CHAPTER III
"May inspiration shine above Eatherland ... for a woman has come to the lair of goats," a steward greeted Shim and Abid-nego with gaiety as they entered the camp of the tenth division. The camp was on a place called Barrenhill, an elevated tract of level land that extended from the southern end of the rocky mountain of Eathercrest. A long sloping road that ran along the curved edges of the mountain led to the camp from the ground below.
"May ... may it be so," Abid-nego answered, pulling the reins to cause his horse to stand still.
"I would like to ask audience from Lord Limbstrong … your Captain," Shim spoke, pulling some strength to calm her self and to hide her apprehension. She was uncertain of what her meeting with the Captain would bring about.
"There ... the Captain," the steward pointed his finger to the largest tent directly before them. He was the least in honor among all the stewards in the camp, a cripple who was accustomed to uttering words of grace to every Eathen warrior he met. It pleased his soul to be with the gallant men of war.
The steward, with his hand, motioned them to follow as he limped his way to the tent. Shim and Abid-nego darted their sights around as they moved headway after the steward. Towards their left were arrays of tents pitched on the dusty ground, most of which were faded and patched. Warriors, in their leather skirts and bare chests, sat lazily on the ground, by and about the tents, most were with moustache and some were with beard. Noticeably, in their demeanor remained a trace of their peasant and slave origins. Behind the arrays of tents and by the edge of the elevated tract of land, a shed of heavy linen was stretched at a distance under which men in woolen garbs that hung down to their shins like that of the crippled steward busily attended to their chores.
To the right of Abid-nego and Shim, facing the mountain wall, was the training ground where the spear-bearers endeavored to fall in their ranks with the least measure of time and to remain in their ranks with feasible steadiness. Riders and swordsmen, with their heavy iron swords of an arm-and-a-half long, engaged themselves in a mock-fight. The clanging sound of their iron swords floated through the air, distinctly, amidst their shouts and growls. Sweated bodies in varied sizes glinted under the afternoon sun.
Along the way to the Captain's tent, some men parted from their concerns and fixed their eyes steadily on Shim as she and Abid-nego passed by. Mischievous smiles were formed on their faces.
The tent of the Captain stood at a distance from the other tents. It was made of heavy linen, brown in color, like those of the other tents. A long pole in the middle held the tent high and four shorter poles held the tent on four sides, forming a rectangular structure. Wooden spikes fastened the tent firmly on the ground.
When they finally reached the tent, the steward announced to the Captain the presence of the eunuch and of the young woman. Thereupon, Lord Limbstrong appeared from inside the tent through the thick linen curtain and met them beneath the linen awning that extended from the roof of the tent. At once, Shim saw the familiar stare of a hawk on his face not even the hair that grew on his face could conceal. He stood tall and steady by the heavy curtain; leather vest wrapped fittingly around his firm and brawny upper body and thin strips of iron added firmness to his leather skirt. His demeanor showed the likeness of a seasoned warrior.
Lord Limbstrong was the son of Lord Willstrong, the Chief-captain of the royal army during the reign of King Rockfuller. He commenced his life as a warrior by becoming a part of a small contingent that that served as an eye for the royal army. His valor stood out from those of the other warriors and earned the approval of King Rockfuller and, later, of King Rockburry. Right after his father left the royal army due to weakening brought about by his advancing age, Lord Limbstrong was given the office of a leadsman by King Rockburry who succeeded the throne - King Rockfuller was afflicted with an illness which caused him to weaken gradually until he died. As a leadsman in one of the nine divisions of the royal army, he ably led a good number of swordsmen to several battles alongside the armed riders, the archers and the spear-bearers.
When war was waged against the nation of Hostho, he was given the Captain's sword and was commissioned to form a supplementary division for the royal army as the Eathen spies had told the King that the Hosthile army was great in number. With him, he took Stoneheel and Rawhand, his training mates who had fought with him in many battles and had helped him in some dangers. He appointed Stoneheel the leadsman of the armed riders, and Rawhand the leadsman of the swordsmen. A warrior named Spader was appointed the leadsman of the spear-bearers, a Seabuck from the nation Seaby who found honor in Eatherland.
"What errand brought you here?" the Captain asked, trying to surmise the matter that they brought with them.
"My Lord…," Shim replied, she was holding on to the confidence which her heart stubbornly pounding loose, "... you have made an oath to my father which until now remained unredeemed. Now my father is dead and I am the last of his household. Will you delay it a little more until I too am gone?"
Abid-nego marveled. "What precious matter did lead the Captain into making an oath?" he soulfully pondered. In Eatherland, those who gave their oaths and left them unredeemed were believed to meet the reckoning of the Good Spirit.
The Captain was saddened to know that good Oarwell had died. "My heart grieves for the death of your father, and it saddens me the more that my oath I failed to redeem according to his will. I kept the oath in my heart and the remembrance of which never left my soul. But my battles were many and my days went by so swiftly, thus my oath did linger long unredeemed," he spoke with apology. "Now I shall redeem my oath, for I am convinced ... this is the day appointed. So tell me your will … that I shall do and obey."
