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“JUST BABY!”
I sound uninformed.
The woman surprises him once again.
“Many had no names; we gave them names.”
She pulls open the file that is quite stuck together over years of moisture, dust and neglect. Garty reaches over to help her, but she shooed him away. “Go away. Leave it to me.”
There are many files in a row. He watches as Mrs. Nagg rummages through dusty brown files that crumble at her touch. She takes out a bundle as if she has won a prize. She places them on the round table.
“These all have no names at all! Your best chance!” She turns to leave.
“May I look at what is inside?” Garty asks.
“You can do so. I must water the chickens, otherwise we will have no breakfast. I love a boiled egg, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for his reply.
“I shall leave you here, if you don’t mind, for a time,” she suggests. Her face has brightened and her mission is clear, to help friends and he was now her friend.
“I shall take good care of them, friend. I enjoy a boiled egg very much!” She threw back a grin as he said that. He pleased her very much, it seemed.
Garty stared at the pile of dust-impregnated brown files. The knight despaired. He thumbs through one by one.
He reads the scribbled headings: gender of child; state of child; date and time; comments.
He separates files by date, gender. Files are now more readily scanned. The pile is diminishing. He scans all comments, looking for one word: scarlet! His eyes race with his finger, keeping up the pace, reminding him of his glorious race with Crystalina today!
What a joy, he muses, smiling to himself, and at once loses track of his project.
He pauses for one moment, closing dropping his eyelids, believing he was hugging her, caressing her round breasts, indulging his manly senses.
A bird squawks. Garty comes back to reality, rebuking his soul for its departure from his task. Get on with it, man!
Garty harnesses his mind. He has checked thirty of the fifty files; still nothing.
He remembered Crystalina said her mother, a true gypsy, was also a liar. He felt she told him the truth, and she did not ask him for money, a very honorable trait. As his finger moves to the last ten records, he stops thumbing. The word scarlet is written thereupon, in red ink.
His eyes boggle for a note. He has to read the entire report. Could he take a page from a gypsy’s book and remove this file?
He dared not wait for Mrs. Nagg to turn up and give him a lecture and take the files away.
He needed more time! It was getting late, and he was starving. He could not stay for dinner. Thoughts of Mrs. Bouchée’s fine roasts, pies, stews, grills and baked goods arouse his hunger pains.
He takes the folder with the notes and slips them inside his cape. Mrs. Nagg stands in the doorway.
“Did you find what you wanted?”
“A few details need checking.”
He feels the stolen stiff paper in his side.
“Another engagement awaits. I must get away.”
He stands up and stares into her face.
“I shall keep you informed about the king’s problem. I must put these files into their places...”
“I shall take care of these.”
She clucks.
“The chickens are watered. I found two laid eggs. One for you and one for me.”
“I must hurry before darkness falls.”
She nods.
He pulled out a coin and placed it on the sideboard. “For the chickens.”
“I am glad I could help a friend.”
“You have been most helpful.”
“Please return when you have time.”
She slips the coin in her apron pocket. Now picking up scattered paper and shuffling. Garty watches heart in his mouth.
“I shall see thee out.”
“Thank you.”
Garty felt like screaming.
The last thing he remembers about her is the long bony hand holding the door ajar and her eye glued upon his person.
Brill had helped himself to a nice snack of wild grasses and flowers nearby, along with a clear pond that held darting goldfish. The pond is empty now, and Brill is snorting. He hoped they were hidden behind foliage or underneath some small rocks. However, he suspected Brill may have had a snack of fish. Garty does not admonish Brill but pats his neck. A horse is a horse and can do as it pleases, he reminds his inner man.
“Thanks for waiting, friend.”
The horse throws his head up.
“Okay, we are going home now.”
Garty leaps on his steed’s sturdy back. He bumps his knees into Brill’s sides, sparking a fine trot along the now darkening laneway as the sun creeps behind the hills, closing its day.
“It was a long day, Brill. I am famished! I still could not eat this lady’s boiled egg.”
Garty rode his faithful horse a little more slowly, to ensure the horse was kept in good stead. This faithful horse has endured this day just as well as me, he reckons.
Dusk has almost blanketed the streets of Scatt. Lamps are glowing. Pulling on the reins, Garty whispers, “Whoa boy,” scanning the streets in the dim lighting.
Garty notices a sulky and three horses tied at the inn. Brill snorts.
Steering Brill towards a back street, Garty pulls his hat a little closer to his eyes over his forehead and clings to the grip of his pistol. He senses who these folk might be, and his heart beats at double its usual pace.
“Quiet,” he whispers to Brill, who has a knack of being able to move without a sound no matter how rocky or hard the earth beneath its hoofs. His steed understands his command and walks, making a clink. Garty dismounts at the rear of the inn, where everything is quieter. Servants dart in and out of buildings, as usual.
He leads Brill into his allocated stable and almost scares the pants off young Bubba, who is raking the hay.
“Sorry!”
Pausing her work, looks at Garty’s countenance with an expression that appears as if she has seen a ghost!
“I should be sorry for frightening you.”
“I was doing my job.”
“Praise you for loving Brill for me.”
Garty notices a hint of a smile on her face.
“You have guests tonight?”
“Yes, we do.”
“I have new friends, my favorite. We have no room left. I shall work something out.”
He loves seeing her so happy, creating comfortable places for horses.
She was created for this.
“Where have they come from?”
“They arrived about an hour ago and had a sweat. I had to cool them down. They are happy now!”
A figure appears.
“There is work you know?” Ted said.
“Sorry. I will give Brill his nosebag,” said Bubba.
Ted had not seen Garty.