The rain let up midday and a patch of blue sky came to be in the clouds. My boots squelched in the softer mud in the side of the road as I stepped around the puddles that formed in the ruts of the winding path. The air warmed as the sun started shining and a great arcing rainbow formed across the skies.

At that moment I wished I had taken the time to learn the skills of a painter. There was a sense of idyllic silence that hung in the air. It was shattered by a warrior’s cry of battle. It was nearby just around the bend of the road.

I quickened my pace and standing at the side of the road with a tree at his back was a younger man. He was wearing the uniform of the king’s armies. A simple padded affair dyed in rich purples and blues. Chainmail shirt reaching halfway down his thighs and just past his elbows. A shaking sword was gripped in both his hands as his eyes flickered back and forth. The stink of fear water through the air.

As his eyes swept across me they stopped and he turned until he faced me. The shaking in his arms and hands worsened and I could hear the rattling of his chainmail. “You’re one of them! Stay back!”

I raised my hands into the air and spoke soothingly and quietly. “One of who?”

A note of anger crept in his voice, “You’re a southerner! Snuck into these lands from Gharnil. A scout to stop me!” His knees bent as if he was about to lunge at me.

With a slow step back I tapped the pouch on my hip. “I have royal letters to deliver to the capital. I’m no scout, I’m a bard. I weave song and story. Please, lower your blade so we can discuss this without fear of you slaying me.”

“P-p-play me a song then bard! The tawdry bar wench! That’s a soldier’s song from these lands. Play it or I’ll slay you.”

I kneeled, pulling my lute’s case from my shoulders and opened it slowly. I pulled out the precious instrument and stood. A quick and jaunty tune started to sing from my hand’s movements.

“Oh Ho, I need a pint! Wash this dust from my mouth! I call the tawdry wench!

Her rear is plump and her tits spill out! The lovely tawdry wench!

I tell the lass of my deeds! She spills my drink across my lap! The clumsy tawdry wench!

She pulls a rag from her hips and rubs my lap and blushes fiercely! The shy tawdry wench!

As I grow she says “What a big guy!” Looking up at me! The steamy tawdry wench!

I grab her hand! We step outside! A kiss so fierce her breath runs out! The wanting tawdry wench!

In the alley I bend her over, her rump so full and wanting! Before we start she yells four bits! The needy tawdry wench!

I pump her full with my seed! She screams my name and the boys all laugh! The shaking tawdry wench!

I give her coins and spank her arse! Where’s my drink I say to her! The forgetting tawdry wench!

She laughs and gets me ale! I wash the dirt from my throat and cheers the men! The working tawdry wench!

Oh Ho, I need a pint! To fill my balls and set me right! The lovely tawdry wench!”

I give the lute a hard strum as I finish the song and look at the soldier. “I can sing it again if you want.”

He lowered his sword slowly as he calmed down. I heard him singing under his breath halfway through the song, “their one god is a prude. A southerner would never sing that song.”

I lowered my lute down and put it away. I pulled it back around my back standing slowly still. “Now, I’m Dolan Talespinner. What’s your name?”

The soldier sheathed his blade, “Richard, squire of Sir Reginald. I have to move quickly. I just could have sworn upon the gods that I was being followed.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“What happened to a horse? A pigeon?”

“A spy poisoned and killed all our pigeons. The southern border is being attacked. I… I saw so many killed by arrows. Sir Reginald called a retreat to the hold. Oh god, we killed the peasants to make the food last. The peasants in the hold. A siege was happening. The king will understand…” Richard stared at his hands as they began to shake once more. “In the night I slipped away to run to the next hold and ask for their pigeons to use.” Tears rolled down his dirty cheeks

I stepped cautiously and touched his shoulder gently. He startled greatly and looked around for danger. “I’m headed in the same direction. You seem to need some company. When’s the last time you ate?”

His licked dry lips and his eyes went a little vacant. “I don’t remember.”

I pulled out some dried jerky and handed him my water skin. Greedily he scarfed it down with groans of relief coming from him. Richard choked and chugged water. “Slow, you’ve got a message to tell. Don’t choke on food.”

Richard wiped his mouth and slowed his chewing with a nod. With a full mouth he spoke, “You’re a saint.” Soon he swallowed and sighed, he was huffing for a moment. “I can’t remember the direction I was going.”