"Save me from the wrath of the King ... for I refuse to give regard to his summons," Shim answered, casting such heavy load upon Lord Limbstrong.
Lord Limbstrong was shaken with disbelief, "Why lead me into such misdeed?" he replied. "Am I a king who can break the words of another king?"
He stood with momentary stillness as he stared at Shim with his eyes declaring his disbelief. Then he went back inside his tent to regain his peace. Time had added weight upon his oath, he realized, a weight he can no longer bear.
As he sat on a wooden bench and searched his soul for the rightful response to the young woman's bidding, the swordsmen and spear-bearers began to gather by the Captain's tent and around the ash-colored horse upon which Shim was riding. They wanted their captain to award them the young woman, for they had been, in most part of the warm season, under the toils of becoming fit for war, and soon they will be sent to fight the Hosthiles. The sight of the young woman revived their urges for she looked fair and graceful despite of her being merely in her unadorned white cotton dress and faded purple sleeveless outer garment of woolen fabric that hang over her back and shoulders.
Irked by the fractious conduct of the warriors, Abid-nego declared unto them a warning. "This woman has a call ... a call from the King!" he shouted. His displeasure accentuated his stammering, an impairment which he had had with him since his childhood. "She is being summoned to serve the King's house ... household!”
"Ey! .... Will the King destroy the whole division in place of a maidservant?" the crowd mocked Abid-nego. Others fumed against him. Sensing the Captain's indecision, their agitation grew stronger and more clamorous. Repeatedly, they sounded their urges with their loud roars and grumbles that drowned even the admonition of their captain.
As the warriors began to argue amongst themselves concerning the rightful one to whom the young woman should be awarded, Shim then spoke. Discerning that they were of shallow understanding, she devised a way to ensnare them. "Indeed ... I have a summons from the King to serve in his mansion, but to obey, my heart wills not. Prove yourselves worthy of my service, therefore, that I may be spared from serving the King."
"How shall we prove? Make haste and tell us!" the crowd shouted with excitement. They were like a flock of wild beasts, bent to catch their prey.
"Have not our fathers and forefathers in many times gave their daughters to the one who was able to break the riddle which they spoke? I now, then, declare unto you a riddle ... that I may know my fate. Whosoever could break the riddle, him, I shall serve. But each man who fails shall die for he has affronted the King with his desire. With all these, the eunuch shall bear witness for the King."
Perchance, Shim thought, the difficulty of the riddle and the certainty of their deaths would cause the men to let go of their desires. But to her dismay, the crowd assented to the challenge for the peril fed the warriors inside them. To the peasants, it was like becoming a champion for the young woman's honor. To the slaves, it was irresistible. The freedom that the King had granted them was too much for them to contain, they had, at numerous times, pushed it to the limit.
Seeing that everyone assented to the challenge, Shim spoke boldly, saying:
"Thus … the riddle goes --
It is a slimy maggot, for it thrives in a sepulchre;
An archer's bow, for it sends its arrows through the air.
It is a wild beast, for it roams through the streets untamed;
A deformed mirror, for it reveals other people's shame.
A warrior's life for the maiden's honor, tell me the name and tell me no error."
Thereupon, the men of war searched their souls for the answer to the riddle, but the rightful answer seemed to hide so well. Some gave up, but others took their chances. They named names of plants and of beasts, of the things seen above and of the things seen below. Yet not one was able to break the riddle. Each man who dared to give an answer and erred met a speedy death by hanging. Before dusk, the setting of the sun, eight men died - three peasants, and five slaves.
The Captain was then alarmed. His men were dying by numbers. Wanting that no one else should die, he stood before them and spoke to Shim saying: "I will give answer to the riddle. If I break the riddle, I will take you to Eathercrest and present you before the King." To Abid-nego, he spoke saying: "If I fail and die, bring into the King's remembrance the battles which I fought for the crown, and tell him of my indebtedness to Oarwell ... that he may set the young woman free for my sake." Then to his men he shouted, "If I fail to break the riddle and death is upon me, send the young woman away ... lest the whole division be consumed by the riddle."
Shim was dumfounded. A feeling of concern grew inside her. She failed to foresee that the Lord Limbstrong would also enter into the snare. "How could you be so foolish," her eyes seemed to dart as she stared sharply at the Captain. She couldn't bear the thought of the Captain hung lifeless on a high pole. Likewise, should the Captain be able to break the riddle, she hated to be brought before the King. She too was taken into her own snare.
"It must be a 'nightmare'," Lord Limbstrong answered, "for like a maggot, it is a messenger of death; like a bow, it sends you out of your peace; like a wild beast, we cannot learn the nature of it; and like a mirror, a vision it does reveal."
After the Captain had spoken, there followed a momentary silence. All eyes were on the young woman, awaiting her pronouncements. Troubled, the young woman worriedly closed her eyes to escape from the stares of the crowd, not wanting to speak a word ... for the Captain's answer was wrong.
