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HE TURNS AROUND AND sees his manly reflection in the mirror. The man is surprised to see his firm body naked. A loud knock at the door interrupts his wild thoughts. He hears the voice of the innkeeper’s call. The noble knight snatches the cover from the bed that feels cool and silky on his skin. He opens the door.
“Etty sent me with warm water,” Sack says.
“Thank her for her kindness.”
“Warm towels, too. And more.”
Sack places cotton face washers and a bar of soap into Garty’s arms.
“Thank you.”
The silk cover drops.
Naked Garty pours the large jug of hot water into the basin on the sideboard.
My joyful morning.
His baritone voice reverberates as warm water invigorates his body. He must pluck the most beautiful flowering plants and bring them to Miss Weasley in a bouquet of fragrance. He wonders which colors would suit her personality best, pink, red, white, yellow. She is sleeping by now. His sleeping beauty.
Slack walks past with a bucket of feed. Realizing that he should ask permission to snap off the beautiful flowers from their beds, he stops and turns to him.
“I was wondering if I might gather a few of your beautiful blossoms to take to Miss Weasley. I will pay for them, of course.”
Innkeeper Sack stops, holding the bucket aloft.
“The Weasley’s left, having some urgent matter to attend to...”
He chose his words well and continues speaking.
“The sulky is gone and their horse. They left over thirty minutes ago, in great haste! Before I brought you hot water.” He continues walking towards the chicken pen.
Garty stands still, stunned!
“In that case, I shall do what I must do!”
The innkeeper is out of his hearing range.
He dashes inside to grab his cape.
Madam Etty walks past at that moment. Garty realizes he does not know which way they went? He calls out to her.
“Can you tell me which direction the Weasley’s drove? I must catch them anon.”
“They live in the rose cottage at ‘Hills Reith’.”
Then she stops. Her countenance is not a happy one.
Garty listens.
“I fear for the young woman. Her brother was in a frightful state of mind.”
Etty stares at Garty’s, desiring some explanation that might comfort her, but he has none to give but the worst kind of information.
“Do you know why they left?”
She waits for Garty to reply.
“Jazzon was quite stern with his sister. I must go in haste to catch them...”
Garty eschews to share more.
“If I am satisfied that Miss Weasley is not in harm’s way, I shall tell thee!”
“Wait.”
A few moments later, she reappears with a cloth full of baked scones and melting butter.
“You must eat.”
Garty accepts the food. Now, he must get his horse saddled and head towards Hills’ Reith, a place he noticed on his map a few times ago. It is less than a day’s journey; he reckons.
After, he leaped on his well watered and fed horse, Brill, who is keen to ride as usual. Garty kicks his heels into his ribs and they are off at a good trot.
Garty knows he must take a shortcut to catch them. As they gallop, his heart races with anxiety over what might befall his dear friend, who delighted him so much. Absorbed in his thoughts and what he might encounter when he meets her brother, he does not notice a caravan of marauders coming towards him in the distance. Before he can turn away, they spot him.
He recognizes the sulky.
The leader, with his hair flowing behind him and his face intent on finding prey, shouts.
“That’s him!”
A shot is fired at Garty from about 50 yards.
Garty ducks and weaves on Brill, through the nearby trees. The knight sees there were three men. He considered trying to negotiate with them, but they did not appear friendly, and now seem determined to kill him. The man ducks behind his horse’s head and whispers to his beast, “Brill, faster.”
Garty hears shouts in the distance as bullets whizz past. He heads towards a small thicket.
Then it happens. His head strikes a branch on a tree and Garty finds himself flat in the dirt. Brill has gone ahead. He shouts.
“Go Brill, go on...”
The horse turns back and then disappears into the nearby thicket.
Garty was surrounded by three men. He sits on the bare earth, winded and sore. One grabs his throat and points a pistol at his head. One, wearing a leather cape, straddles him, mocking.
Garty recognizes him as Black Mack, a notorious bandit who boasted about murdering a man with his bare hands. His associates are also criminals. Barley Rock, once a champion wrestler, chose the path of violence and thievery. Baddy Pin, pale skinned, hair like straw, was a bank teller, now a bank robber.
“Let him go!” Black Mack speaks in a powerful language. Barley Rock released his grip, squeezing Garty’s jaw so much it almost snaps in two.
Garty struggles to breathe, amid ideas to save his own life. Boyhood instincts come to mind. He looks for the weak link. His pistol was loaded.
If I can grab my pistol cock with my fingers, I can fire at least once, then run towards the trees and take a chance....
A steel boot strikes his cheek.
He wakes to argumentative voices in the distance. I am in Hell! No, he sees blurry trees. His chest hurts so much he breathes in gasps. He has no shirt on. His jacket and cape are gone. They left his shabby underwear. His feet are freezing. His boots are gone and were not his at all!
His head falls back, and a groan comes from his throat. He stumbles to his feet.
“He’s not dead!” says Barley Rock, punching him in the face. Time’s over. Garty swoons against a tree.
“Enough,” the voice of Black Mack..
Barley Rock growls.
“What do you choose to reveal, Mr. Garty?” Black Mack shouts.
Garty looks up.
Black Mack, dark and leathery from years of waiting for victims at noon. His shadow shields the setting sun.
The noble knight tries in vain to stand up, but pain knocks him down.
“What do you want from me?”
Black Mack steps back a pace.
“You’ve got my clothes, my money, my pistol... what else do you want?”
“I am dying...”
“Where is she?” Black Mack said, leaning forward.
“Can you hear me? I am Black Mack, and I am king of highwaymen. You are in my territory!”
“Who?”
“The princess,” Black Mack said, his lips curling and spittle landing on Garty’s face.
“Dead. She is dead!”
“Liar,” says Black Mack.
“We follow you. We know all about you.”
He spat.
“I have tried to find her, but to no avail...” Garty’s words trailed away. “It is true, he moaned.”
Black Mack turned to Baddy Pin and Barley Rock.
“So, what lies have you been telling me?”
The pair argues back and forth, voices rising.
They step away from their leader.
“We heard you were bringing her to the royals.” Baddy Pin speaks in a jittery voice.
Black Mack shakes his fiery head. “Looks like you were one hundred percent wrong.”
“We shall bring a message to the king’s brother, Axemanix, and tell him she is no more!”
He turns to Garty.
“So, is she dead or alive?”
They stare at Garty.