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“GARTY MUSDO, FRIEND-,”
Please let me in! His mind screeched.
He holds a lighted candle.
“Come in Garty Musdo, friend of the king! Wipe thy feet.”
“My horse must bed down.”
“I shall be there in a tick of a grandfather clock.”
He disappears behind a closed door. Garty waits, becoming a little uneasy. Fifteen minutes later, the man, clothed in an oilskin cape and boots, holding an oil lamp, bustles through the door.
“Follow me,” he says, hobbling as he walks along the pathway and towards some old sheds. His oil lamp creaks, his boots squeak and even his oilcloth cape squeaks. Garty has no problem following him. “Here is where the animals sleep.”
Garty can take a good view.
“We have horse feed in this barrel.”
The innkeeper is pointing to a rather large round barrel in the corner, filled with hay and oats.
“That is sufficient, water?”
“Over here!” The man shows Garty a long trough nearby, with a pump.
“You can pump more water.”
Garty was satisfied.
“Is there a stable hand?”
The man sways his head.
“I will look after your horse. ”
“Thank you.” Garty says, unsaddling his mount and loading his person with knapsack and saddle bag, saddle, along with his rifle and pistol.
“What is your name?”
“Sack is my name. I will take some of those things.”
Garty said, “I appreciate your kindness.”
“Not at all,” said Sack, who begins a search for the blanket he promised. “I left it here somewhere,” he mumbles, tripping over something in the dim light.
“Where can I leave these?” Garty asks, holding on to his whip and straps, along with other items.
“Drop your tack there.”
Garty heads over there and releases some of his load, turning back towards Sack. He keeps his saddlebag over his shoulder.
“Go on inside Garty, for Etty knows you are coming and is preparing supper.”
Garty’s stomach is grumbling now, and he longs for a nice hot meal. He had taken the bread that Mrs. Bouchée had given him when it was hot. It is cold now. But he thought he may eat it later if the meal proved insufficient.
“Here, take this!”
Addressing Garty, handing him the oil lamp. “What will you do without it?”
“I have cat’s eyes!”
Sack laughs as he says this. It is a dark night.
“You go on in now! Use the back door, it’s open. I shall follow thee later.”
The man, covering the horse in a warm woolen blanket. Brill seems satisfied as he nibbles at the food in the barrel.
Garty finds the back door as Sack said: he pushes on the handle. It creaks a little. He sees doors on either side with numbers.
He makes his way through the short corridor and into a dining area. One table is set, with a couple dining, a young woman with golden hair and a pale face. The man with her is thin, bony, with a sour expression on his face. They glance his way as he enters the room. The aroma of stew fills his nostrils. A woman comes from a nearby kitchen, leaving sizzling noises in her wake. She wipes her hands on her apron and seems flustered.
“Good evening, sir. Do you want to eat now?” she asks. He sighs. His hunger had abated, but he yearns for a hot meal to keep him alive.
“It is a late hour, but I should appreciate a hot meal.”
“Not at all. We were about to close the kitchen when the doorbell rang, but we can cater for your needs. I observe you are overburdened with luggage. Would you like to keep your things with you?”
She appears younger than Mrs. Bouchée. Beneath her gray baker’s cap, her mousey hair is tucked in. Her apparel is a little less fashionable than Maud’s, charcoal being her gown’s color, causing her countenance to appear wan. She is also a little more flustered in demeanor, the knight surmises.
She ducks into the office at the front entrance returns with a key.
“I know how hungry men can be!”
“Thank you.” Garty follows her to a room nearby. She opens the door. He looks inside and is quite surprised at its generous size. There is a fourposter bed, cupboards, a lamp, and a table.
“Perfect,” he exclaims. She seems pleased with his response. She leaves him to prepare his supper. He hopes it tastes as good as Mrs. Bouchée’s food, but has doubts that Inns produced such homey and delicious foods comparable to Maud Bouchée’s establishment. It was a jewel in the crown of hospitality, he reckons.
Knight Garty finds a mirror on the wall above a water jug and basin and washes his face, drying it with a fluffy towel on a hook. He combs his tousled hair. I feel safer here. Only one person knows where I am staying.
“Good evening.” Garty said.