"A ... a 'nightmare' indeed!" cheered Abid-nego as he tried to finally put the matter to an end. He was unsure whether the Captain's answer was rightful or otherwise. What he was certain was that the Captain must live. Shim held her peace. She decided not to say otherwise, for the Captain, she was convinced, must live.
The air was then filled with all sorts of utterances, sounding diverse responses. Some murmured with indignation for they had lost their chances. But others sounded gladness that the riddle was broken; for it had been like a burning lamp the oil of which was their fellow warriors' blood.
The Captain, after it was declared that his answer was fitting, took from his tent a large sheet of linen, blue in color, and made it a covering for the young woman, from head to foot leaving out only her eyes. Then, to his men, he gave out a warning, saying: "Henceforth, this woman shall be covered in this manner. Whosoever will look upon her lasciviously shall his eyes be drawn from their sockets, and whosoever will say that he was tempted by her womanhood shall his tongue be plucked from his mouth."
"Go now to your own cares therefore," the Captain thereafter concluded, "and bother not the young woman any longer."
Taking heed to the warning, the crowd thereupon went back to their tents and rested. Some cowed the stewards, taking more than their share of bread and malt. Order was again restored in the camp.
The Captain, believing that he indeed did break the riddle told Shim to stay in his tent for the night and when the new day comes they will make a journey to the city and bring her before the King. Afterwards, he went about his usual concerns. Not wanting that the badge of his men's willfulness remained hung above them, he ordered that the remains of those who died by reason of the riddle be brought down from the poles and be buried without delay.
Shim, still in bewilderment of the plight which she was in, obliviously entered the Captain's tent and sat on a wooden bench which stood next to the four-sided wooden table. Seeing that no one was with her in the tent, she uncovered her head to obtain some ease, ready to cover her head anew when the Captain would come.
After a while, the steward who was a cripple likewise entered the tent and brought in a fire to light the lamp that was set on the wooden table alongside the Captain's implements for dining. After a little while more, another steward came. With him was a platter and upon it were a loaf of bread and a cup of animal broth. He placed the platter on the table and told Shim to eat if she wills. Thereafter, the two stewards left.
"So fair a young woman," the second steward spoke with deep admiration as they walked from the tent.
"Indeed ... her fairness compares to the Lady of Littlegrove," the crippled steward replied.
"The Lady of what?"
"Littlegrove … the village from which I came. She is a woman who was cared for privily by the olden palace handmaids ... in their mansion. None of us, villagers, has knowledge of her true being and her origin. Thus, the elder folks regarded her... the veiled Lady of Littlegrove."
Shim, bothered by the likelihood of her being brought before the King, found no desire to eat. In addition, the loaf of bread appeared to her as not so luscious and the animal broth smelt to her as not so enticing. As she sat on the bench, she thought of a way to avoid being brought to the city. To depart from this camp unnoticed would be unworkable, she presumed. And so is to make a plea to the Captain. Slowly, despair crept into her heart.
Later that night, after conferring with his leadsmen concerning the fitness of his men to fight, Lord Limbstrong went back to his tent. In his tent he found Shim still seated on the bench and appeared to be in deep thoughts. As much captivated by the comeliness of Shim as his men, he spoke to her saying: "Prepare yourself now ... for I will lie with you tonight."
"Not so my Lord," Shim answered, keeping her distance from the Captain. "I will not lie with you tonight."
"Have you forgotten that I broke the riddle?" he blurted out with annoyance, making a move towards her.
"You did err in your answer. You did not break the riddle," she said promptly as she held out a dagger and pointed it towards her heart. "I would rather die than to lie with you tonight!"
"Then why wasn't I dealt with accordingly? Why lead me into another misdeed?" he yelled. He was fuming mad.
"The eunuch wanted to save your life," she replied, watchful of his actions. "Why refuse your deliverance?"
Angry and confused, Lord Limbstrong left the young woman and searched for Abid-nego. He felt anger towards him more than gratitude. The blaze of shame appeared to him as more arresting than the glow of his new lease on life. He thought that it would be better to send him away at once, for Abid-nego's presence would surely inflame his guilt and shame.
By the campfire, the Captain found Abid-nego watching the dances of flames with his feet crossed before him and his hands as well crossed while holding the gray woolen mantle that was wrapped around his upper body.
"In my father's mansion are many maidservants," he said to Abid-nego with a firm voice, "depart therefore and take the fairest among them and bring her before the King. You shall tell the King that she is in place of the daughter of Oarwell."
Abid-nego argued, asserting the need to comply with the King's summons, but Lord Limbstrong threatened his life saying: "Do as I have commanded you to do ... else, I will spill your blood with my own hands."
Perceiving that Lord Limbstrong was heavy with his anger, Abid-nego left.
After the eunuch had departed, Lord Limbstrong went to find solitude to ponder on the distress that had befallen him. There was something in his memory that reminded him of a similar predicament in the past, yet he could not recall with certainty when did it come to pass. "It may just be in my dream," he sighed with dismissal.
