes, but Willard’s gave a sharp riposte. They struggled for a moment, then Alfonzo retreated. “You seem more than a petty grave thief, Willard, or else I would slay you here and now. I was once tutor to the youthful Prince Willarinus Plantagenet, and for any man to wield his sword and mock his name in so doing invokes my wrath. Yet I will allow you to live, for you do not know what you do. If you did, my curse would find its end in you.”
“You are an outlaw and a vagabond, even if once an attendant to a noble house. How is it that you can call curses upon any head but your own?”
“For fifteen years I have made my home in this wilderness, battling the corruption of our fair land; fifteen grueling, forsaken years filled with hardship and loneliness, undertaken willingly in penance for my sins. How much of an eternity is needed to be forgiven?”
“Time is not forgiveness. And philanthropy does not use the wealth of another. Lord Milada, whom I rescued from your fellow bandits, was he an evil man?”
Alfonzo paused. “Your lies almost deceive me, with your flawless delivery. Yet I know the ways of deceit, and I know it was you that attacked Milada. I have word directly from Hismoni, the captain of the guards.”
