C aptain Noil and the lord major entered the most popular alehouse at Modos, a city of cutthroats and international scoundrels engaged in underground trade. In fact, the king had scheduled a stop off and planned to deliver a speech promising to rid the town of corruption. The morning of the fateful day, however, he told Noil that he would by-pass the loathsome town to spare the princess’ sensitivity. Noil intuited that the king was being only partly honest: for many years now the young man sensed the king’s thoughts and actions seemed always elsewhere.
The fighting men sat down at a table and ordered a light meal. Notwithstanding their trying day, they were in no mood for a hearty meal. The search party to the channel’s edge had returned to report that it had searched till darkness set in but there was not a trace of either the princess or the corsair on the salty moor. Further, two members remained behind to search the tiny island in the morning.
They glanced about a while more out of idle curiosity than security, for these brave men feared nothing and knew that no one would dare challenge the royal insignia blazoned in red across their black tunics. Noil did not, of course, court the red dragon, signifying knighthood, as the Marquess had sewn to his shoulder. A bent-over old porter delivered them two mugs of ale. Noil’s eyes followed him and then he turned to the major and observed with laughter, “Thank the good Lord my duty is mainly in the city where the pretty girls serve tables.”
The major laughingly agreed and added pointing to the bar, “And where the barrel-tenders are much more wholesome than that,..though, I think, I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
Noil looked over at a bedraggled bony wench whose dark black eyes seemed to sink into her head and her hair stood up like a bat had alighted there. “I’ve seen more wholesome keepers in Barah.” …
Copyright © 2008 Richard R. Kennedy All rights reserved. Revised: Aug 3, 2008.
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