I squeezed his shoulder gently and guided him along the path. “As I said, I’m headed there too. I was asked to deliver some messages on my way to the capital. Here, let’s walk together.”

His legs were a little shaky from weariness and a distinct lingering fear. I heard him praying to the gods under his breath. Asking forgiveness.

“Tell me what happened Richard. It’ll make it easier when you report it to someone else.” I kept my voice soothing and steady as he shuddered again with fear.

“We were doing our weekly drills in the field when they fell upon us. I was with the pikeman and we ran to the flanks to protect everyone. Horses, they were swifter than any I had seen with men with short bows. Gods, Gerald took an arrow straight through the eye next to me.” He touched his cheek as if he felt the splatter of hot blood once more. “My helmet got knocked off and I fell down dazed. Sir Reginald, he dragged me to my feet and sounded a retreat. Our archers were able to ward off the advances of the Calvary. So many footmen were lost.” He grew quiet as his eyes shimmered with tears.

I rubbed his back through the chainmail, “You’re doing great Richard. You can do this.”

“We found the pigeons were all dead, foaming at the mouth with poison. Not a single one survived the spy. We caught him and all he had to say for himself was that our lands are gonna know to fear the true god. Sir Reginald cut his head off.” Richard began to shake harder. “So many peasants retreated into the walls. The food stocks were low from the winter. His eyes darted around as he stopped and shuddered heavily. “Reginald, Sir Reginald gave us an order. Kill them so our forces could last as long as possible through the siege. Oh gods,” He stared at his hands and tears flowed more heavily. His eyes locked with mine and they begged forgiveness, “I killed them. Cut them down, cut down the innocents.”

As he shook I pulled his shoulder tight against me. “You were ordered, Richard. I know it’s hollow words but the blood is on Sir Reginald.”

We walked slowly as he shook and wept, “I hadn’t thought about it while I was running. I’m just so tired. The gods won’t forgive me. Who could?”

I squeezed him tightly. “I will forgive you. If that means anything.”

Richard pushed away and wiped at his face before drinking more water. His legs steadied as we walked, his breathing getting more regulated. “Thank you for the gesture but no offense I just met you. Hopefully the king will forgive us.”

I nodded as we lapsed into silence. Every few minutes Richard would jump at a sound from the woods around us. His hand gripped his sword until his knuckles were white.

“How about we sing together? Or I’ll tell you a tale as we walk. Would that soothe your nerves?” I offered lightly.

Richard startled at my words after we had lapsed into silence with his sword half drawn. His chest heaved with the sudden jolt. “Uhh, a song perhaps. Yes, let’s sing another song. Another bar song. Gerald would sing Oh Ye Traveling Bard. You know it?”

I hummed the tune a little and he nodded, “You’re the bard you lead the song.”

I opened my mouth and with as much grace I sang the song I had written about myself so long ago.

“Oh Ye traveling bard! Sing me a story! Tell me about the elves! Oh ye traveling bard.

Tell us of their forests old! The monsters that tower high! Elven cities so of nature. Oh ye traveling bard.

Oh ye traveling bard! Sing me a story! Tell me about the dwarves! Oh ye traveling bard.

Tell us of mountains large! The mines that go deep in the earth! Their brews sure are strong. Oh ye traveling bard.

Oh ye traveling bard! Sing me a story! Tell me of heroes old! Oh ye traveling bard.

The wielders of the sword! Their mighty felling swings! The strength of a dozen men! Oh ye traveling bard.

Oh ye traveling bard!”

We went on like that repeating dozens of verses long ingrained into the world. Richard’s mood was light and he was distracted from the horrors of the recent past.

As the song finished the sun was low and it was time to set up camp. I loaned Richard my bedroll and helped strip him of the chainmail. To lessen the weight of his shoulders. He was asleep moments after a light meal of dried foods and water.

Then came the screaming. He tossed and turned violently. His thrashing limbs growing close to the fire. I acted quickly and pulled him farther from the flames. As I held him he quieted. He whispered apologies in his sleep. I stroked his hair like many parents do to troubled children.

I sang a wordless lullaby to him and his movements stilled. His sleep deepened his breaths becoming great lungfuls and a quiet snoring from exhaustion. Every time I went to leave his nightmares returned so that night I held him like a child. No one deserved nights of torment.