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(I did an interactive story on the prior forum.  I'd like to try it again, if any of you are interested.  Here goes!)

A maiden walked over to a post and stood by it.  It announced TOWNE OF BEADE, and was, in fact, the entrance to the village.  She was dressed in a long green dress and was bareheaded, it being summer.
"Good day, my lady," she heard a friendly male voice say.
Turning to where it came from, she saw a beggar.  Being a beggar, he was dirty and dishevelled.  In fact, he was sitting in the middle of a rather large mud puddle, and he was covered with it.

Frowning, the young woman turned away from the filthy beggar and went back to watching the cart path in front of her.  She knew that her parents would be coming along any minute in their wagon and she didn't want them to find her engaged in conversation with the likes of him.  Edwina's family was not a welathy one, they were one step up from the poor peasants who worked their fields, but she knew how her father would react to her talking to a stranger, especially one covered in mud and begging by the side of the road.  Besides, she had more important things to think about; like the shopping that she and her mother would be doing in Beade and the exotic foods to be found at the stalls along the main road through town!  It seemed like years since she had bought a new necklace or tasted the candies that she knew she would find there!

Devlin sat in the cart behind his parents as they jostled down the road to the village. All the wool contracted last fall had just been delivered. The extra bales of wool had also brought a nice price at the wool market. Now they were headed into the village for the Faire. His sister Edwina had begged to spend the day with her friend Sarafina. Of course their indulgent father had agreed as long as the two girls stayed together. At twenty winters, Devlin was a strapping lad with dark hair and black eyes. He was a great contrast to his petite sister with her strawberry blonde hair and freckles. When the cart rattled to a stop, Devlin was surprised to see his sister standing alone beside the road. He looked around for Sarafina, but only saw a beggar sitting under the sign that proclaimed the boundary of the village of Beade.

Edwina breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the family team and wagon top the rise. The beggar hadn't pestered her but at times he would stare at her in a baldly oafish way that made her uncomfortable. Still, with all the wagons and people headed to faire, this was the best place to be seen by her family. They'd spotted her already and were beginning to pull up. She stepped forward and heard slopping and wallowing sounds behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw with horror that the mud beggar had risen and extended an arm as though expecting to help her into the wagon. Her father came to rescue.

"Ho there! I'll see my daughter up myself, I will." He quickly jumped down and placed himself between Edwina and the beggar. "You're in no state to be lending a hand to ladies."

"True. My apologies, good sir." He sloshed back a step but kept talking. "May I introduce myself. I am Prince Walter, fifth son of King Rupert." He bowed.

Meanwhile Edwina had mounted the wagon nimbly and seated herself beside her mother. As her father remounted, he humored the sot. "How did you happen to end up in a mud hole, Prince Walter?"

The beggar got a wistful look in his eye. "It all began with an epiphany."

"Oh, that sounds bad," fluttered Edwina's mother. "I hope it's not catching!" She pulled Edwina closer to her.

As he slapped the reins, her father called out, "There's a doctor in town may be able to help with that. Good day to ya."

"And then my horse threw me," mumbled Walter to himself more than anyone. That was like a second epiphany for him. He'd never been thrown before, had always considered himself something of a natural horseman yet the nag he'd chosen from the stable had been thoroughly difficult. He'd been so stunned when she shied, landing him in the puddle, that he hadn't seen where she'd gotten to in the crowd. Then the young woman had stepped out of the traffic and it seemed most important to appreciate her simple, innocent loveliness, like a field flower, making no great claims of beauty yet bright and fresh and full of life, completely without courtly articfice or restraint and not yet beaten down by women's work. And that seemed like an epiphany as well, that there should be such a type of woman with a window of time when she was without any sort of mask. He'd always wanted to have an epiphany and now he'd had 3 in 24 hrs. Surely that meant acting on the first one, which led him to demand the clothes of a stable hand and the use of a dray horse to go out disguised as a peasant among his people, was the right thing to do.

As the Taylors pulled away from the hapless muddy figure, Edwina's mother scolded, "What were you doing there all alone?!"

"I wasn't alone, Mother! People are everywhere!"

"You know what I mean. Where is Sarafina? You shouldn't have been left alone."

"She caught a ride when her uncle passed by. I knew you'd be along shortly so I waited for you. It was just a moment."  It was a harmless lie. She was able to take care of herself and the whole morning had been a ruse so Sarafina could take care of some personal business that meddling parents didn't need to know about.

"And you see what can happen in 'just a moment,' young lady. It doesn't take a second for some undesirable to take an unhealthy interest in you!"

"A prince," piped in Devlin from the rear.

"Not right in the head for certain but he seemed harmless enough," said her father.

"Not all sots are," her mother asserted. "She was lucky this time but it's best we don't allow a second."

"He was kind of chubby for a beggar," commented Devlin idly.

"Some are newer to the profession than others," said Mr. Taylor.

Edwina Taylor and her mother got down from the cart at the church doorstep.

"You boys run along" Anna Taylor told her husband and son. She and Edwina unloaded the mutton pies that were to be the family's contribution. Before the men left, she admonished them "Be sure and come back early for the supper. You know I would rather have us all sit together in this great crowd."

"Yes'm" was Matthew's reply as he flicked the reins to urge the team forward.

Devlin's thoughts returned to the beggar in the mud. "Pa" he asked "Is it possible that man was really a Prince?"

Matthew gave his son a sideways look before he answered "Lookee sons, Princes have lots o' of people to see to them. Some folks would say it's like herding wayward lambs. They has people to wake them up in the morning and follow them around all day just waiting to see if they needs anything. No Prince is going to find himself alone in the mud aside the road."

He waited to see if Devlin absorbed this explanation. Devlin made no comment, so his father continued "'Sides, his clothes were older and more worn than my working clothes. No Prince would even put such things on."

Devlin nodded to himself at the wisdom of his father's statements. When they came to a stop, the sheepdog trials were already in progress. As Devlin scanned the crowd for any of his friends, all thought of the beggar prince was driven from his mind. Matthew Taylor tied the cart up alongside a dozen others and joined the older men lining the fence of the sheep pen. Devlin spotted his friend Thomas and went to see him before it was the other boy's turn in the ring.

"Thomas, my friend!" Devlin said, clapping his mate on the back in greeting, "how goes the contest?"

Thomas, only five months younger than Devlin, but a good ten inches shorter and much smaller in stature, started at the friendly pat on the back.  Though the gesture had truly been meant as a friendly greeting, the force of Devlin's pat caused Thomas to stumble forward a few steps.

"Wha-?" stammered Thomas, "Oh, hello, Devlin.  I didn't see you.  The contest goes well enough, I suppose.  I think that big black over there may be the winner.  I'm not sure Molly will do as well as he did."

As he spoke, Thomas looked down at his dog, a two year old, black and white mixed breed who he dearly loved.  The two boys knelt and began petting and scratching the dog and it was obvious that she loved every minute of the attention.

"She's a fine dog, Thomas.  She may be smaller than some but she's so much smarter than most of these other dogs.  And she loves herding sheep; I've seen her when you were working her.  She seems to know as much about handling sheep as you do!"

Devlin smiled at his friend and then looked back down at the happy dog.  Thomas beamed with pride as he rubbed her stomach and chest.  It was obvious that his dog was one of the most important things in his life.  She had some to him from a litter of pups that a neighbor's dog had whelped.  A farm can only have so many dogs and the neighbor had given away all but one of the pups.  Devlin, who had grown up tending a flock, saw something in Molly, even when she was young, and had confidence that she would grow into a good sheep dog.  He had been right.

"Where's your family?" asked Thomas.

"You mean 'where's Edwina', don't you, my friend?"

Thomas reddened as Devlin smiled wide.  It was well known between these young men that Thomas had an eye for Devlin's sister.  Devlin would have been happy to see Thomas wed to his sister but he knew that the girl would never look twice at his friend.

Devlin thought that his sister was nothing but a dreamer; Edwina envisioned herself married to the son of a wealthy merchant or being swept off her feet by a wandering knight errant, out to find a bride as he won his spurs.  Devlin believed that Edwina needed to change her ways; he wished that she would fall in love with someone, someone like Thomas.

The two young men were interrupted by a loud voice calling out for the next entrant.

"Thomas of Bartram Farm!  Come forward with your dog, Molly!"

Rupert liked to call his sons to stand before him at least once a week. Otherwise, he hardly saw them these days.  Standing at attention now were four of his sons, in a row eldest to youngest: Hector, Bernard, Reuben, Quentin.

"Where is Walter?"

"Library," volunteered Hector.

"Library," seconded Bernard.

"Garden," countered Quentin.

"Maybe he's been kidnaped," suggested Reuben.

This was a guessing game the boys played whenever one of their siblings was late. Rupert waived a dismissive hand at Reuben. He had almost as much imagination as Walter, though it tended toward the martial. Rupert made a mental note to start looking at likely matches for his 3rd son some quiet backwater. He had made a vow to his own father, who had brought peace to this land at great cost, that he would maintain that peace so long as he lived. So it had been and he wouldn't let a youngster who thought he had something to prove upset good relations with his neighbors, especially as a result of empty drama.

"Who's keeping track of Walter these days?" He asked his sons. The boy was so bookish an habit-bound it was not a proper post for a fit man-at-arms, so it tended to rotate among oldsters and squires in disfavor. In truth, some of his daughters were harder to look after than Walter."I believe it is Sir Alfred who has taken up the task,my lord",replied Hector. "Hmm? well then have the man summoned here, now" replied the king, as a page left in haste to do as the king bid.Sir Alfred was an old man, he had been a Sargent at arms for his father,the man had been wounded severely in the fighting that had won the peace his father had worked so hard to bring about,and had walked with a limp and aid of a cane all of Rupert's days.He had helped train Rupert when he was young himself, he had knighted the man himself, some five years back in recognition of all his years of faithful service to his family.

While he waited for old Alfred, he listened to his son's accounts of their lessons and activities of the past week,when finally the page returned with the aged knight in tow."My lord", spoke Alfred as he made his best effort at a bow."Yes, yes", spoke the king, "what is the news of my son?" "Not good, my king, the last report that I had was he was last seen on the west road leading into town, he had taken a nasty fall from his horse, possible knocking some of the sense out of him." "As his page rode off to catch his horse and return it to him he reported that the Prince had wandered off into the crowd and could not be found"."I have ordered a search, but have not had any luck mustering much of a turn out as it is the opinion of the captain of the house hold guard that the prince will turn up soon or later." "What? this will not do!" spoke the king,"take the princes and their escorts and begin a search now." "Send for the captain of the guard!" said the king to the page with more aggravation then he intended in his voice.As the page rushed past, Sir Alfred and the princes turned to leave."Oh and while you are at it", said the king to Sir Alfred,"try not to lose anymore of my sons, while I am blessed to have five of them, I cherish each of them in their own right." With an obvious blush of embarrassment, all the old knight could say was, "I will do my best, my lord", as he spun around to leave in great haste.

Walter gazed after the wagon as it mingled with others and the people on foot and the beasts being led and finally had to admit he felt intimidated by all the people and activity. He'd participated in feasts and ceremonies and parades and balls, many of which involved more people than this town held. Yet he always had a role to play in those, a place prepared. This seemed so chaotic.

And he was not likely to get a friendly response from anyone covered in mud. So, he decided, I'll walk the periphery and let the sun dry my cloths. Then I can brush the worst of it off. He was proud of himself for having such a practical thought.

He set off to his right, strolling behind the backs of stores. That quickly gave way to cottage gardens and then to some larger residences with room enough for some livestock and a manger.

"Stop it, Calvin," he heard from one such manger. A woman's voice, insistent. Could be chastising a brother or a laborer, he thought. He walked past.

"I said NO!" The sound of ruffling.

Not good. Walter stopped. She sounded strong. Maybe this Calvin would listen or she would extricate herself. He had a well-developed conscience but no desire to play hero. Couldn't really. He'd never been very coordinated. Where was everyone else who might intervene?

He heard the sound of a struggle and steeled himself for a confrontation. He had but to slip through a pair of rails and step into the open stall to see the woman disheveled but still clothed in a pile of hay, pinned by a brawny lad. They looked to be at a draw. Walter mustered his most authoritative voice. "In the name of the King! Unhand that woman!

The young man flipped half around while keeping a tight hold on the young woman. Upon seeing who addressed him, he replied, "Bug off nutter! This is none of your business!"

"Protecting the weak is part of my business. I am Prince Walter, 5th son of King Rupert," he stated, the last part without much conviction recalling how little effect it had on the young woman and her family.

"Weak?! She's practically my wife."

"Let GO, Calvin! We came here to discuss eloping, not this."