Standing by the cliff and aided by faint light from the starry sky, he caught a vision of the patches of shrubs on the ground that descended steeply below. At a distance before him, sketches of huge rocks were visible, strewn across a tract of wavy land. Farther beyond was a hill, stretched into a distance and contoured with the shape of trees. The stillness of the sight engrossed his soul, and overwhelmed the rage that filled his heart.
Shim had fallen into slumber when Lord Limbstrong returned. She was sitting on a wooden bench, her head was bowed down and her hands were on her lap still holding the dagger. The journey had wearied her somewhat that her flesh yielded to the spell of the night. Without a sound, the Captain drew near her, carried her and laid her onto his cot - a thick cloth of woven work, held in four sides by a wooden frame - wanting that the young woman be rested with comfort. Thereafter, the Captain likewise rested. He unrolled a length of thickly woven linen, laid it on the dirt and slept on it.
Time dragged the night deeper down into its trough, and led everyone but the night watchmen to rest.
At the break of the new day, two stewards went to draw water from the river of Mosskin. They were on a wagon, drawn by a pair of horses. As they drew near the bank of the river, they saw a young woman who was standing by the river and staring at its rugged flow. With her costumed apparel, she gave forth the guise of a maidservant in one of the rich households of the town of Mosskin. Seeing that she was alone, they pursued after her and brought her, covertly, into their camp after filling the vessels with water.
In their camp, they hid the maidservant inside their tent unnoticed. Shortly thereafter, however, there arose between them a heated argument on whom to lie first with the maidservant, and then it broke into an ugly fight. One took a small rock and smashed it onto the face of the other. The face of the other steward bled and one of his upper front teeth fell. Promptly, the rest of the stewards stopped the fight and brought the two and the maidservant before their captain.
Shim was awoken by the noise that came from the stewards. In her flesh remained the feeling of sharp pain and weakening caused by their tiring travel to the camp. She rose from the cot and regained her strength, covering herself anew with the blue-colored linen. Wanting to know the matter that was being argued outside the tent, she went out and stood behind the Captain who was sitting on a barstool beneath the awning that extended from his tent. Her eyes were stung by the glare of the sun that rose high above them, nearing the uppermost. She was astonished by how lengthy her weariness had caused her to sleep.
One of the stewards had already told his contention when Shim emerged from the tent. The other had just begun to speak. His mouth was inflamed and bloody, and his voice was hissy. Standing before the Captain, he spoke, saying: "My Lord, we took this maidservant from the river of Mosskin ... a deserter, we perceived, for she has gone afar without her mistress. We pursued after her and brought her into the camp on the understanding that I shall lie with her first, for it was I who first saw her. Yet, when we were in our tent, this man treated our agreement with disregard, dragged me into a fight, and inflicted me this much." He opened his palm and showed his fallen front tooth ruddy with blood. "Consider now my infliction and award me the woman."
Shim's anger was rekindled. She was reminded of what had happened to her sister Leah one saddening afternoon several harvests past. "Give to the woman that which has fallen from your mouth to recompense your misdeed..." she exclaimed, giving no regard to the presence of the Captain, "... and set her free lest your blood be demanded by her master."
The stewards were silent, awaiting the Captain to speak. "What the she has spoken ... that you shall do," he commanded. He was moved by the wisdom of the young woman. "Now, go back to your chores and fight no more."
The steward then gave his fallen tooth to the maidservant and then joined the other stewards as they went back to their chores.
Still seated on the barstool, Lord Limbstrong spoke to Shim and said, "Behold, the eunuch is gone and I have nothing to cause you to remain a while longer." He had resolved the previous night that the young woman must go her way so that his guilt and shame may likewise leave. "Be free therefore … and go your way."
For a while, Shim was speechless. The words of the Captain came to her unexpectedly. She did not suppose that the eunuch would leave without her in as much as the Captain failed to break the riddle. Moreover, she had nowhere else to go. She feared to go back to Yokefield as the palace guards might come and take her forcibly to Eathercrest.
Finally she spoke and said, "Must I go and face the wrath of the King on my own? Are you not twice as much indebted to me now as before? It is my will to stay in this camp a while longer until I be sure of my deliverance from the King's wrath."
The Captain was once more disheartened. "Why am I so accursed that my misery won't part from me?" he sighed.
"Stay if that is your will?" he spoke with his voice hinting his anger and powerlessness, "but as I have told you, I am not a king who can break the words of another king." Then he called for the stewards to pitch a tent for Shim.
The maidservant, as the Captain was giving instructions to the stewards, went near Shim, fell on her knees and lowered her head. Shim was puzzled; she withdrew.
"She wants to render you her service," Lord Limbstrong told Shim.
"Haven't you your own mistress?" Shim asked the maidservant.
The maidservant shook her head; sadness was on her face. Just before the stewards came and took captive of her, she had decided to get into the river and let its rugged flow wash her away to her death.
"Take her with you for there is no life for a maidservant without a mistress," Lord Limbstrong bade Shim. "If her master comes for her, we shall give her back. But for now, she must render you her service and must be covered in like manner that you are covered."
Shim did as what the Captain had commanded. She took the maidservant with her notwithstanding her not being accustomed to having a servant who was to do and obey her bidding. To be covered in like manner as Shim, the maidservant was given a covering of amber color.