The young couple dining glance at him.
“Good evening.”
They appear to be in an intense conversation.
Garty sits down at a table nearby. A few moments later, Etty comes hurrying towards him, carrying a tray with a dish of sorts.
She smiles as she places the meal before Garty.
I might eat a horse right now. Not a horse, he corrects his thoughts. A horse lover and a knight would never eat Brill, his wonderful companion. He looks at the dish before him, reheated stew with a pile of what looks like rough potato mash on the side of the large porcelain plate. He observed a little steam, which cheered him up. A hot meal!
“Thank you. It looks hearty.”
Garty digs into the food.
Etty smiles then clears a few items away, including extra cutlery and glasses.
“Would you like a drink?”
Garty orders apple juice, as he had become almost addicted to Mrs. Bouchée’s delicious apple juices that seemed to lift his spirits well.
The food was not delicious, but it will fill a sizeable gap in my growling stomach, he reckons.
It tastes a trifle cold in spots. He devours the food anyway. Hunger is a great taste master, he muses. The couple exit the dining room, leaving Garty alone with several oil lamps and a few candles strewn around the tables. He counts four tables and eight candles.
Etty as she appears from the shadows to remove his cleared dinner plate.
“Thank you, I have had sufficient.”
She smiled and plodded to the kitchen with her tray of dirty dishes.
Very civil, he notes.
I trust the innkeeper to care for Brill. I must be off.
He heads for his room.
Garty falls into a deep sleep until sunrise. He hears the rap on his door. Madam Etty hurries in with a nice hot cup of tea.
“This will cheer you up, ’tis a wonderful day. I added sugar and cream.”
She knows what men like, Garty acknowledges.
“Thank you very much.”
Garty grabs the porcelain cup and saucer from her hands. He is a little distracted being in his nightshirt and underdrawers, but she didn’t seem to notice or care about his appearance. She pulls apart the curtains to bring light into the darkness. Garty flinches at the blast of light.
“Breakfast will be ready in half an hour.”
Her robust figure disappears from his view, and the door shuts behind her.
Before enjoying a leisurely breakfast, Garty determines to visit Brill to see how he fared through the night in a strange location. After a quick toilette, he heads out to the stables. As he walks through the property, he sums up his quarters. The knight feels pleased that its location avails his viewing of the local roadways. Garty would remain alert for any highway men coming to visit him for unknown reasons. He pats Brill and holds out a handful of feed on his palm.
“Good horse.”
The horse is not the only one. Next door to Brill he notices a pair of horses, and he sees another stable further along the way.
There is also a sulky parked in the yard, belonging to the young couple I met last night, Garty notes.
Having given Brill fresh water, he heads for the dining area once again. Its ambience is more akin to a formal dining area this morning. It seemed romantic at night. Now the sun brings with it the natural lighting, giving the room a soft coziness.
Garty notices the young woman is seated at the same table. He sits at the table adjacent, in case they may enjoy a brief conversation. He is, of course, always investigating possibilities of his quest for a princess. Every young woman is a possibility.
“Good morning,” she said.
The woman is smiling his way. She is reading the local ‘Jael Newspaper’, which she places beside her plate.
“Good morning.”
Garty sat at a nearby table.
I am surprised that she is friendly, after all. Perhaps they had a lover’s tiff, he muses.
“It’s a fine day. Is your husband unwell?”
She laughs.
Garty was not ready for that.
“He’s my brother.”
“Sorry, my mistake.”
Garty’s heart leaped.
He notices her golden hair in the morning light, set upon her head like a tower, with a few strands flowing around her ears. She seems sweet, he thinks, taking a solemn breath. She stands up and moves a few steps to Garty’s table, grasping the newspaper.
“May I join you?”
“Of course!”
The knight jumps up, draws the chair.
“I shall only stay a moment. He was still asleep, but will join me.”
Garty noticed her looking towards the doorway.
“Kiss you for joining me. Leave when you must.”
I understand they are siblings. The man had the upper hand; the woman was fearful.
“Is he also your chaperone?”
Often, he had met folk in the area who appointed male siblings to chaperone their daughters. He was surprised to see this type of arrangement at Etty’s establishment.