"Let go of her," Walter said, feeling solidly in the right after what she'd said, but also feeling a bit weak in the knees.

"Get out!" the knave yelled, throwing a handful of dirt and hay up at Walter's face. He dodged it easily and surprised himself by grabbing a rake and getting a good whack on Calvin's wrist at the same time the girl leaned away, giving Calvin a kick in the calf. She was free and fled, but Calvin was in a red-faced fury.

"You idiot!" he bellowed as he charged Walter. Walter brought up the rake handle to block him but the youth grabbed it and used it to pull Walter into his punch. Walter saw stars and toppled.

"Worthless dung heap!" he head above him. Two sharp kicks in the ribs actually helped clear his head. He brought his arms up to cover it but Calvin's anger was at an end. He heard the knave stomp off.

Walter relaxed and lay there a few minutes feeling weak. The point of the fist's impact was still numb but his nose throbbed.  He realized he had fallen in animal leavings and resolved to get up. He raised himself to a sitting position easily but it made him dizzy and a little nauseated.

"Are you okay?" It was the young woman's voice.

"I thought you'd left," Walter mumbled.

"I'm not a complete coward. I'm decent enough to check back on someone who's helped me."

She knelt in front of him. Her dark hair was full of hay. She fixed him with eyes that were both blue and green in a penetrating stare.

"Are you really a prince?"

"Yes, I am."

She nodded.

"You believe me?" he asked in surprise.

"Sure."

"Why?" It seemed to him he exhibited even less evidence than during his first declaration.

"You fight like a prince."

"No," objected Walter, "no, you should see my brothers. They're excellent fighters."

"And no one around here talks like that around here. Not even crazy people."

"Like what?"

"Unhand that woman! Protecting the weak!" She imitated Walter's tone and could not suppress a giggle.

Walter cracked a smile. He couldn't recall ever enjoying being mocked so much. "Did I really sound so ridiculous?"

"Yes, but I bless you for it and for all you did. Now let me help you up. We both need to get cleaned up."

"May I ask your name?"

"Sarafina," she said with a blush.

  The heat from the communal oven behind the church seemed as hot as the Smithy's forge to Edwina. She was using a long wooden paddle to remove the fresh baked loaves when she was startled by Sarafina's face popping up beside her. The second think that startled her was Sarafina's disheveled appearance.

"What on God's green earth happened to you?" Edwina questioned in a whisper.

"Um" Sarafina replied "It is a long tale that I'd rather not tell until I get cleaned up. Can you get me a couple of towels from the Rectory?"

Hastily setting aside the hot bread Edwina answered "Yes, but you better explain this to me later".

When she returned with the rags, for in reality that was all she could find, Sarafina took them from her gratefully. A sharp look from Edwina made Sarafina blush.

"Yes-es" she stammered "This is about Calvin. Our meeting did not go as I planned for it to go. I promise I'll explain later."

"I can't wait to hear this" Edwina retorted.

Sarafina crept out from where she had hidden between the oven and the woodpile. She found Walter still hidden in the bushes where she had left him.

"We'll go to the river and wash" she told him "Every will be at the church or down at the sheep pens" She gave him a critical eye and added "You better go in and wash your clothes also. They are pretty ripe".

As far as Sarafina was concerned, she was lucky that she only needed to wash was her face and hands. A good brushing rid her hair of the clinging hay. Following her suggestion Walter plunged right into the dark blue-black water of the river. When he came up shouting and spluttering, Sarafina could not help but laugh.

"You didn't tell me the water was freezing cold!" Walter shouted "I have never bathed in cold water in my life".

Forcing her face into a serious expression, Sarafina called to him "Come here and lay down on the grass. The sun will soon warm and dry you".


Meanwhile at the sheep dog trials Thomas had finished his turn in the ring. He and Molly were both breathing heavy when they trotted out of the fence. The young men waiting their turns all took time to shake his hand and congratulate him on Molly's performance.

One in the crowd commented "Some day Molly will take all the prizes Like Grandma Pickens and her Stormy".

Thomas replied with a grin "Don't hex me now. It's bad luck to say such things."

The crowd turned away as the next name was called, so he went in search of Devlin. His friend was not far away. His broad smile was evidence enough for Thomas that Molly had done well against the other sheepdogs.

"Shall I stand us a round of Ale?" Devlin asked.

"No need to ask twice" Thomas answered as he started towards Beade's single tavern.

The dim light inside the tavern caused the two boys a moment of blindness as they stepped through the door. There were not many people inside but Devlin's heart sank when he saw Calvin Wilson hunched over a corner table. Then he noticed that Calvin was drinking with his left hand.

Alfred sat in his saddle looking around as the young princes and their escorts began mounting up. There were nine total in their group, he thought absent mindedly as he began to think of the best way to conduct their search.He heard the church bell tolling as it marked the hour and the idea that time was slipping away from him occurred as well.

"Listen up lads, this is how I intend for us to conduct the most effective search I can think of", he said in his best command voice. Which might have seemed awkward to most knights, giving commands to Princes, even young ones such as these but Alfred was special in that regard.His service to his King was differant then that of most knights,he was as much a guardian and teacher to these young Princes as he was a man at arms. He had the King's trust in that, though this present crisis no doubt was testing that trust sorely.

"It is my intention to cover as much ground as quickly and thoroughly as possible without any duplication of effort, to do so we will split up into four groups,each covering a direction of the compass." "We will start from the church and each group will report back to me there at the church each hour when you hear the church bell toll the hour,when any group looks to have found a lead as to where your brother maybe, then we can focus the others there to concentrate and provide a complete search of that area." 'If there are no questions, let us ride then to the church in haste", he looked around at all present and it appeared that each of them understood what was expected of them."Good, then let us begin" he said as he wheeled his horse around and broke into a gallop the others falling in behind him, riding in the direction of the church.

The prince had decided he preferred to walk while drying. He'd told Sarafina in lots of fancy language why he was out dressed in a stable hand's cloths. What she understood of it was that he was curious about how other people lived. It had slowly sunk in that she had come to be on friendly terms, however briefly, with a prince, and that she should find a way to take advantage of it. What she wanted to do was present him to Edwina, who had always high ideas about royalty and being swept off her feet by a prince. Now here was Sarafina, rescued, clumsily but still rescued, by a prince that Edwina would never believe was a prince because he didn't look at all like her dream. Walter looked much more the way Sarafina had always expected royalty to look: soft, pale and dreamy. If she could just get him dressed more respectably, she could show him to her friend and win in three ways. She would have a moment of lording her new acquaintance over a stunned Edwina. She would have the pleasure of giving her friend a taste of her friend by turning Walter over to her. And she would have a told-you-so moment because Walter was proof that her version of royalty was the correct one, not Edwina's. But where to find the clothes and how to get him into them? When she'd suggested to him that he might return to the palace and come back as a proper prince, he would have none of it. His curiosity wasn't satisfied yet despite the purpling, swelling cheek he kept fingering tenderly.

"What do people eat?," asked Walter.

"What?," said Sarafina, "What do you mean, 'what do people eat?'  Prince though you may be, you are 'people,' too!"

"Oh, I know, I know; I guess I meant what do people who do not live in a castle eat?"  Walter was very careful not to use words like "commoners" or "peasants" or even "townspeople."  He was afraid that saying something like that might offend this young woman who had befriended him.  And it was at that moment that he realized that Sarafina was treating him the way that friends treated each other.

Walter had never had a friend before; brothers, yes; servants, yes; but never a real friend.  He liked the feeling that he got when she helped him and when they talked.  She was obviously trying to think of ways to take care of him and that made him feel strange inside.  Other people, servants mostly, did things for him out of a sense of duty or fear.  This girl was being nice to him because she . . . well, he couldn't think of why.

He even liked the way that she joked with him, cajoling him about his clothes smelling and about the way he looked.  His brothers would sometimes belittle him for his failings and that felt totally different from the way Sarafina's jokes felt.  Even if they were at his expense, there was a completely different tone than when his brothers made fun of him.  Maybe that was the difference – Sarafina was "having" fun with him and his brothers were "making" fun of him. 

If this was how it felt to have a friend, someone who liked and respected you, someone who treated you like a real person and not a prince, then he decided that having friends was a good thing!

"Oh, well, you mean, 'what do you peasants eat'?" Sarafina said with a shocked look on her face.

"No, no, not like that," said Walter, "I was very careful not to say 'commoner' or 'peasant' . . ."

Sarafina burst into laughter.  Walter, realizing that she was once again joking with him, bloomed red in embarrassment but smiled as he looked down at the ground; once again, Sarafina was treating him like a friend, not like a prince.

"Yes, I suppose it is getting on toward supper time.  We still need to come up with some way to find you some better clothes but we'd best get something to eat first."

Walter and Sarafina had come to the edge of a large field.  The open area was full of colorful tents and people milling about.  Sarafina looked for familiar faces, people from Beade, but all she saw were strangers.  This was obviously a camping spot for the travelers from surrounding villages and farms.  With all that had been going on so far this day, the Faire taking place in the village had slipped from her mind.

She thought of all of the different stalls there would be – merchants from far, far away would be set up to sell everything under the sun.  There would be food vendors and leather workers and poetry makers and  . . . even people selling clothing!  Not only would she be able to get food for the prince, they might even be able to buy him some decent clothes.

Sarafina turned to Walter: "Have you ever been to a Faire?"

  The sun hung low in the sky as the villagers made their way to the church. More than a few of the men came from the tavern. The women had worked hard all afternoon and platters of steaming mutton vied for space on the trestle with roasted chickens and other dishes. Devlin followed Thomas down the line in order to keep an eye on him. His dog Molly had taken the prize for dogs in their first showing. A long afternoon of congratulations had left Thomas a little unsteady on his feet. Compared to Calvin Wilson however, Thomas was a model of sobriety. The larger and older boy walked as if he had suddenly grown and extra pair of feet. After their plates were full, Devlin steered his friend towards the table where the Bartram family sat. Thomas father helped his son to sit down with a knowing grin on his face "I well remember my first time at the trials." He told Devlin "I was much worse".

  Devlin had just turned away from Master Bartram when the sight of Sarafina caught his eye. It appeared that she and Edwina had been having some sort of argument. Her hand gesturing excitedly was what had drawn his attention. Then he saw a very tall young man, dressed as a servant, emerge from the bushes. A great roar rose up behind him and as he turned in response he was knocked to the ground. He jumped back up just in time to see Calvin tackle the stranger and knock him to the ground. The two men rolled on the ground each trying to get a grip on the other. It was plain that Calvin's drunken state worked against him because he took the worst of it before the two were pulled apart.
The blacksmith held onto Calvin as he continued to rage. Cole, the village Sheriff had the stranger but released him when he ceased to struggle. The dazed Walter watched the scene in amazement. "What do you mean by such a display Calvin" the Sheriff demanded heatedly. Calvin spat out some of the blood that filled his mouth before he replied "That scoundrel has come sneaking around and has stolen my woman!" Now enraged also, Sarafina shouted "Your woman! I have no intention of being your woman or wife after what you tried in the barn!" Now everyone's attention focused on Calvin, until they were roughly shoved away by the bull size bulk of Sarafina's uncle. Hauling Calvin forward by his shirt, the huge man bellowed "Just what did you do to my niece in the barn? We all want to know."

  Sarafina blushed hotly, but she answered the question "He did not actually do anything but put his hand down my top. But he tried to make me.... Make me..." Her embarrassment finally got the better of her and she sputtered to a stop. Walter sense of gallantry made him step in at this point. "I happened along" he explained "and told that man there to release her". He fingered the bruise on his cheek and added "We had a bit of a row and he left".

"There you are, you have been busy my brother", spoke Prince Rueben as he stepped out from the crowd,Prince Hector stood beside him. "This man is your brother ?" asked Cole immediately after making a curt bow. The blacksmith's jaw dropped in suprise,"that means he's a,a... sputtered the large man."Yes, this is Prince Walter, my brother" replied the youth, "where have you been? we have searched half the town looking for you today". "I am not ready to go back yet",said Walter. "Sorry brother, it's not your choice our father the King has sent Sir Alfred and the rest of us to fetch you back",came Rueben's reply. With that Hector turned to leave with the news of them finding Walter, Alfred waited for word just around the corner.

"Now hold on there just a minute", said Cole,I am the sheriff here and before anyone leaves we need to know exactly what happened." "If in fact, this is Prince Walter, this young man here, Calvin Wilson may very well hang for having assaulted a prince. With that a gasp went up among the crowd who had collected around the group standing in the street."But, I didn't know that he was a prince!"exclaimed Calvin. "Oh, there's no need to be hanging anyone over this, it's just a misunderstanding is all, spoke the blacksmith,"besides the lads besotted,he meant no harm". "Ignorance and drink is no excuse of the law",answered the sheriff.