The maidservant was about as old as Shim. She was lean and on her tanned skin were traces of wounds that had healed. The stares of her brown eyes were with hesitations, conscious of her ignoble birth. Her tongue was out of shape, disabling her to speak with understandable clarity. Her ebony hair was braided and curled at the back of her head, a norm for maidservants in Mosskin to do. She was from the richest household of the town of Mosskin, and she was not a deserter. Being young, she was feeble and there was clumsiness in her ways. Earlier that morning, in her master's mansion, she dropped an alabaster vase filled with precious ointment by accident. The vase broke into pieces and the ointment was wasted. Her mistress was wroth and ordered that the she be beaten with a rod of cane and be sent away. After she was flogged for several times, she was led out of the house for good. Through the streets of the town, she roamed aimlessly, until her wandering brought her to the river.
The day in the camp was just like the days that had come to pass. The peasants and freed slaves endeavored with earnest effort to learn the ways of a warrior. The swordsmen drew their swords to perfect their dexterity in fighting. The spears-bearers, in a unified motion, fell in and out of several battle formations. The armed riders, on their horses, rushed between two arrays of poles and tried to strike with their swords the woven globes that were placed on top of those poles. The archers shot their arrows at some marks that were fixed at varied distances.
In that same day, as the sun began to set, Abid-nego reached the city of Eathercrest and gave account to the King. The King was displeased for Abid-nego hadn't brought with him the young woman.
"Where is the daughter of Oarwell?" the King asked with a tone of dismay. He was sitting on his throne. "Haven't you found the young woman?"
"I did so, your majesty, I found ... I found her in the town of Yokefield where Oarwell's household lived," Abid-nego answered, as he knelt on his right knee. He was downhearted. His failure to be of good use in the King's release from the curse caused him more dejection than the King's evident displeasure. "Yet I brought her not with me for she is at this present time with Lord Limbstrong whom she asked for deliverance from your summons."
"Bloody fool!" the King shouted. "Why did you let her go that far? And the Captain, has he decided to rebel against his King?"
"These... these I speak freely for I know that the King is just," Abid-nego explained. "In their dwelling I did meet the young woman and told her of the service that she is ... she is being summoned for. But... but she hates you, O King ... and such hatred she was not afraid to show. She held with her hand a dagger, ready to inflict injury to her self if I will take her forcibly, and that I did not do. On a horse, she ... she took a journey to Barrenhill and sought for Lord Limbstrong. I followed her to the camp believing that I ... I can convince her in due time. I told her not of the real cause of your need for her, lest ... lest she will mock you and do you mischief for she is wily and clever. The Captain who is not privy to the very cause of her summons willed to keep with him the young woman. He ... he sent me to take and bring before you the fairest among maidservants in his father's house, and when I argued, ... he swore to spill my blood. So I fled without the young woman. This, O King, is what came to pass."
The King rose from his throne to contain the rage that was fuming inside him. His respiration was deep and heavy. With a firm voice, he commanded, "Take with you twenty guards to Barrenhill ... arrest Limbstrong and the daughter of Oarwell."
Thereafter the King motioned Abid-nego to leave. Thusly, Abid-nego made a final gesture of respect and then left.
In the camp, when the night came, the Captain sent for Shim who was with the maidservant in her tent. He was unusually drunk to his full. Shim willed not to go. She feared that if she would fall into slumber, the Captain might come near her and do unto her his mischief. Instead, she gave her covering to the maidservant, believing that the maidservant could last the night longer than she could, and sent her to the Captain's tent saying: "You must not utter any sound and must not lose hold of this dagger. When he sees you with the dagger, he will not come near you for the fear that you will inflict your self with it. Now go and do well." The maidservant nodded readily and then proceeded to the Captain's tent. Left alone inside their tent, Shim anxiously lay on her cot, hoping that the Captain would not take notice of her scheme.
Lord Limbstrong was sitting on a bench by the wooden table and was leisurely drinking a cup of brew from barley malt when the maidservant entered the tent. At once, his sight was fixed on the glinting dagger that served notice of her unwillingness to lie with him. With his right hand, he gestured the maidservant to sit down, pointing to the barstool near the tent wall. Then he waited, allowing the silence of the night to lullaby her to sleep, thinking that when she falls into slumber he would go near her, take the dagger from her and then lie with her. But the spell of the night was a respecter of no one. It led even the Captain into a deep sleep. The maidservant, who was sitting on a barstool, remained awake. On her sitter were still some traces of stinging pain caused by the whipping of cane. The discomfort caused her to last the night. When she was convinced that the Captain was in deep sleep, the maidservant went back to Shim and related what had taken place by nodding and shaking her head to the questions that Shim asked. Upon learning that the Captain did not learn of their guise, Shim was relieved. Thereafter, they rested.
When the new day broke, the two stewards who brought the maidservant to the camp, again went to the river of Mosskin to draw and fill with water three wooden vessels of a waist high and a forelimb in roundness. With them were the young woman and the maidservant who went along to bathe into the river. They rode on a wagon drawn by two horses where the vessels were likewise being carried.