"Indeed", answered Sir Alfred as he stepped up and into the exchange."All of this, is indeed in the realm of the interest of the Crown, though I seriously doubt it is worthy of a hanging".Seeing the elder knight approach, and hearing his word the sheriff deferred to him. "What is it that the Crown wishes?"asked Cole. "Take written dispositions of all the accounts of what has transpired and send them to the castle,take young master Calvin into custody and await the King's word as to his fate for this lapse of better judgement,answered the Knight. "And you Prince Walter, are to come with me, your father waits".Walter, stepped over to Sarafina,"I must go, I have no choice as you have heard, but I will be back." With that the young Prince left with Alfred and his brothers.When out of earshot of the others, Sir Alfred said to Prince Walter,"fighting in the street with common drunks, you should be ashamed of yourself, I told your father that in your fall you might have lost some of your good senses, it is my belief that regardless of the matter, that might yet be your best defence."











































































'

Devlin and Sarafina converged on Edwina at the same time where she was ladling stew to the masses.

"He really was a prince, Winnie!" Devlin burst out as they drew near.

"I'm so sorry, Edwina, I meant to share him with you," added a downcast Sarafina.

"What are you two talking about?" As penance for her morning of freedom, her mother had run her ragged the entire afternoon and she was feeling cross.

"The mudbeggar! He really was a prince!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Devlin."

"No, really, he was, Edwina," confirmed Sarafina. "He's the one I needed the towels for."

Edwina's ladle hung in the air as she tried to rearrange her reality and the gentleman with his bowl extended added, "Aye, lass. There was a hubbub outside and a prince was in the midst of it."

Sarafina took the ladle from her friend and resumed the service.

"So our family snubbed a prince? I could die of embarassment. Perhaps we should leave town before we're publicly shamed for our rude behavior."

"He's not that sort of prince," said Sarafina.

"How do you mean?"

"He's not all hoity toity."

"Some of those others might do it," said Devlin. "I hate to think what will com of Cal."

"Calvin?! What does he have to do with it?"

"I'll tell you later," said Sarafina quickly.

"Why later?" said Devlin with a snicker. "Half the town already knows he jumped you."

Sarafina grabbed Devlin roughly by the collar, deftly stepped backward and shoved him into the serving line, handing him the spoon. "Here, why don't you tell the rest of them then while I talk to Edwina."

Devlin squawked a weak objection as she took her friend's elbow and steered her through the crowd twoard a door.

"What happened?" asked Edwina.

"It's involved. Let's wait til we have more privacy. How did your family snub Walter?"

After hearing a brief description of their family's encounter with the prince, Sarafina exclaimed, "You were THAT girl?!" and burst out laughing.

"What do you mean, that girl?"

"He told me he had the pleasure of watching a 'young lady' who reminded him of 'a sunrise after rain when the air is perfectly clear and fresh and the whole world is burnished with the new sun's glow.'" Sarafina swept her arms out dramatically.

"Really?" questioned Edwina, reassessing the situation yet again. "He did stare at me. I thought he was a bit dull, you know, dim-witted."

"No, just out of his element. Stunned might be a better word than dull. And it's about time someone took to admiring you." Sarafina gave her friend a big smile. "And a prince, just like you always imagined."

"Not quite how I imagined," admitted Edwina with a grin.

"No, but still a shame he disappeared so soon."

"Now tell me what went wrong with Calvin," Edwina insisted, "and then we'll console ourselves with some pretties. I've still got all my coin."

Off the girls went arm in arm into the market.

          Walter rode along, his brothers riding around him but not talking to him except to send jibes his way and tell him what a fool he had been for this misadventure.  He endured their endless harassment the way he always had: silently and stoically.  It seemed that all of his life he had either been waited upon with servile deference or made fun of with royal abuse.
   
          He couldn't help thinking about the people he had met in his short escape into anonymity.  Starting with the vision at the signpost, she of the 'burnished sunrise'; to the family that rode together and politely snubbed him; to Calvin, who he had stood up to, though at a cost, and stopped from abusing a young girl; to that young girl herself who showed him what it was like to have fun with a friend.
   
          "Sarafina may be the first person in my life to treat me like a human being," thought Walter.  "It felt good, too.  Even though she believed me to be a prince, she still looked me in the eyes."
   
          The group of riders was approaching the edge of town, the gray and brown buildings giving way to green fields and open land.  Walter looked around and saw that they were coming up to the field where the jousting was to take place in a few days.  They were already setting up the ropes and rails which would define the listing field.  His mind wandered to the tournaments he had been witness to in the past.  The armored knights were so heroic on their colorfully caparisoned horses!  The fighting, with blunt weapons, of course, was still something to behold!
   
          As the group moved on, Walter began daydreaming about being in the lists himself.  Riding along on a huge warhorse, clad in armor, he would strike down foe after foe!  Shattering lances on shields . . . which might mean being unhorsed himself!
   
          Walter reached up and touched his bruised face.  It still hurt and the memory of receiving the blow was fresh.
   
          "But it didn't hurt that bad," Walter thought to himself, "and in a few days the mark will be gone for good."
   
          For some strange reason, Walter smiled.  He sat straighter and taller in the saddle as well.  A plan had begun to take shape in his mind.  It was a way of proving to his father, his brothers, and himself that he might actually be made of kingly stuff after all.  And perhaps it might just impress a particular fair maiden, too!
   
          He knew that his father would be put in a terrible bind because of the charges against the young ruffian, Calvin.  The king could not allow a commoner to assault a member of the royal family, regardless of the circumstances.  Walter also knew that his father would be hard pressed to take action against a subject who struck Walter when he was completely oblivious to the young prince's true identity.  The townspeople would think badly of the king.  Walter knew that his father would need some way to extricate himself form the dilemma.
   
          As they neared the castle, Walter was putting the finishing touches on a plan to make everything right – he would challenge Calvin to a trial by combat.  Not to the death but only to being unhorsed.  The challenge never could have come from Calvin; he would be asking to potentially do bodily harm to royalty.  But, if Walter challenged the young man he might be able to persuade his father to allow it.
   
          If Calvin unhorsed Walter first then the entire incident would be considered Calvin's fault for sticking his nose in where he should have brought the Sheriff.  Calvin would be allowed to go free.  If, on the other hand, Walter unhorsed Calvin, then Calvin would be found guilty and Walter himself would be allowed to choose his punishment – and Walter already had a pretty good punishment in mind for him!
   
          As they neared the castle, Bernard looked over and noticed that Walter had a strange look on his face – it could almost be called 'determined.'  He also saw that Walter was riding with the horse, not bobbing up and down against the horse's rhythmic stride.  Walter was sitting tall in the saddle and seemed, for the first time in his memory, at ease on horseback.  Bernard flicked his reins at Hector to get his attention and motioned with his head at Walter.
   
          "Well, little brother," Hector said, "If nothing else, it appears that this incident has taught you how to sit a steed!"

          And then, Walter did something that made his brothers look at hime with true surprise on their faces.  It was something that they had seldom, in their lives, seen Walter do.

          Walter opened his mouth and laughed.

  Calvin woke up with an aching head. At first he thought that he had passed out drunk in the barn. A sickening dizzy feeling threatened to empty his stomach as he sat upright. Then the previous days events came rushing back as he took in his surroundings. With a groan he stood up on the straw covered floor. A single narrow window let down a stream on sunlight into the middle of the cell. For a cell it obviously was. The wooden door was inset with a small iron grate with the hinges and bolts on the far side. Calvin moved over to the door and peered through the grate.

Torn with indecision about drawing attention to himself, he called out "Hello? Is anyone there?"

His timid query drew an immediate response. The sound of a wooden chair sliding across the stone floor was followed by heavy footsteps.

"Awake are you?" a rough voice said "I have some beer and stew for your breakfast. Though anyone else here would count themselves lucky to get water and bread"

Metal clanked loudly as the key was shot home in the lock. After some more thumps and bangs the door swung open. Involuntarily Calvin retreated before the apparition that appeared. Of medium height but huge in girth, the jailor would have been an unpleasant sight even to someone without a hangover. Thin greasy gray hair topped a round head that provided the foundation for the nose. A nose, which it should be noted, resembled a radish more than a human organ. His sweat stained shirt did not quite reach the top of his breeches. Lastly Calvin noticed the pitcher of beer and the bowl of stew that the jailor pushed at him.

"Take it boy" the man grumbled at Calvin "Or I shall assume that you aren't hungry".

The stew sloshed a little onto Calvin's hand as he grabbed both containers. He wiped the hot fluid hurriedly onto his pants A nearly toothless sneer cracked the old man's face in response to Calvin's plight.

As he backed out of the door, the jailor continued to grumble. "Miscreant and peasant, he should have been thrown into the lower dungeon. But his Lordly Grace expects me to wait upon a commoner". 

Calvin plucked up his courage to ask "Am I to be hanged then?"

Cackling aloud, the jailor slammed the door shut and threw the bolts. As the keys clanged in the lock again, Calvin wondered what he feared more, no answer or an affirmative answer. Then the unpleasant face appeared in the door grate.

"No yet boy" was the long delayed reply "The young Prince has asked for a trial by combat. You'll wait here while the king decides whether or not to grant the Prince's request. You have the young Prince to thank for your luxurious accommodations. He insisted that it would be unfair to defeat a man weakened by the dungeons."

Calvin could hear him chuckle as he made his way back to his station, but he said no more.  The straw seemed fairly fresh to Calvin as he sat down. It was one additional small thing to be grateful for. Thoroughly confused was his state of mind otherwise. A Prince, who would challenge a commoner to a trial by combat and give him better accommodations in prison, did not fit the shape that was in Calvin's head. After as much thought as he could stand with his aching head, Calvin decided that the pretense that he would not be hanged was some form of punishment. If he thought he had a hope of freedom, it would be that much worse when he went to the hangman. The stew was cool enough by then to drink from the bowl. Combined with the pitcher of beer, it eased his stomach and head. There was nothing else to do, so he stretched out in the straw and tried to sleep.

Standing in front of his father, most of the ideas that had entertained young Walter but a short time ago seemed as distant memories. "I have heard some rather strange reports concerning your absence, perhaps you might shed some much needed light on the subject", spoke the King. There was only himself and Sir Alfred at present here in the throne room, with his father the King. "I don't really know where to start", stammered the Prince, the past days activities had seemed a kaleidoscope of strange sights,smells,sounds and memories, it was almost over whelming. "Perhaps we shall start with an explanation of how you became lost" said the King."Well, my horse became spooked and reared up and threw me off, into a surprisingly deep mud hole, when I came up out of it, I caught sight of my mount running off in the distant as my page rode after it to run it down",answered Walter.

"Yes", said the King,"we are well aware of that, something that puzzled me is the clothing that you were wearing then, the reports said that you were dressed as a commoner, why was that?" "I had an idea, an epiphany I think, that the only way to truly understand the people is to spend time among them as an equal" answered the Prince. "Indeed, there is some truth to that, I wonder where you had gotten the idea from, spoke the King as he shot a glance Sir Alfred's way. "It was my own idea", answered the Prince, "anyhow after waiting a while for the page to return I decided that there was no better time to start off on my mission to learn how the people lived"."I will grant then the idea was your own,though you are not the first that the particular idea has occurred to", spoke the father. "What was it that caused this fight that I am told you had with this young man,Calvin Wilson, I believe the lads name is?" "Yes milord it is", answered Sir Alfred,"at present he is being held in the town jail awaiting your word as to his disposition"."Indeed I am well aware of that fact,speak on my son and tell me that which I have asked of you", said the King as he turned his full attention back to Walter.

"I came across him as he held down a girl, Sarafina, she was fighting to get lose from him" Walter said,"I tried to make him stop, but he wouldn't and then he turned on me." "You learned a hard lesson in that, when you stepped down from your place here in the castle,amongst the people,their values are indeed differant then our own and they are quick to violence", said the father. "I did not mean for it to come to a fight, but I just couldn't stand by and watch him harm her, I had to do something, anything, I would do it again if I had to", answered the Prince."Protecting the weak is noble and for that I am proud of you my son, we can do nothing less, regardless of the price of doing so." The King continued on, "We will hang this man for his crimes." "Please, no father!" pleaded the Prince,"instead allow me to face him at the joust." "The joust you say?" asked the King. "No, I think not, from what Sir Alfred has told me about your skill at arms, you are not ready for a joust",the King continued on,"and what purpose would that serve, vengeance? that is not the whole of doing justice." "Perhaps you are right though, I may have been hasty in my judgement, hanging may not not be the best course of action here, I must consider the matter more, before deciding what to do." "I hope that you have learned another lesson in all this my son, when you go off on your adventures, your every action has great potential to create these sorts of problems for me." "I will not stop you from this sort of exploration, but you must promice me that should you ever decide to do so again that you will take Sir Alfred with you as guide,he served me well in that when I was your age", said the King."Yes father", answered Walter."Good then," replied the King, "now go and get cleaned up before seeing your mother, I have another matter to attend."

Calvin sat starring off into space, thinking about how terribly wrong things had gone the past two days, when he heard the key in the lock. The door burst open and as it did so, he saw a blur of motion as three men rushed in the door and jumped on him. They had him down and had his hands tied behind his back before he really understood what had happened.The pulled him up and on to his feet as the jailer stood in the door way, obviously amused by it all. They led him out of the cell and up and out of the jail to the street outside where a wagon awaited them.In the back of the wagon there was a coffin and the soldiers pushed him up into the wagon and forced him to sit upon it, reaching up the jailer placed a noose around his neck. Sneering the jailer said to him,"and to think that I wasted good beer and stew on a dead man." With that the wagon began rolling, and bumping down the road, as it did so Calvins thoughts turned to memories of his rather short life. Before he knew it they were rolling into the courtyard of the castle.Once the wagon stopped the soldiers threw him down to the ground and jumped out along side him, they roughly snatched him up and dragged him into the castle. There in he was lead through halls and corridors until finally reaching the throne room. Inside a good hundred men at arms stood, each of them glaring at him, their contempt for him was plainly obvious. He was led to the foot of the throne and forced to kneel in front of the King.

"Calvin Wilson, you stand charged of not one, but three counts of assault, how do you plead?" said the King."I didn't know, he was a prince," answered Calvin weakly."Inmaterial, that has nothing to do with it", spoke the king, continuing on he said,"did you or did you not assault Serafina and Walter?" It was obvious that Calvin was shocked, his jaw worked but no sound came, after a moment he dropped his head and quietly answered, "Yes sir, I suppose I am." The king sat back on his throne, a look of relief spread across his face, "I had hoped that you would realize that", he said. "To have hanged you for assault upon the royal family,when you in fact did not know that Walter was indeed a prince would have been an injustice,we will have none of that here. "Understanding that what you have done was just as unjust as that would have been, is the first step in reforming you", spoke the King."You are a violent young man and need to learn that violence begets violence before you can learn to turn away from it." "I sentence you to five years service in the cities militia,should you regress, they are the people who will best be able to return that to you in kind, now go and start your new life", said the king. With that Calvin was led away, the only thought in the young man's head was elation that he would be permitted to live. As he left the Royal guard did so too, leaving the King to himself. He sat in quiet thought,wondering to himself what Walter's future adventures would led to and hoping that they would not lead to further drama of this sort.In spite of it all, he was proud of his son and dared to dream that perhaps he might be the one to one day become his successor.Something that his sons had yet to realize was that like his father before him,he would decide who would be the next king not by age but rather by merit.

Sir Alfred's cough had worsened by the time that the small group found shelter from the rain. The inn was small but neat as a pin. The innkeeper hurried out of the kitchen as his parlor filled up with dripping bodies. The smell of warm bread and roasted meat followed him through the door. The man was one of those pleasant looking fellows who had thickened somewhat when he reached middle age. Somehow he seemed appropriate for the brown brick and timber building which housed the inn. Though none of the travelers wore anything more than ordinary clothing, the quality of the cloth spoke for itself, as was evident in the innkeeper's manner when he spoke.

"You sirs and ladies will want a hot dinner on a night like this" he said genially "I have only four rooms but pallets and blankets aplenty if you gentlemen are not averse to sharing."

Walter took the lead here as he had for some days as his self-confidence had grown. "We have a sick man with us" he told the innkeeper "He needs a room and hot food immediately, and a doctor if one is about."  He paused to look at Sarafina and Edwina before he added "The two ladies can have a room, the rest of us will share the other two".

"Right away sir" answered the innkeeper "If you would be seated in the dining room through that door, I'll be about your requests".

He disappeared through the kitchen door shouting for someone named Ned. Devlin helped Sir Alfred to the seat nearest the fire. A look of concern passed between Walter and Devlin as the older man sank into the chair without protest. Not long since he would have howled in protest rather than sit in the presence of his liege. Walter took his seat at the far end, leaving the other seats nearest the fire for the girls. The two guardsmen who stood bracing the door looked exactly like what they were in spite of their lack of armor and uniforms.



The rain had continued to fall all through the afternoon.  Night had come down over the surrounding countryside with a cold mist and a biting wind.  Sir Alfred was upstairs, in one of the rooms provided by the innkeeper, covered with as many blankets as could be found.  Walter had arranged a rotation with the guardsmen to watch over the old warrior and here would be someone with Alfred at all times during their stay at the inn.

Walter had just come back downstairs from checking on his mentor; the young prince had decided that he would try and sleep for awhile in the inn's dining room.  There was a roaring fire there and plenty of benches and chairs.

As Walter took a seat near the hearth, a young woman wearing an apron approached him.  Her stature, complexion and hair color immediately identified her as a daughter, or at least a relation, of the innkeeper.  She asked if Walter wanted anything to eat or drink.  He asked for something hot to drink but couldn't find a place within his stomach for food.

Waiting for her to return, Walter sat staring into the flames. 

"How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?" he thought.  "We haven't even truly begun our journey.  First, the problems in the village about who would come with me and who could not.  Then, my own stupidity in arguing with Sir Alfred about where we would go and the ultimate reason for this trip.  Then the rain; then Sir Alfred's fall, and now this illness that has seemed to overwhelm him.  What can happen next?"

The girl brought Walter an earthen mug of hot cider with aromatic spices floating on the dollop of butter that was melting into the mixture.

"Let it sit for a moment, young master, and the butter will melt.  Stir it with this spoon and the mixture is sure to warm you to your bones!"  The poor girl could see that the young man was tired and frustrated and generally unhappy with the world so she smiled her biggest smile, then turned away to leave him to his thoughts.

Walter stirred the concoction in the mug and looked about the room.  There were several other travelers, some alone and some in twos or three, who had taken shelter from the rain and the cold.  Each table seemed like its own little world and Walter wished he could go to each table and ask them who they were and where they were from and what brought them into the wide world.  But his mood and his sense of propriety kept him seated alone, tentatively sipping the delicious, warm buttered cider.

He heard a commotion from the outer room; the banging of the door and the accompanying wind.  It was obviously someone that the innkeeper knew and knew well if the laughter and loud voices were any indication.  Within a few seconds, the innkeeper was showing a gray-clad figure into the dining room, ushering him with smiles and pats on the back to a corner of the room where Walter now noticed a small raised dais, something like a very small stage.  The innkeeper lit a torch in a wall sconce that threw some light into the corner and stepped up on the platform.

"My guests!  We are in for a rare treat this cold and ugly night!  A true friend of mine, a wandering teller of tales, a man of uncommon knowledge and insight, has chosen this very night to break the fast in our friendship and appear here for the first time in many a moon.  I present to you now, a singer of songs, a storyteller without compare, Yeogan of Beyland!"

The innkeeper began clapping his hands and there was a rustling of answering claps from the various patrons around the room.  Just then, Walter felt a hand upon his shoulder.  Looking up, he saw one of the guardsmen.  Leaning down and speaking in a soft voice that only Walter could hear the retainer said:

"He is asking for you, your Highness, and I think you'd better come quickly."

Rupert, the king, summoned sons before him in his private study. As they filed in their demeanor said that they thought this would be the usual role call. Slowly their father's serious expression changed their attitudes.

"I have come to a decision" Rupert began "and I believe that it will be of benefit for you all to take up a quest".

The Princes shuffled their feet and exchanged silent glances. Looking up and down the line, Rupert paused to see if any of them would comment. When none did, he cleared his throat and continued.

"You know that Walter has gone north with Sir Alfred. He insisted on accompanying the prince despite my misgivings about his age" he explained "What I now want you all to do is take a group of picked companions, no more than ten, and go your separate ways throughout the kingdom".

After this statement Rueben could no longer contain himself. "Are you sure that it is wise to send all of us away from Court?" he blurted out "What if the kingdom should be attacked?"

Rupert did not quite roll his eyes at his son. Before he answered he took at good look at the other four to see if their sympathies lay with Rueben's statement. With a shrug Rupert responded "We have been at peace with both our neighbors since my grandfather's time. For them we are either too poor a prize as well as too tough a nut to crack. Our mountains to the west and south are formidable barriers to any army from Ausastrasia, as well you know".

Rueben subsided while the others remained impassive. Their father placed his hands flat on the desk before him and continued in a level voice "You all know but do not understand that this kingdom does not necessarily go to the firstborn son". This time it was Hector who twitched visibly. Rupert waited but the prince made no comment.

"This will be my test for you all. You must not take with you any royal insignia, nor outright advertise your rank. Sufficient money and supplies will be provided to you for your journey.  None of you should return before a fortnight unless there is some calamity that befalls you" the king instructed "and with that in mind I warn you to choose your companions carefully. Are there any questions?"

The princes exchanged another round of wild-eyed looks before Hector stepped forward.
"Only one question Father" he responded "How long do we have to prepare for this quest?" A smile crept onto Rupert's face. He answered "I think a week should be sufficient. Now, send in my steward after you leave and I will give him his instructions".

The four princes bowed to their father and filed back out of the door. Their manner and bearing were very different from what it had been upon their arrival.

Walter entered the small room where Alfred lay upon his sick bed. The guard had warned him that the old man had been feverish and hallucinating. When he entered he could see that Alfred was sweating and wracked with coughing fits. As he caught his breath, the old man stared his way and croaked his name and motioned for him to come close.

"I am unsure how much time is left to me boy and if the hour of my passing is truly at hand, there are a few things I wish to impart to you before leaving"."Few men are truly wise enough to disearn those things which are most important in this life." "Some are wise enough to realize that the best legacy that a man can leave the world is the promice of a better future." "Your father, is fortunate enough to do this by working in stone." Alfred could read the puzzled look on Walter's face, "not literally son, your father is no stone mason, nor will he leave an elaborate grave marker with a few words of wisdom caved there on." "No, rather he makes his kingdom a better place by paying for roads and bridges to be built and wells to be dug in small villages,touching the lives of all who live there." "I am not so fortunate but do my part with words as best I can, spent in effort to teach the young the wisdom hard won by their forebears." "You no doubt felt that your father sent me along to be his spy and rein you in should you go astray but that was not my purpose." " When your father was young, like you he adventured among the people as you do for much the same reasons and though you do not yet realize it, like him you do well in that and of your brothers show the most promice in one day becoming the rightful heir to the throne." "It is for that reason alone that I accompanied you, I knew my time was short and felt that my time would best be sent working with you." "You have a good heart and do well to follow it, doing so, you will not go far astray." Walter tried to speak but could do naught but choke back a sob."Do not cry for me son", said old Alfred in a hoarse whisper,"for I go to a far better place then you can imagine, I have seen it in my dreams of late and one day as all mortals must, you will join me there." "Always remember, that I believe in you."

With that the old man fell silent, his eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling,Walter felt a chill as he imagined the passing of Alfred spirit from his old worn frame.Through his tears the young man looked upon his friend and teachers face as he reached up and brushed Alfred eyes closed.He gave himself a few moments to grieve before working to regain his composure. Rising and leaving the room he was met by a guard outside the door.He told the man,"We must make ready to leave here and return to the castle, Sir Alfred has gone."

He could see the sadness in the other man's face as he answered,"Yes milord we must return, but the hour is late and the day has been long,let me and the others tend to the body, we will make all the arrangements, but there is now no need of any rush,please take your rest and we will return home in the morning, no one will think ill of that".

"Perhaps then you are right", answered the prince, as he allowed the Sargent of the guard to lead him back to his room.The man was proud of the youth and the way he was struggling with his grief in an effort to try to do what he thought was right."Not to worry milord, old Alfred was like a father to all of us, we will do what is right and have you back home first thing in the morning, but now what you need most is some rest",he said as he led the prince to his room and opened the door.

  Early the next morning Walter found the innkeeper in the tavern. The older man turned sad eyes on his guest. "My condolences on the loss of your friend" he said to Walter "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Walter nodded solemnly and replied "I need a carpenter for a casket and we will need to hire a wagon to take him home".

"There is a master carpenter in the village" the innkeeper answered "He has a shop at the east end of the village. You cannot miss the stacks of wood in front of his shop". As he scratched his chin he paused before he added "As for the wagon, begging your pardon good sir, but that might unpleasant to you."