When they got to the river, the stewards then filled the vessels with water from the shallow hole, about an arm deep and an arm and a half wide, on the sandy portion of the bank of the river which they had dug during their first trip to the river. The maidservant and the young woman, on-the-other-hand, unhurriedly bathed in a removed portion of the river. The water was to the two women chilling at first but after a while it became refreshing. When they were through bathing, they went out of the water and took their mid-day meal of bread and honey that the stewards set apart for them to eat. Shortly after the sun had reached the uppermost, they again went on their way back to the camp with the vessels of water.
On their way back, however, they met an old man who was sitting under a birch tree, and was plucking melodiously the strings that were stretched uprightly in an open triangular frame that he was holding.
"May inspiration shine above Eatherland," the old man exclaimed with delight when he saw them coming, "for water has come to quench my weakening thirst."
Then excitedly, he rose and stood in the middle of the dirt road to cause them to stop.
"Isn't he the olden minstrel?" one of the stewards uttered with surprise as he pulled the reins to cause the horses to stop. The young woman was struck with awe. It was far from her unbridled dreaming that she would, one day, lay eyes on the fabled man. She had heard tales about the olden minstrel before. They were in verity the frequent talk of the elder folks in her village. She had learned how the minstrel had appeared unexpectedly to the travelers, without them knowing whence he came and not knowing to where he was heading. And his verses, they seemed like sighs, people had testified, for they did reveal what was hidden in one's heart. Furthermore, there was an unsettling tale about a messenger who met the minstrel on his way to an urgent errand. The minstrel did ask him to rest a while and hear him play his melodies. However, the messenger refused as he was in haste and had no time to spare. Consequently -- the elder folks had cautioned – the messenger lost his way and never found it.
"Olden indeed!" Shim whispered as she stared at the face of the minstrel who went closer to the wagon. On his wrinkled face were traces of unnumbered seasons that had come and gone. He was in a gown of imperfect white and an outer garb of faded shade of hazel. His gray hair waved down to his shoulder and his tired left hand held loosely the remarkably crafted instrument.
"It is without wonder why the melodies it gave forth were enchanting," Shim concluded soundlessly as she took a glance at the instrument.
Enticingly, the minstrel spoke to Shim and said, "Child, give me water to quench my thirst and I will sing a song to soothe your soul."
"Draw as much water as you need," Shim replied as she handed to him the dipper, striving hard not to show her confused feeling of fear and wonder, "for water is not but for the thirsty."
Thusly, the minstrel took hold of the dipper, dipped it into a vessel and drank from it. When he was full, he spoke to Shim and said, "A gracious heart you have with you. I tell you this very day, one heart is crying out to you saying ...." Then he began to pluck the strings on his instrument and with slow baritone he sang:
"If there's something else that I could be;
A looking glass I'd choose to be;
So that your comeliness, you can see through me;
Promptly, truly ... naturally.
"If there's one thing that I would hunt;
It's the rarest gem, the choicest cut;
To lay before you with pure intention;
For nothing less befits your affection.
"If there's one truth that I would learn;
It's what my yearning, to you would mean;
For not my will, your peace to ruin;
And I will never ever cause you pain.
"If one last breath I'm bound to spend;
And the reckoning glass is running out of sand;
These few words, I'll strive to utter;
I bless the wind for bringing you near.
"But then I hope you'd understand;
What's in my dream is not what I am;
Though all I've wished, I all do mean;
I'm just a pale shade of the man."
What followed the last verse were the cries of the strings, forming a tingling sound with a melody that resembled of the hum of the minstrel.
"What a pleasant song you just did sing," Shim uttered readily when the cry of the last string faded, evidently blown away by the minstrel's singing. The others were at a lost of words.
"Tell me I implore thee," Shim asked the minstrel fervently. "How will I know whose heart do you refer?"
"That of the man who will take you to a place afar," the minstrel answered with a tone of certainty. "A thirst quenched and a soul consoled," he announced as he made his way back beneath the tree to again rest, "... it is a fruitful day today."
The four then geared to leave. As the wagon moved forth, those on the wagon heard the minstrel sang another song amidst the waving cries of the strings, sounding:
"So long a road behind me,
Much longer ahead;
This journey through life,
When will it ever end?"
Known the song to one of the stewards, he smilingly joined the singing against the disapproving stare of the other steward. With a rugged voice he went on belting:
"I look back and I see my foot prints;
A few hops of joy, and some steps of ease;
But there were marks that show me on all fours;
It was there where I stumbled, fell and did crawl.
"For I traveled not in a leveled highway;
Where mirages of deceit led many men astray;
But through the forests, along the ledges;
Where sweats abound … and even tears.
"There were ups, there were downs;
Sometimes ... even lower;
But this narrow road that I have traveled;
To His Goodness … it got me closer.
"My life ...
May not have a good name to call;
May not cause an applause to roll;
But this one thing I know for sure;
I took my time ... and lived it full."
As they rode back to Barrenhill, the pleasant melody of the olden minstrel's strings resounded enduringly in their souls.