Puzzled, Walter asked "How do you mean?"

"The only wagons you might hire around here come from the fisheries on the estuary" the innkeeper explained "They salt down the fish in barrels and ship them in their wagons. Even with the fish in barrels, the wagons smell to high heaven".

Walter's expression set in grim determination. Edwina had slipped into the room and sat quietly at the closest table. Now she spoke up while Walter contemplated his next move.

"The salt will prove useful to us" she said softly "It will take us much longer to return to the...your father if we travel by wagon, many more days in fact."

  She waited while the import of her statement sunk in. After Walter's expression changed from grim to slightly ill she added "In fact, it might be better to contract with the teamsters and the fisheries to deliver Sir Alfred's body. I am sure it would not be the first time they had done such a service."

  Here the innkeeper cut in and said "Your pardon good sir, I had not realized that you were from so far away but the teamsters have indeed done such service in the past. Many who come for the fishing season have families elsewhere. Most of these prefer to be buried near their families rather than here. Your good lady's advice is sound."

  Walter blushed when he realized that the innkeeper assumed a relationship between Edwina and himself.  He collected himself and told them "yes, it would probably be better if we continued on horseback separate from the wagon. We could make better time on the road and give my father......and the king some warning of Alfred's demise."

  "Then the gentleman was a king's man then?" asked the innkeeper "It will do my inn no harm if it becomes known that a king's man stopped here, excepting the part of his dying here." Walter ignored the self-serving portion of the statement and answered "Yes Alfred was a king's man and that is to whom he will be returned. Please find me someone to speak to the teamsters and I will go myself to arrange for a coffin."

The innkeeper bustled out of the room and threw back "right away sir" almost as an afterthought.

Walter looked at Edwina with new eyes then. "You are usually so quiet" he said to her "But I am glad you spoke up this morning. You probably saved us a lot of trouble."

Letting a half-smile show, Edwina answered "I suppose, Milord, that you have not noticed that it is hard for anyone to get a word in edgewise around Sarafina." The genuine laugh that Walter let out startled himself as much as Edwina. "You are correct about Sarafina" he told her "Even though I never quite thought of it that way."

   Making preparations for the return trip had taken much longer than all had originally thought and the party realized that they would have to spend one more night at the inn.  That night, Walter lay in his bed, wide awake, as the night wore on.  His plans of going into the world, to come to know the world, had been prematurely shattered by the sudden death and the agonizing grief that accompanied this sad event.  His heart and mind told him that he should return to the castle with his mentor's body and put an end to this quest for knowledge.  But his gut, his essence, told him that he could not turn back now.
   But how would that look to his father, the king?
   So much planning had gone into this trip!  So much subterfuge which had allowed Walter to slip his friends away from their daily lives and into an incognito party, spirited away from all that they knew, their home, their village, into a world where Walter was not known by sight and his friends were complete strangers.  To turn back now might mean that this trip would become an opportunity missed and never to be undertaken again.
   Suddenly, Walter knew what he must do.
   In the next hour, doors creaked open, whispered conversations occurred, stealthy steps moved down hallways in the dark.  Scratching away with a quill by candlelight, Walter smiled – he knew that his old mentor would approve and with the note he was writing he was letting his father, and the world, know that he was now on a path to become his own man.

   The sun rose over a new day – the rain and wind had gone their own ways and even the chill of dawn seemed, not raw, but crisp and clean.  The leader of the guardsmen assigned to this trip made his way to Walter's room.  His task was a grim one: his men had stood guard over Sir Alfred's body after cleaning him and preparing the corpse for travel.  One of the guard had been sent back to the castle with the news and that left fewer hands to do all that was necessary.  And no one to watch over the prince and his friends.
   As he tapped on the door of the room, the guardsman opened the door and softly spoke:  "Your Highness, I am sorry to disturb you but the day is . . ."
   He stopped suddenly.  The room was empty.  Even the prince's things were gone.  Rushing back into the hallway, the guardsman dashed from room to room and found that all of the prince's friends were missing as well.
   Just as he stepped out of the last room into the hall intent on heading to the dining room to see if maybe his young charges had already gone down to break their fast, one of the other guards burst from the top of the stairs.
   "Sir!  Sir, we've been robbed!  Four of the horses are missing from the stable as are two of the pack animals!"
   The man stammered on but the captain walked back into Walter's room, a strange look playing across his face.  As he strode into the prince's room, glancing about, he spied what he expected: a sheet of paper that had been rolled into a scroll.  And written on the outside of the scroll one word: "Father."
   "He was right," said the captain, "Sir Alfred was right, Henry.  As he lay dying, he mumbled something about the prince never turning back.  I thought he meant . . . well, it doesn't matter what I thought.  We've got to get them back.  Get everybody up!  I want to know if anyone here saw them as they left!" 

As the sun rose,Walter passed along the road out of the village with Edwina and her brother Devlin riding along side.The bright early morning sunshine both warmed him and seemed to lift his spirits.The plan such as it was, was to ride to Edwina's home,where her parents had agreed to allow Walter to stay for a time. They understood that his true identity would need to remain a secret even if they didn't fully understand his purpose for that.He couldn't say that he blamed them in that, he wasn't completely sure of it himself.He had a vague notion that he craved some adventure but there was more to it then simply that. From the hints dropped by both his father and Alfred, there were things that he needed to learn along the way but exactly what those things were to be, he had no clue.

The land to the west, the direction in which they rode, gradually rose towards some mountains in the distance. It was on one of those mountain that Edwina and Devlin's family made their home.The Taylor's had a small farm there,out in the country where they raised sheep and spun wool, they traveled the long distance twice a year to Beade because they had family there and the woolen goods that Edwina's mother made, brought much better prices then they did in the villages closer to home.Their father spent what free time he had making fiddles, he wasn't much of a musician though he did play some,his true talent lay in creating excellent instruments.He sawed his own lumber and was meticulous in using only the very best of it for his instruments, the vast majority of it being judged unsuitable was used instead to make cabinets,ornate boxes and picture frames.

"How much longer do you think we will need to ride before we arrive?" Walter asked Devlin.It was Devlin's first time to have ridden out this far without his father but he didn't let on to it.

"What say you sister? I would figure at least seven or eight hours", said young Devlin.

"Oh, at least that much I think, if not more, I would say that we will likely arrive by mid afternoon, if we do not tarry overly with breaks", replied Edwina.

"Breaks?" asked the youth. "Who needs breaks?" he said with a laugh,"not I."

"Well, I for one, have no intention of riding while I eat my lunch", answered Edwina.

"Nor I", added Walter. "Besides I would like to see closer some of the country we intend to ride over, so long as we make it in before dark, what would it hurt?"

"Oh boy!" exclaimed Delvin,"I can see where this is leading." "You two will piddle about and have us getting in after dark, then there will be hell to pay by Momma." "I for one do not intend to get into that sort of trouble".With that he gave his horse a good kick and darted out ahead of the others. Shouting over his shoulder he said,"we best pick up the pace then", as he rode on ahead.

"Children", Edwina said about her brother barely a year younger, as she shook her head. "Any excuse to ride at a gallop, we best keep him within our sight", as she rode off after him with Walter joining in the pursuit.

Devlin had stopped at the edge of a shallow creek when his companions finally caught up with him. His mount lifted his head from the water at their approach.

"Did you really think I would ride off and leave you?" Devlin grinned mischievously.

Both girls gave him the cold shoulder after they dismounted. Their horses quickly joined Devlin's in drinking from the creek. Walter sat his horse for a moment and looked over the group.

"Actually" he stated "your sister was more convinced you would disappear than anyone else was"

He swung down from the saddle and led his horse to join the others. From his saddlebags he pulled a cloth wrapped loaf of bread and cheese along with his water bottle. Using these to gesture to the others Walter commented "We had better eat quickly. Since we do not know exactly how far we still have to travel I would rather not dally here long."

With a quick glance at the sun's location, they each secured their horses before they brought food out of their saddlebags. On drier ground a short distance away from the creek they sat down to eat.

Between bites Edwina commented "It's a good thing it didn't rain this morning or we would have to eat standing up to stay out of wet grass." The others nodded vigorously in agreement. Then they all looked up in response to the thunder of hoof beats. Three strange men on ill-fed mounts pounded over the grassy knoll towards them. Walter leapt to his feet and lunged for his sword, his last bites of lunch falling unheeded to the ground. Devlin followed suit almost as quickly.

The first rider came in low in the saddle, a spear couched much like a lance, straight at Walter. He was able to side step the attack and in so doing batted away the spear with his sword, causing the rider to drop it. The second rider was but a half heartbeat behind the first and he swung his sword in a blur which sent Devlin down, the boy bounded right back up, though blood ran down the side of his face from a nasty wound to his ear.As he went down his sword struck the riders horse on a rear leg and wounded it badly enough, that the horse stopped a dozen pace past the group where the first rider elected to turn around for a second pass. It stood on three legs holding the wounded leg up and refused to go on.The last rider follwed behind the second and wielded a club he swung at Edwina, but was wide and missed as he rode past. Serafina threw a rock the size of her fist at him, catching him in the back of his head. While he wore a leather jerkin, his head was unarmoured and the blow from the rock knocked him out of the saddle and at the feet of the other two riders.

The second rider jumped down off his horse and took a look at his horse's wound. He spun around with a snarl and yelled,"that horse cost me a small fortune in gold, you'll pay for that. I am killing the whole lot of you."

The first rider said,"shut up Earl and help Ned." As he slid down off his horse and took up a defensive stance.

"Well, I am damn it",  said Earl as he did as he was told, reaching down and trying to steady Ned enough for the man to regain his feet.

"I know you will Earl", answered the first rider,"but there is no sense in wasting breath on telling it when the deed is yet undone and we have a man down."

Edwina stepped over to Devlin to look at his ear, it looked bad, with allot of blood but appeared the ear was still attached, she quickly took a scarf that she had tied around her neck and bound the wound as best she could while Walter stood his ground in front of them, sword at the ready.Serafina darted around looking for another suitable missile.

Try as he might Earl couldn't get Ned up well enough to stand on his own, the man swaggered and swayed like a drunkard.Finally he helped him up on to his horse. As he did so he turned back to the troublesome children, a grin on his ugly face at the thought of how he intended to kill the girls, suddenly a rock smashed into his mouth and dropped him to one knee, thrown by Serafina, who was now armed with the dropped spear.Raising up he spit out a tooth and a mouthful of blood as he howled and lunged forward,the first rider grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him back in an effort to stop his attack,"saddle up behind Ned,Earl, we are leaving", as he hopped back up and on to his own horse.

"No!, roared Earl, I am making them pay for what they have done."

"Then you'll do it alone", said the first rider as he wheeled his horse around and began to ride off.

Looking back at the group he helped attack and then at the rider leaving,Earl gave a second howl of anger as he swung up behind Ned on the horse. He shook his fist at them and screamed,"you'll pay! I will not rest until I have killed every last one of you vermin!" and with that he spit another mouthful of blood in their direction before he wheeled his horse around and rode off with Ned, leaving his wounded mount behind. Almost as fast as they had appeared they were gone again riding off into the distance.

As the bandits disappeared over the grassy hill, Walter lowered his sword with an arm that had turned to jelly. Edwina was winding a linen bandage around her brother's head. Walter walked unsteadily over to the wounded horse. It snorted and rolled its eyes at the prince's approach. But Walter managed to get close enough to grab the loose reins. He bent over to examine the horse's leg. The stab wound was fairly deep but the horse would probably recover. The sound of more hoof beats drew the group sharply to attention. Then they relaxed when the two guardsmen and the guard captain came trotting up the road on lathered horses.

"Your highness" the captain said with a curt nod towards Devlin "it appears that we have not arrived in the nick of time."

It suddenly occurred to Walter that the bandits had attacked them on impulse. The wide open space in which they stood was hardly the best place for an ambush.

"I will agree that it was unwise of us to leave you behind" Walter replied curtly "I see now that our numbers were too few to discourage robbery." Then he made a gesture that took in the open pasturage and continued "But you must agree that this is an unlikely place to catch someone unawares.

The captain glanced over to the wounded horse with its bloody leg. "It appears you did manage to scotch the outlaws' plans" the captain said "Would you agree with me that they will probably come back in greater numbers?"

"Very well Captain Naives" Walter sighed "It seems we must take a different path to our destination. What do you suggest?"

The two girls stepped forward and said, almost in unison "We could follow the creek."

Sarafina laughed aloud and added "The road goes directly to the farm. But the creek goes to a fall and small pond that is only a little east of the farm.. The women use it for laundry and we swam in it last summer."

The captain raised an eyebrow to question this suggestion. Seeing his dubious expression Edwina explained "The creek and the pond are screened from sight by thick brush once it goes downhill from here. No one would see us if we walked the horses down the center of the creek."

With a snort of amusement Walter announced "That sounds good to me. Let's get on with it."

Devlin removed the saddle and bridle from the wounded horse and left it beside the creek. He felt bad for the poor animal, but they couldn't take it with them. Captain Naives took the lead as they road single file into the creek bed. The pea-gravel bottom would have been hard on bare feet but presented no impediment to the horses. Walter, Devlin and the two guardsmen each led a pack mule.

It was not long before the creek turned downhill and the surrounding brush grew thicker. They turned a bend and the creek widened out under a cathedral canopy of green. A grassy hillock in the center of the stream bore evidence of an encampment. Devlin slid from his horse and poked at the remains of a campfire.

Looking up at Walter he said "This is several days old. The ashes are mixed with dried mud."

Walter let out his breath that he had not realized he had been holding. With Devlin remounted, they continued their journey. Quite a bit further along, creek narrowed and the trees closed in on them. Their passage startled birds from the trees in small bursts. Suddenly Captain Naives held up his hand for them to stop. Walter leaned to his right to see around the captain.

An old man in leather trousers and a ragged cloth shirt walked towards them in the center of the creek. On his shoulder was a leather wrapped bundle.

"Hold there old man", called the Captain. The old man looked up obviously startled by meeting anyone along the creek, much less so large a party. He raised his free hand and stopped, then spoke,"easy Mi lord, I am not armed and am no threat to anyone, much less any of the King's men."

"What are you about, walking down this creek as you are?" asked the Captain.

"I suspect that my reason is much the same as yours, I had heard there are a band of bandits abroad in these lands, I am passing through here trying to make my way down to the sea, answered the old man. I thought that I might find work aboard a passing ship or barring that find a fisherman that needed some help in town."

"Indeed, there was an attack by bandits down stream where the road crosses the creek, said the Captain. I'd be on my guard passing through there and wouldn't tarry near that place, we expect them to return there before long."

"Thank you good sir, I will take well your warning to heart and if you have nothing further to ask of me will be on my way then," replied the old man.

"Fair the well", answered the Captain as he lead the party past the old man, while he stepped on up on the bank to make way for the party as they traveled past him up the creek.

  As true as Sarafina had said, the creek started downhill in a series of lazy S-curves. The slope was just steep enough to require the riders to pay strict attention to their mounts. Occasionally they traded off the pack mules to give each other a bit of a rest. Some fifteen miles past the ambush site, the creek's descent became much steeper.

"Milord" the captain said "I fear we must leave the creek here for dry ground. If this gets any steeper our horses will slip on the wet gravel."

Walter was a bit out of breath after a particularly tight turn. The creek had cut deeply into the western bank as it wound its way downhill. On the eastern side the edge of the river was only a half step up from the creek bed. Walter looked up at the left bank as it towered over his head. He nodded and answered the captain "I agree with that. But we will have to take the easterly bank which will add some distance to our journey." Edwina was the closest to Walter and so was the first to hear of this change in plans. "It is no matter" she spoke up "The robbers that we chased off were following the west side of the creek where the road runs. On the east bank we are less likely to see them again. We should be no more than thirty miles or so from the farm."

"She does have a valid point" Walter stated. Once again he felt some slight surprise that Edwina had spoken up so firmly. She had hardly spoken during most of their journey.

"Very well milord" Captain Naives voice cut through Walter's thoughts "The east bank it is."

He kneed his horse towards the right without waiting. Walter and Edwina followed immediately with the rest not far behind. The trees gradually thinned out as they got further from the creek. Open green grassland of gentle hills threaded with strings of darker green brush beckoned them forward. Walter reined in his horse sharply at the tree line.

"Look!" he called as he pointed backwards towards the southeast "Do you see that?" Six pairs of eyes followed the direction of his gesture. A column of whitish gray smoke rose in the distance. Devlin reined in beside Walter and squinted hard at the sight.

"That has to be close to the bridge where the main road crosses the creek." He told Walter in a daunted voice "Do you suppose it is the work of those same bandits?"

The prince replied through gritted teeth "Very likely it is." His frustration at that thought was evident in the way that he turned his horse's head south and kicked him into a trot through the trees.

After a long days ride, the group finally made it to the Taylor's humble farmstead. A good forty acres of pasture and field surrounded the house, barn and out buildings, to the west of the building lay a small but mature orchard. As they rode up the lane to the house, in the distance they could see Edwina's and Devilin's father cutting hay and near the house the mother carried a basket of wash out to hang out on the line round back. As they rode up to the house their father finished his cutting and climbed up into the wagon and headed across the field to meet them at the house.As they crossed the yard heading towards the barn, the girls waved to the mother as she smiled and waved back. When she caught sight of Devlin with his bandaged and blood on his shirt, she dropped the basket and ran to him."Devlin, what have you done to yourself?" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"We were attacked by bandits on the road near the old bridge, one of them nearly took off my ear, momma", he replied.

A look of horror flashed across her face as she said,"you could have been killed!"

The captain said,"they gave better then they got my lady, wounding two of their number and drove them off as we approached. We had been detained in town by the death of Prince Walter guardian. The old gent passed away due to old age and illness."

"And you are?" asked the mother as the father approached in the wagon.

"Captain Victor Navies of the King's own household guard, answered the soldier as he dismounted and made a bow,happily at your service, my good lady."

"Um, will you gentlemen be staying as well", she asked.

"Yes we will, we are tasked to provide the Prince's escort", answered the Captain.

"Not to worry my lady, spoke the young Prince,these men have their own rations and would be more then happy to stay the night in the barn, they do not want to be any more problem to you then necessary and will be riding back to town in the morning, isn't that right Captain Navies?"

"As you bid, Prince Walter", came the Captain's reply.

"Well let's get you inside and have a look at that ear, young man" said Devin's mother to him.

The father said,"right then if you gents will follow me, we will get these horses out to the barn and look after them before supper. I helped the wife with her cooking today, there's more then enough to feed us all,and rations or not  I bet that you could do with a hot meal at the end of a long days riding."

Captain Naives and the two guardsmen followed Matt Taylor into the barn. Devlin brought the other horses and pack mules along as well. The captain stopped short when three men stepped out from inside one of the stalls.

"Everything is alright Bart" Matt explained "These men came in with my children. They're not the robbers that we feared."

Each man had a weapon in his fist that he lowered after hearing Matt's clarification.  The clubs and shearing knives would make formidable weapons in the hands of men accustomed to their use. Matt turned to the captain and said "The rest of my men are moving most of the flocks to summer pastures. Bart, Tom and Harry here usually work here on the farm. We saw riders coming up over the hill so they his here in case the situation turned unfriendly."

The captain let out a long breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. "Thank you for your frank explanation" he told Matt. Then a crooked smile cracked his expression and he added "Let's get these beasts unloaded because I could eat a horse myself."

When the men got back to the farmhouse Walter and the girls took turns giving Anna Taylor an enthusiastic description of their adventures. The long table was already set with plates for everyone around a huge platter of bread and cheese.

"I've already told Pr.....Walter here that there is only mutton stew today." Anna explained "On Wash day I don't have as much time for cooking as I'd like." She glanced at her daughter before she continued "Without Edwina's help I have fallen behind in my work."

Both Walter and Edwina blushed at the implied rebuke. To change the sticky subject Devlin spoke up "So Dad, have those bandits paid a visit to the farm?"

"Not yet" answered Matt "But they robbed the old tinker between us and the Anderson's place. Not that he had anything but food to steal. And they smashed some of his pots for spite."

After supper Matt,Walter and the girls went out to the barn to check on the soldiers out there and bring in the dishes from their meal.As they entered they found that Bart, Tom and Harry had stayed around for awhile helping to clean up the barn and make it as suitable as possible for a nights stay for the three soldiers as they ate. Now that they were finished the men had gathered together taking small nips at a flask the Captain had produced from a saddlebag, while an impromptu war council took place.As the girls left with the dishes in the direction of the house, the conversation picked back up regarding the likely tactics that the bandits might use as well as improvised weapons that the farm hands might construct and their various uses.

Speaking up, Captain Navies asked a question,"where do you think it is that these bandits came from and how long have they been at this sort of thing?"

"There has been a good deal of speculation about that, here abouts as of late", answered Matt Taylor."As near as anyone can tell, it is believed that there are about a dozen of them, they washed up on the shore with the wreckage of a small ship. Some of the town folk say that they were the survivors of a pirate ship that the King's navy sunk when they caught it lurking just out of sight of the shore near there."

Victor made a face when he heard mention of the navy, Walter knew the man had helped to train some of them a few years back when the force was first formed. His father had been excited by the prospect of starting the navy, he viewed it as a force for exploration with a secondary role of policing the waters along the coast. The sad fact was, that they ended up doing rather more policing then they did exploration. Captain Navies viewed the sailors as enthusiastic armatures at best and little better then pirates when he was not inclined toward being generous.

"Well, now that we know that they are a problem here, I will see to it that a detachment of men will be moved here and stationed in the area until they are all run down and brought to justice. It will take about a week or two to gather the force and get it moved in and set up. I think a company of light cavalry would serve best, until they get here it would be most prudent for you to gather together as you are doing and keep a close eye on things."

Tom,Bart and Harry made ready to leave, they would head home for the night and bring their families back in the morning to stay in the barn as the soldier where doing tonight. The Captain made plans to leave the two soldiers here at the farm while he rode into to town the next day to put his plans into action. Walter was not happy with the whole idea but knew that it was necessary in order to protect the families here abouts, the bandits were a hurtle towards his plans of living among the people and learning whatever lessons it was his father and Alfred had meant for him. After seeing how they had wounded Devlin he understood that they were worse then a simple nuisance to his plans and ambitions but rather a deadly threat to the simple farm folks and their peaceful way of life.Seeing that an end came to this threat was much more important then anything he might learn here had they not been present.

Walter jumped up from the cot where he had been sleeping when he felt a hand on his arm. "Shhh" Edwina cautioned him "Ma says that Sarafina and I can't go milk the goats alone and everyone is busy except you."

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Walter looked around the darkened room. "Is it morning already?" he asked between yawns.

"Yes" she replied "or near enough. Come on now and we can get breakfast after the milking is done."

The door to the kitchen let a sliver of golden lamplight spill into the room where they stood. Devlin and the farmhands were nowhere to be seen. Whatever Walter had thought about farm life, it had not included rising before the chickens. He stumbled after Edwina to where the other girl waited in the back garden. The goat shed was behind the main barn on the other side of the walled compound.

Walter felt a little foolish to be wearing his sword into a goat shed.  The goats and their kids had already been awakened by the girls when he walked through the door. Still yawning, he watched as they took the nanny goats in pairs and tied them up in the milking stall. He tried to count the goats as they moved continuously around the pen. Around the number fifty he gave it up as an exercise in futility.

"Come here Walter" Edwina's voice broke into his sleepy reverie "Please take these full pails and empty them into that vat."

He looked in the direction she indicated and saw a very large tin vat in the corner. The full pails were heavier than he expected. They sloshed alarmingly when he tried to lift both at one time. Quickly he set them down and tried again. After both pails were empty he brought them back over to find that the second set of pails was nearly full. A quick glance told him that the girls had worked their way through nearly a third of the goats.

With each pail Walter became a little more adept at handling the full buckets and pouring the contents into the vat. About mid-way through the milking process Walter was struck by a sudden thought. He had been so proud of his skill with a sword. These people had skills which he lacked. And they needed these skills just to feed themselves and keep a roof over their head every day.

When the milking was finished, Walter thought that they would return to the house. He was surprised when the girls went into another building near the well house. Goggle-eyed he watched as they tipped a huge vat of curdled milk through a layer of cheesecloth. He felt a shrinking feeling as he realized that they had not even asked for his help. It seemed that his awkwardness with the milk pails had not gone unnoticed. The cloth covered rolls of cheese curd where moved into stone troughs and covered over.

"Finally we can get some breakfast" Sarafina announced as she straightened from the work "I'm glad I don't have to do the cheese at home." Edwina poked her in the side and laughed. "That's because you're not as good at it as your sister" she said jokingly.

Walter smiled wanly; sure that he had missed some private joke. The sun was well over the horizon when they marched into the kitchen.