In Barrenhill, Lord Limbstrong struggled to drown his guilt and shame by going about his concerns busily. However, his gloom failed to evade the notice of his friends, his leadsmen.
"Still haunted by the young woman?" Spader asked, disrupting Lord Limbstrong's nearly a daylong of silence. His bulky stature and his wavy black beard gave an appearance of a formidable warrior.
"I've been amidst some trying times before, yet not one has tormented me this much," Lord Limbstrong unburdened his soul. He was sitting on a stack of gathered green grass and was watching his horse feed from another stack. Shortly before leading his nut-brown horse to the stacks of grass to feed, he rode on it and rushed between the arrays of poles and tried to strike the most number of globes on top of the poles. But his gloom seemed to burden him so weightily for he missed all but the first globe which he struck. Manifestly, he was not in his usual warrior self where could have easily caused each globe to roll like the head of a foe. "How does a man withstand a disheartening shadow like the daughter of Oarwell?"
"If my sword cannot resolve the matter, then I have no competence to deal with it," Rawhand sounded his rarely spoken thoughts. His rugged demeanor hinted his equally rugged manner of thinking.
"So fair to ignore ... yet so wily to contain," Stoneheel smilingly quipped. He stood tall in his evenly built body, and his shaven face exhibited his good look. "An adversary that a warrior is certainly not equipped to meet."
"Perhaps she'll leave in due time …," Spader reasoned, "and take your trouble away with her."
"Perhaps ... she will," Lord Limbstrong seconded but with a tone that sounded his misgiving.
Then the four headmen surveyed with their inquiring eyes the training ground to see the progress of their toiling men.
At the end of the day, as the sun was winding up its shine to give the day its rest, Abid-nego arrived from Eathercrest. He was with the twenty guards who were given order to usher the Captain and the young woman to the city. Noticing the arrival of Abid-nego and the guards, the crowd gathered around to acquire knowledge of their errand.
"Lord Limbstrong ... I am given order by the King to arrest you and the daughter of Oarwell," the eunuch spoke to the Captain who met them in front of his tent. "It is my plea that you come with us peaceably, for ... for you are a noble man and it is unseemly if we deal with you forcibly and count you as a common captive." His respect for the Captain remained even after the mistreatment that he had shown him.
"I will come peaceably," Lord Limbstrong answered. The eunuch's plea was to him reasonable. Furthermore, he willed not to show to his men any gesture of defiance to the King's order for his men were predisposed to act similarly, them being not yet deeply rooted to the polished ways of a royal man of arms. "Be rested then for the night and tomorrow ... we shall go."
The eunuch and the guards thusly searched for a place to rest.
Later that same night, while everyone was resting, Shim went to the Captain's, wanting to lift his soul as she saw him so down and disheartened. Perchance he is the one to whom the olden minstrel did refer, she thought, and that perchance she could persuade him to go with her and flee. Inside the tent, she stood before the Captain and uncovered her self fully, declaring her willingness to lie with him for the night.
However, the Captain was deep in his distress, he was not moved. He sent her back to her tent, instead, saying: "Be rested ... for tomorrow will be a long journey for us."
Shim then left the Captain with her heart seemingly breaking. She felt crushed to learn that the Captain had not at all thought of taking her to a place afar. Furthermore, somewhat cast down, her soul tried uncertain which causes pain the more: to be sent away when she was willing, or to be forced when she was not. Those thoughts lingered in her soul as she went back to her tent.
Inside the tent, seeing that Shim was desperate in her dislike to be brought to Eahtercrest and before the King, the maidservant gestured that they leave the camp on their own and under the cover of the moonless night. But Shim willed otherwise for serpents, she had been cautioned, crawl about, vicious and venomous. The thought of the serpents caused her to shudder. Anew, the maidservant conversed with Shim, gesturing that she too be taken to the city. But Shim likewise disagreed for the fear that the wrath of the King may fall upon her as well. She instead urged the maidservant to go back to Mosskin and render her service to her mistress.
Drowned deeply in their helplessness, the two women lay wakeful inside their tent and wistfully let the dreadful moments pass.
Before long, the new day broke. The warriors stood along the way to get a lasting look at their captain for they were unsure whether they would see more of him in the days that lay before them. The three leadsmen of the division came to Lord Limbstrong in his tent to bid him farewell. To them, Lord Limbstrong left a charge saying: "Occupy until your rightful Captain comes."
Soon afterwards Lord Limbstrong and the rest headed for the city. He was with Abid-nego in the lead, each one riding on their horses. As they rode along the narrow road that led to the ground below, a serpent appeared from the edge, wanting to cross the narrow road. Its dark green scaly form was as fleshy as the arm of a child and as lengthy as the two arms of a grown man, spread apart. It crawled lingeringly across the dusty road with its tongue stabbing from its mouth, seemingly pointing to where it wanted to head.
The sight of the serpent troubled the horses that they were on and began to rise and prance. While Lord Limbstrong and Abid-nego were endeavoring to calm their horses, they heard a sound of a galloping horse, followed by a shout saying: "Stop the woman's horse!"