He had left well before sunrise and now the sun had been in the sky at least a good two hours. When he left the farm, Captain Navies had gone back the way that they had come. Instead of traveling down the creek though, he had crossed and followed the treeline along the creek on the far shore. Good thing too, he thought as he reached down and gave his mount a pat on it's well lathered neck. He had been chased by the bandits since a little after sunrise. They had been on the opposite bank,from what he could see they had made a camp there, likely they were following the creek trying to track the party as best they could. He had the advantage being on the opposite side of the creek from them. They could ride as hard as they wished but it would do them no good, he had too much of a lead on them. He doubted that they would follow him much past the old bridge as it was too close to town and the help he would find there.

Back at the farm the three farms hands had returned in time for breakfast with their families.Between Tom, Bart and Harry their families tallied a good dozen or so. While the children and men folk ate, the wives figured out who would stay behind and who would join the men today at work out in the fields. Of the two soldiers that were left behind at the farm one would stay back and serve as look out for the farm while the other would go along with the men and watch for them. The man who stayed back at the farm had already taken up a position on the roof of the barn as the daylight began to burn off the morning fog.As the men headed out to the fields with their charges in tow the women divided forces and began preparing the loft of the barn into suitable quarters for the families who had gathered there, while the others began preparing the food for the noon meal.The whole farm seemed to have turned into a variable beehive of activity.

Walter found himself among the men folk headed for the field. He was unsure what sort of work they would do but he resigned himself to the fact that he would lend a hand as best he could for the time being. As soon as the bandits had been rounded up, he would begin to consider how best to resume his goal of adventuring about the countryside. Walking along side Matt, he asked the old farmer what sort of work it was that they would be doing today."Well, said the farmer, we have gathered the animals up yesterday but hadn't finished cutting the hay that they would require to feed them. After that if we have enough light left we may do a bit of fence mending." It was then that the thought occurred to him, Walter was startled by it, he had never actually worked a day in his life. To be sure he had worked hard at master some of the skills Sir Alfred had tried to teach him and had spent many a long hour at that but he had never had to fix or gather anything until now. Perhaps there was a lesson in that he thought as he walked along the lane which led to the hay fields beyond.

The sound of approaching horses caused the group to bunch up on one side of the lane. Three wagons rolled into view between the fields of tall hay. Walter saw that Matt Taylor's face broke into a grin almost immediately. The wagons held four or five men each, with the first one driven by a barrel chested man with gray hair.

"Dag Anderson" he greeted the man in the leading wagon "and Tim Bartram what on earth brings you all over here?"

"I'll tell you Matt" the man answered "We heard from Bart's sisters that you have a Royal officer and some men come to help with the bandits. I convinced Tim to bring his boys and lend a hand. We finished our haying, as soon as your is done we can plan on how best to scotch those scallywags."

The middle-aged Dag climbed down from his wagon seat and Matt shook his hand gladly.

"We're glad of the help" Matt told them all "My thanks to you."

Walter watched in something like awe as the men piled out of the wagons with their tools. Briefly he considered asking for one of the big scythes. This was before he felt the awkward weight as he helped unload the wagons. The men went about their work resolutely but with a few smiles and small jokes. Walter found himself paired with a boy who looked far too young for the heavy tool he carried.

When the boy handed him two reels of twine Walter questioned him "My name is Walter, what's yours?"

The boy shook Walter's hand an answered "Tom Bartram, my father is Tim. You probably met him earlier." He gestured towards an older man with Devlin who was worked a row of hay next to them.

The larger number of men meant short work of the haying. Thomas Bartram swung the scythe with a deceptive ease from long practice. The hay piled up almost too quickly for Walter to catch and bundle. By the time they were finished Walter's hand were filled with rope splinters from tying the bales that Tom had cut.

All of the workers piled onto the wagons to ride back to the farmhouse. Walter and Devlin were accorded the rare privilege of riding on the back of the hay wagon. Even with a break for lunch, Walter had not worked this hard or this long at anything that he could recall. He picked the splinters from his hands as his tired feet dangled from the back of the wagon.

"What do you suppose your Captain Naives will think about the additional fifteen men we are bringing with us?" Devlin asked.

"I can't guess" Walter answered "But I can't wait to see his face."

Captain Navies luck had gone had gone steadily south as the day wore on. He had kept ahead of his pursuers as far as the old bridge but as it began to come into sight he realized that there was a group of bandits there as well. He doubted that they had any idea he was coming this way but they were ready for him as he approached none the less. He turned his horse away from it's parallel course with the river, hoping to swing wide of the bandits there.

It did him no good though, while he managed to stay ahead of both groups, one of the bandits from the bridge was able to loose an arrow that struck his horse in her left flank. He felt her body shudder with the impact and looked back and down at the arrow firmly lodged there. She did her best and ran on but the wound had slowed her and the bandits gained on them as they all raced away from the river.It wasn't much longer before arrows began to rain down around him, he wasn't surprised in the least as he felt the pain of one that struck him in his low back. He did what he could to hold on but with his legs gone numb as they had it was a futile effort as he slipped from the saddle and fell off.

The horse ran on as the bandits slowed to a stop where he had fell. Victor thought to himself, good perhaps at least she would live. He managed to pull himself up right but could not rise as the arrow wound blazed like a small fire in his low back. Tears filled his eyes as he drew his dagger, he knew that he would not be able to fight them off for any real length of time, if he had thought that he might, he would have instead drawn his sword. He had failed, there would be no hope of any help coming to young Prince Walter and the Taylor family.The only thing he could do now was take his own life, he didn't want to die but knew that it would be best if he did. When faced with enough jackals even a lion may fall prey to them. He had no intention of suffering their taunts and torture, possibly to reveal a fact or clue that might aid them on their attack on the farm stead. With that thought he plunged his bade below his breast plate and into his own heart. As he waivered there on the edge of conciseness,mercifully all went black for him as he watched his own helmet sail through the air as the club of one of the bandits struck him in the back of his head. 

Supper came and Captain Naives did not return. The men grew restless as the hours dragged on towards dusk. Some lounged against the trees in the kitchen gardens with their pipes and a mug of ale.

Tim Bartram approached Matt Taylor as the sunset touched the clouds with pink. "I left three men with my daughters but I'm uneasy leaving them alone at the farm overnight."
Matt tapped his pipe against his leg thoughtfully. "Would you be agreeable to having them come here?" He asked. Before Master Bartram could answer, Dag Anderson broke into the conversation. "My wife and two youngest boys are home with three of my men" he explained "I told the boys to look after their Ma and the farm; but if I had my druthers, I'd bring them here." The men who were outside gathered around to listen the farmer owners.

Matt frowned and looked at the darkening skyline. "With night coming on its chancy to be outside the walls" he commented "We'll have to send some men along to gather them up while still leaving enough here to defend the farm."
Walter had walked up at the end of this sentence. "Whoever goes will have to ride light and swift. How many men here can ride?" he asked of the group. Every man around the prince held up a hand. Walter sighed and asked "How many men can ride fast and fight from horseback?" Only four hands remained up. "Begging your pardon" Dag interrupted "But who are you, boy, to tell us what we need?" Matt Taylor's face went white, but Walter did not react. Placing a hand on his neighbor's shoulder Matt explained "I have been asked to keep this a secret, but the circumstances have changed. This young man is Prince Walter." This time it was Anderson's time to turn pale. Everyone who stood nearby stepped back several paces.

Walter's face broke into a sad smile at the physical and psychological distance that this statement created. With a shrug he responded "Yes I am Prince Walter but the matter at hand is more important. I and Devlin will go and take the four men with us. The rest can stay here and guard this farm. It's closest to the road and is at more risk." One of his remaining guardsmen stepped forward and added "If you think you are going anywhere without us, your highness, you are very mistaken. It's our lives if anything happens to you." Walter started to protest, but the set of the man's jaw told him that argument would be useless.

"Very well" Walter agreed after some moments "Let us saddle up and head north for the Anderson farm first."

When the men were ready to set off, Edwina came up to Walter's stirrup. "Be careful" she told him "Come back safe with everyone."

Pride and concern warred with each other in her eyes as she watched her brother ride off at Walter's side.

Earl turned the body of Captain Navies over and saw that the man had stabbed himself in the heart and was dead,roaring anger completely seized his conscienceness as he began to kick the body in the head. While he did so Franklin scanned off in the distance looking for any signs that the rider may not have been alone. Ned dismounted and stood by as Earl stomped the dead man's head into a bloody pulp. He was waiting for a chance to strip the body of anything of use or of value.

"That's enough Earl!" yelled Franklin as he looked at what the man was doing.

Earl gave a bellow of rage and stormed at the man still on his horse, and screamed at him, "I am tired of you always ordering me around,like you was a captain aboard a ship or something, your not damn it do you hear me!" When he approached close enough Franklin flipped his drawn sword up and into the man's throat, he checked himself in time that it didn't quite pierce the flesh.

In a deadly quiet voice, Franklin told Earl, "your right, I ain't no captain, only a second mate without a ship but even if I was a simple seaman you'll do as I tell you or I will kill you where you stand and that's all the authority that I need, you remember that and you may live to see the sunset."As Earl stood glaring at Franklin, Ned began gathering up the weapons that lay strewn around the body while keeping an eye on the two. Experience had taught him that when Franklin talked like that someone was about to die.

Earl gave a snort of contempt and spun around on his heel and went off to mount back up. Ned had taken everything of even remote value from the body and began to mount up himself. As he did so, Jones, the first mate slowly approached Franklin as his horse glided quietly along side.

"Did he just kill that man?" he asked Franklin.

"No, answered Franklin, he took his own life with a dagger as we approached."

"Tis a shame, from his clothing it is obvious he was a solder and possibly some kind of officer, said Jones, he might have told us much. You should have killed that mad dog for being insubordinate, none the less."

"Hell sir, we are pirates, answered Franklin, if we do not make it back out to sea ere long, we are all liable to hang for mutiny and insubordination ourselves, soon enough. Earl's just abit of a hothead, I can keep him reined in."

"Fair enough, said Jones, it's your call on that, but I got a feeling about him. If you don't kill him yourself, he will end up being the death of you. When that happens, I will kill him myself. All right then back to the bridge with the whole lot of yous, we will gather there and then ride on the farms, in order to scratch up enough supplies to hold us until we can ride out of here and quit this forsaken country for a port in a neighboring land to find ourselves another ship." With that Jones wheeled his horse around and rode off with the others in his wake.

The trip to the Anderson and Bartram farms was both less eventful and took longer than Walter had anticipated. The families and the other men were reluctant to leave their homes at first. But after some argument they were convinced. Then the packing took some time. Walter was knew that bringing sufficient food for the number of people was important, but he was not prepared for them to insist on bringing every goat, cow and horse also. As his rescue mission turned into a herding expedition, Devlin chided him for his impatience.

"Your Highness" he said to Walter "These animals mean having enough to eat and the means to support themselves in the future. As long as we are able to bring them along, we should."

"You are correct" Walter muttered "I just wish it didn't take so bleeding long to do. I can't help but feel that something will happen and we will all be caught out in the open."

Devlin shrugged and replied "If it does, then it does. But fretting will not hurry things along."

It was well after midnight when they came in sight of the walled compound of the Taylor farm. To Walter's dismay, several lanterns had been strung along its length and a bonfire burned bright inside the gate. He spurred his horse towards the nearest knot of men. Dag Anderson and some of his men stood around the fire.

"You need to put out this fire immediately" Walter shouted with a hint of desperation in his voice "This and all those lanterns do you no good."

Dag's mouth dropped open in surprise but he stood stock still while the rescued people and livestock streamed past.

"What are you going on about now?" Dag asked sarcastically. He still was not satisfied as to the truth of Walter's status.

With a sweep of his arm Walter indicated the lanterns along the wall. "All these lights will merely destroy your night vision and provide targets for these marauders."

One of the guardsmen who had followed Walter added his voice to the discussion. "His highness is correct" he told Dag in deadly earnest "No lights on the walls if a siege is imminent."

Dag appeared to digest this for a moment before he turned to the nearest man. "Pass the word to douse the lanterns." He instructed "No lights outside until after dawn."

Satisfied, Walter nodded to Dag and then started his horse towards the stable.

Since he knew practically nothing of livestock handling, he left it to Devlin and his father to settle in the newcomers. His first order of business was to make a round of the walls. About halfway round he encountered Tim and Thomas Bartram. The older man stopped Walter and told him "I want to thank you for going after my daughters. I have stationed men along the walls to watch. I hope that's to your liking."

A brief moment of panic washed through Walter. On one hand Master Anderson questioned every thing he said, but here on the other hand was Master Bartram looking to him as a military expert. In that moment the young prince most keenly felt the loss of Sir Alfred.  A touch at his elbow brought him back to the present. He turned to see the fair face of Edwina. She said nothing but stood and looked at him expectantly.

With a tone of confidence that he did not really feel, Walter answered "I'm sure you did the best you could. Just make sure that the men get some rest in rotation. It would not do for the bandits to hit us at dawn and find us all exhausted.

"Good thinking that" Tim replied. And with his son Thomas grudgingly in tow, he went to see to the arrangements.

Walter was lost in his thoughts again as he watched the pair vanish into the dark. When Edwina spoke, the unexpected sound startled him.

"Do you expect them to attack at dawn?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know exactly what to expect" Walter answered sadly "I only know that the attacks seem to be getting closer and closer. They may be trying for the mountain pass into Ausastrasia. This would mean passing through Beade and turning south."

"One thing I learned about war from Sir Alfred, said Walter, that is the enemy will always try to do the unexpected and gain advantage from it. We will have to allow for every possibility that we can imagine."

"That could end up being anything, spoke Edwina thoughtfully, I have a big imagination."

"Well perhaps we can work that to our advantage, answered Walter. If you were a bandit on horseback in strange and unfamiliar land, what would you do?"

"Unfamiliar,huh? said Edwina, that would make me uncomfortable. Not sure that I would care for that,I would try to get back to what I knew. Being out of my element, I would be worried that the things I thought to be right, might not hold true here."

"Out of the mouth of babes..." said Matt Taylor, as he and Tim Bartram walked up.

"Indeed, replied Walter, it all makes sense if you think about it. Being stranded pirates they are likely feeling as much the hunted as the hunter. I bet as soon as they begin to get better organized that they will look for some way to get back to sea and leave the area, I know I would."

"I see the wisdom in it,answered Tim, what these young folk is saying makes sense. After a short pause he added, something else occurs to me as well, I bet they will be fighting like they was aboard their ship."

"How do you mean?" asked Matt Taylor.

"Well I figure, if your a pirate you don't go around a jumping on every man-o-war you see sailing on the horizon, said Tim. You lay low when a warship comes around and try to sneak off if you can, what you are really looking for is not a fight with a ship that can match you but rather a fat merchant ship, full of valuable freight that can't put up a fight."

"Well I can see the logic in that, I suppose but this ain't the sea,spoke Matt. I don't see how any of that would carry over to what they are liable to do out here in farm country.With a laugh he went on,Lord this has got to be about the craziest war council that I have ever heard tell of."

"I am not so sure I would write it all off so lightly, answered Walter.I fought some of these men,they will not stand and fight when the odds appear to be even, what Tim guessed at, I know first hand to be true. I think you discount all of our ability to make a guess at what these men might do."

"Well begging my pardon, Prince Walter, but honestly what war councils have you stood in on? asked Matt Taylor.We ain't fought a war in nearly a generation, all our heroes are either dead or old men with one foot in the grave."

"Your right, this is the first war council I have been in, such as it is,answered the young Prince.But I have been trained all of my days by men that have been heroes and sat in on war councils for battles that changed the fates of nations. They taught me that heroes are not always great warriors bred to a life of war, but rather men who are scared, as much so as anyone else, who make the effort to fight their fears and face the unknown in order to protect their families and homes. You take away the grand titles and ribbons and gold braids and you'll find those grand heroes and leaders in their great war councils are just people like us,here now, trying to figure out how to stay alive another day or two by out thinking their enemy.And the stories that I have heard told of war councils was that they were often as not, desparate affairs held out in the open as we are now. "

Franklin let his horse fall behind Earl's as they cut through the woods north of the road. The old pig trail they followed was barely wide enough for them to ride single file in most places. Though Franklin was young to be a second mate, his level headed thinking did not fail him here. He hoped that the old trail led to one of the more isolated farms where they could scrounge some food and supplies. But in getting there he was not about to leave his back to Earl. The mad-dog gunner had often proved his worth aboard ship, but he was too unpredictable by far. There were no men that Franklin had ever heard call Earl their friend. The gunner was no great shakes to look at either. He kept his head and face shaved clean so his web work of scars was visible across his head and face. Along the right side of his face, a cannon misfire had destroyed the ear and left a blue grey tattoo of powder burns. From his left ear dangled a single earring that he called gold. In the last few days it had taken on a distinctly green hue. Franklin could afford to chuckle to himself about it, but he dared make to comment to the gunner. As he brushed aside yet another prickly tree branch, the second mate wondered how on earth he would keep this motley group alive long enough to return to the sea.

The morning sun was not yet over the horizon when they approached the end of the trees. The weak light showed the landscape in shades of gray. Jones, Dorsett and Martin the blackamoor drew their horses up beside the Second Mate where he had stopped just inside the tree line. Earl had ridden boldly out into the clearing. A cluster of buildings was just visible no more than a mile from where the men stood. Strain his eyes though he might, Franklin could discern no movement.

"Jones" he he quietly "Does that place look awfully deserted to you?"

"Aye, it does at that" was the equally quiet reply.

Earl continued on without a backward glance. After a moment Franklin said "We might as well go on and see if there is anyone."

It took quite awhile to cover the distance but each step brought the scene more clearly into view. Long before the reached the walls they could see the house was shuttered and barred as well as the gate. Earl and Martin scrambled up the rough timber wall. This type of barrier was no obstacle to men who were accustomed to climbing a ships rigging in the teeth of the wind. When they got the gate open, Franklin and Jones brought the horses inside. The gunner slammed one of the house's stout iron locks in disgust before he went off to search the barn. The men split up and searched all the open barns and sheds. The second mate managed to get the lid off the well and drew water for the horses in addition to filling his waterskin. While he was busy with this, Earl stalked up and slammed a bundle onto the ground. The soft white substance within landed with a moist slap and leaked onto the bare ground.

"There is naught to be had here but some hay and overripe cheese" the gunner bellowed at Franklin "We should have followed the tracks on the road. All the food has gone with those lubbers to the south"

"Mebbeso" he replied "But it will take a hard fight to wrest it for ourselves. That was a powerful lot of tracks heading south; maybe too many men for us to take."

Dawn broke upon the Taylor farm much as any other day but the place was more crowded then it had ever been. Another thing that was differant on this day was there was no work to be done, other then the absolute essentials, feeding the animals and cooking was all. It had been decided that it would be best for everyone who had gathered here to stay together as much as was possible until Captain Navies returned with the men he had promiced to bring.

Mean while well to the south a patrol riding along a road not far from town, came upon a wounded horse.Sargent Smyth hopped down from his horse to examine the beast,she had taken an arrow to the flank. Lt. Hawkins rode up along side and asked the man, "what do you make of it,Sargent?"

"Well sir, answered Smyth, she's been wounded some time now and she is fitted out in military style tack and harness. I looked in her saddle bag and found these letters. I couldn't tell much from them but they look to be important possibly even some kind of orders." As he handed them over to the officer.

"Hmm? said Hawkins as he began to read them, this looks to be written for an officer of the Kings own Guard a Captain Navies, charging him with free pass regardless of the circumstance as he is charged with the safety of Prince Walter and appears to be signed in the King's own hand.Do you realize what this means, Sargent?"

"No sir, but I figure it must be grave as the horse of the Kings guardsmen is found wounded and abandoned along the road."

"It means that Prince Walter is at risk, possibly even dead of captured. You take three men and ride into town  with word of what we have found, I will take the rest of the men and begin scouting along the road to see what we can find. I will leave a man at the old bridge with word of where we head after that."

Franklin turned to Jones and asked,"well then what will it be?"

"We ride for the pass and quit this country while the getting is good" answered Jones.

"Good I was praying that you'd say that, I got a feeling that we have over stayed our welcome here", spoke Franklin. "What will we do for food ?" he asked.

"We will live off the meager rations that we have, take the cheese there with us and hunt when and if we can. Tis better to be alive and hungry, rather then full and dead."

"Aye it is, answered Franklin. I think this easy living here on the farm land has made us a bit too soft, a bit of a fast is just the sort of thing that we be needing as well as a firm fix on getting back to the sea where we belong, to see us right again."

"Indeed, your a wise man and it has made it a privilege and an honor to have served with you, said Jones. Making a virtue out of necessity is the very heart of what we do. Besides these landlubbers has circled their wagons so to speak and if I haven't missed my mark, guess that it would be too hard a fight to take what we need from them. We ride on and will only fight if we must."

After making it back to the cover of the forest, Franklin started a fire with some twigs while the others gathered up the deadfall for firewood. All of the others, that is, except Earl. He paced around the tiny clearing while the second mate sat down to whittle some sticks into usable skewers. Two scrawny rabbits and a pound of cheese would barely make a meal for two men, much less five of them. The gunner's pacing set Franklin's nerves on edge but he held his silence out of respect for the other man's uncertain temper.

"I think we should have made a try for one of the other farms" Earl snarled "They can't all have locked up and gone away."

"Maybe so and maybe not" Franklin replied with a tired sigh "But like as not they are for now. 'Tis no use fretting over what cannot be helped."

For a moment he thought Earl would say more but they were interrupted by Jones's return. He had been running to judge by the way he gasped for air.

"Soldiers on the road" he wheezed "Looked to be headed for the village."

He picked up a water jug from the ground and chugged several swallows. The second mate was on his feet in a second.

"How many did you see?" he asked in alarm. Jones wiped his mouth with his sleeve before he answered "Seven, maybe as many as twelve. I couldn't rightly see as I ducked under a fallen tree to keep from being seen."

Franklin scratched his chin thoughtfully. He looked back at Jones and replied "If they was looking for us, they would be looking at the farms first." He raised an eyebrow at Earl and added "It was a good job that we didn't hang about that farm long or we might be on the gallows on the morrow."

Martin and Dorsett returned just in time to hear the end of this conversation.
"What do you mean?" they asked almost in unison.

The second mate pointed to the rabbits near the fire. "What this means is that we eat and lay low until dark. That old geezer we found said it was possible to walk down that stream and end up at the bridge south of the village. In the dark we may be able to slip by these soldiers and those blasted farmers."

The others nodded in agreement. All of the others, that is, except Earl again.

Once their inadequate meal was consumed they threw dirt on the fire to put it out. The lack of ale and grog now gnawed on their tempers more than the lack of food. Some tried to sleep on the carpet of old leaves. But to all it seemed an eternity before Franklin deemed it dark enough for them to move.

The quarter moon made just enough light for the white gravel of the road to show up as a silver ribbon against the charcoal gray grass. They found the edge of the stream easily enough and walked their horses out into the middle. The canopy of leaves arched over them and shut out even the moon's feeble beams. They stumbled occasionally on wet rocks that they felt more than saw.

Jones edged his way over to Franklin. After a few cautious minutes he whispered "I am beginning to have a bad feeling about this."

Franklin half slid as the creek shifted the left and dropped several inches. "I'm beginning to have a bad feeling about this myself." He replied worriedly.

A skittering noise and a splash made them both turn towards the sound. Only a hint of movement was visible in the dark. Earl came up spluttering and cursing. "I'll be lucky if I don't break my leg doing this." He snarled to the group in general.

The creek bed became steadily steeper from that point on. The part that caused Franklin to worry was the action of the horses. It became almost impossible to drag them forward along the course of the stream. He heard Dorsett's voice some distance in front of him in a steady flow of profanity after he fell and scraped his shins. Jones slowed and fell behind as they continued to feel their way. Franklin had been so concerned with the slope of the creek that he only then realized that the water was deeper. Cold water swirled around his thighs when he reached the place where Dorsett had fallen earlier.

"Rough water this is" Jones mumbled in complaint. The second mate stopped to catch his breath and the force of the water made him stagger slightly.

"I think we need to turn back. This would be treacherous to navigate in daylight much less in the dark" Franklin said to Jones. Before they could turn their horses a yell shattered the night. A lot of splashing preceded another yell. Both men tried to wade towards the continued yelling and splashing when a voice let out a blood curdling scream. A loud thump and a louder distant splash froze their blood in their veins.

"Help me" Earl cried out weakly "Please God help me"

Franklin dropped his horse's reins and practically crawled to the sound of Earl's voice.

He found the man in deep water clinging to a projecting rock for dear life. Jones stumbled up and between the two of them they pulled Earl back to his feet.

"My ankle" he whimpered "I think it's sprained." Martin stumbled along behind with the horses and the worked their way to the edge of the water. Using tree roots for a ladder, they climbed up the embankment. The horses managed to climb the bank after a couple of false starts. Once out of the water they collapsed onto the dirt.

Franklin coughed a couple of times before he asked "Where is Dorsett?"
When he received no answer he sat up and asked again "I said, where is Dorsett?"
"Gone over the edge" Earl answered in a pained voice "That old man gave us bad information. This creek doesn't lead to the bridge. It leads to a god cursed falls."

Franklin sank back again as the meaning of what he had heard became clear.