They looked back and caught a glimpse of the two hind feet of the ash-colored horse as it fell from the edge of the road and down to the merciless rocks.
"Pillars of mercy!" Abid-nego exclaimed. "She ... she went off the edge!"
"She failed to calm her horse!" declared by one of the guards, trying to ward the blame off him.
Without delay, Lord Limbstrong and the others rushed down to the ground below through the sloping road to ascertain if life still did cling on her who fell.
The men in the camp, stunned in disbelief, gathered by the edge of the road and craned their necks to get a vision of the woeful sight down below. They saw that the horse somehow survived the fall and crawled towards the rising sun, leaving a trail of blood as its wounded belly rubbed against the dirt. Between two boulders of rocks, on-the-other-hand, they saw the body that was covered with the blue-colored covering lay motionless.
A while later, they saw Lord Limbstrong and the rest arrived at place of the fall. They watched as one of the palace guards climbed off his horse to see if there is still a sign of life on the fallen body. Then they saw the other guards went off their horses and gathered stones and small bulks of rocks to form a grave for the remains. White stones were placed on top of the gathered stones and rocks to serve notice that it was indeed a grave.
Lord Limbstrong, as he took a final look at the grave, felt an incomprehensible feeling that was growing inside him. A feeling of affection repressed by his war-hardened heart ... but was blown out by the mournful sight.
Abid-nego was gloomy. "Now death awaits me in Eathercrest," he confessed with rare fluency.
After some time of crawling, the horse gave up, lowered its head, and lay dead.
Lord Limbstrong and the rest arrived at the city right before the darkness of the night completely shaded black the plains and the skies. The journey took a day long, but in the eunuch's heart he wished that it could have been much longer, better still, forever. He understood the gravity of his failure and was convinced that the wrath of the King will surely fall upon him. He went straightaway to the palace hall and, with fear and trembling, he gave account to the King who awaited him on his throne after being told that those from Barrenhill had arrived.
When the King was told of what had come to pass, he was shaken with horror. The bad tiding was like a spike that fastened the curse fatefully upon him. It was then that he was convinced of his wrongful deed. His judgment had been hasty and was driven by ill will, he realized.
With so desperate a predicament, he could think of no one else to seek for deliverance but from the Good Spirit. From the hall, he then went to his chamber of solitude - a chamber at the other side of the wall that stood behind the throne - to burn fragrant oil for the Good Spirit. He took hold of the thoroughly polished silver lamp that was filled with fragrant oil which was on the platform by the wall and lit a fire on it through one of the four torches that was hung on the four walls of the chamber. Then, he once again placed the lamp on the platform and, before it, fell on his knees and cried out to the Good Spirit saying: "Indeed ... I erred in my judgment. I wasted the blood of an innocent man."
Once again, his soul brought into his remembrance the eventful afternoon where he condemned to death an innocent man. Vividly, he remembered the despairing face of the old man, tears falling from his eyes, begging for mercy notwithstanding his innocence.
"O Good Spirit who showed mercy to my forefathers," the King begged, "shield me, I beg thee, from the deathly curse … that I may redeem my self from my misdeed."
For a while he remained silent and, as he immersed his soul with the fragrant scent that filled the chamber, in his heart he earnestly implored the Good Spirit that He may lend an ear to his petition.
The Captain and the guards were led before the throne and found the eunuch already inside the hall. They sat on a bench of stone that surrounded the pillars of stone in the hall, and waited for the judgment that the King may lay upon them.
Abid-nego quietly stared at the throne, heedful of every moment that passed without the throne being sat upon for he knew that the one rightful to sit upon it holds the power to declare the dreaded pronouncement. His breathing was with quick regularity, with each breath stealing away a portion of his shattered will to live.
"Our death is certain," one of the guards uttered, sounding his despair. The other guards sat on the cold stone benches speechless; their teary eyes glinted similar expectations. They were yet in disbelief that, without perceiving it coming, they were overtaken by the daunting shadow of death.
Lord Limbstrong was still and steadfast, ready to meet his death. In Barrenhill, he conceded, his condemnation had been declared ... and so comes the reckoning.
After some time, the King came. He appeared through the door on the left side of the throne and slowly walked towards his throne carrying himself upright to uplift his soul. Those brought before the throne thereupon fell on their knees and lowered their heads.
When the King reached his throne, he sat and examined each one with his stare, making sure that rightful judgment be laid upon them. The eunuch and the guards, they have always been with him in the palace. He gave them not so much concern. But Lord Limbstrong, he hadn't seen him for quite a while. Still very much a warrior, he noticed. "Must I condemn this man?" he searched his soul.
Then he lifted his upper body and took a deep breath. Resolved of his judgment, he pronounced with heartfelt humility and compassion, "From the Good Spirit, mercy I do beg; so to my people, mercy I must bestow. Be free therefore and go ... your duties await you."
Those pardoned were amazed. Mercy was the last thing they thought they would be given; yet mercy was the very thing that they received. They left with their hearts filled with awe towards the King.
