The Wayfaring Stranger and The Lady

After traveling by foot for so many days, I found myself less than twenty miles from Courte, the city of Plenty.

It is said that in this city, be it man or woman, a life can be had without fear of the King’s demands and his soldiers.

Of which, I had a brush with another far more evil of a king’s soldiers, not more than a week ago, and now, I am considered a criminal because I defended people poorer than I, and in defense, had run my sword through four of the seven soldiers demanding food and money on behalf of the king before they turned tail and went back crying to their king how they were attacked by dozens of men. Surely they couldn’t tell the king it was but one man that wrecked the king’s plans.

I go to Courte, for there, I will be given refuge. It is the only place across this vast country the King cannot cross. It is said The King of Courte is mightier than all the kings for a thousand lifetimes.

I whistle as I continue my journey and finally reach a small hilltop to see the road that leads me to my destination. And it was then my eyes took in a terrible sight.

There sat a coach in the middle of the dirt road, surrounding the driver and whoever may be inside, were five of the evil king’s men. This amazed me that they would be this close to Courte. Is their King perhaps planning something?

Being careful not to be seen, I run further down the hill, keeping myself hidden among trees and bushes until I can hear voices demanding all to come out of the coach and for the driver to hand down all valuables he is carrying to the Kingdom of Courte. The driver says there are no valuables.

The one who demanded valuables, brutally reached with his arm, and left a slashing cut across the driver’s face with his sword and laughed. He then turned to his men and told them to ransack the coach for anything of value.

It was then, the only one inside the coach stepped out. My heart be still. A true beauty could be found no place else but at this moment.

I quickly snapped my mind away from her beauty and then thought, these soldiers would look upon her as a prize and abduct her away, or far worse, take charge of her person and sully her flesh and her name. I could not allow that.

Reaching for the hilt of my sword, I quietly eased it from my scabbard, I continued to inch my way forward. Within moments, I was less than a few feet from the side of the coach where I couldn’t be seen, and the voices became clearer.

“You and your men shall face severe wrath from the King of Courte, I assure you.”

“Sweet wench that you are, I take no care for your king. I serve but one, and he will fall upon Courte like the devil himself and will be boasted of for all time as the owner of the Earthlands and none shall defy him, ever.”

“Captain, we have been through everything, and have found nothing of value.”

“There is one thing of value, if even for but a short while. Take her into the bushes and have your way with her.” He laughed loudly. His men joined in.

She protested. She struggled. She could not fight away.

As they turned the back corner of the coach, they stopped abruptly as a man stood before them who wasted no time as he quickly thrust his sword into two men and cut the throat of another. The fourth, released the woman and ran to the Captain.

“We are attacked, Captain!”

The Captain dismounted, withdrawing his sword, and started to make his way to where the trouble stood in his way, his lone soldier behind him, now scared.

The Captain now faced the menace of his source and the woman, now off to the left, stood with a resolve of vindication for what was about to happen.

“Captain, you will not return to your King, but I will return you to hell where you belong.”

Swords clashed, a thrust here, a swishing sound there, a pivot, a parry, and this was not to be easy as he was defending against two blades at once, but a good-stepped pivot and twist, the soldier fell from a thrust to his heart.

The Captain crisscrossed his blade in sweeping massive arcs trying to find the one open space to end this stranger’s life, but it was not to be. For just as he was set to lunge forth to the chest, the stranger had roiled away and on bended-knee, thrust upward until the blade ran through the Captain’s stomach. And with a single twist it was removed. The Captain staggered backward, unbelieving this happened to him, then dropped to his knees and made a final garbling threat and pitched forward.

Sheathing his sword, he turned to the most beautiful woman his eyes have ever seen, an image that would burn in his soul for all time, but he did not say that.

“M’Lady … no harm shall befall you from this moment forth. You are free to travel now.”

“Kind sir, I thank you. For was it not for you, my life would have been forfeit. You have my gratitude for all time.”

He helped her back into the coach. The driver had tended to his own wound and would take the reins to hurry faster to Courte.

“Where stranger, do your travels take you?”

“To Courte, to begin a new life, away from times like these.”

“Then I pray, I ask you ride with me, for Courte is my destination.”

“Your offer I thank you for, but my travels have been on foot after long days and nights and I would like to say I have made my journey on my own terms in my own way.”

“As you wish. But if I may inquire, what do I call the man who has saved me this day?”

“I am the son of D’Artagnan, my name is Charles.”

“Then Charles, I bid you farewell and a long life.”

The coach took off but not before it left my line of vision, and very briefly, I saw her look out from an open window and waved with a silken handkerchief which she let the wind take away. And he did not even know her name.

Never before had he been or thought so taken with a woman as she. Charles hurriedly ran forth until he found this silken cloth, shook it free from the dust, brought it to his nose and inhaled. A fragrance akin to a field of wild flowers filled his senses.

He knew then, he let a true Beauty, and might he add, one without fear, get away from him.

Charles continued the journey to Courte. She would arrive within a day. Charles knew he would need at least another three days. But first, there are bodies to bury, for even Charles cannot stand the thought of buzzards picking at the dead.

**********

Charles walked into Courte and saw the many shops, houses and the castle standing proudly where he first saw it from a mile away, but now, it’s massive setting seemed to rise even taller, as if implying its true reason for being a protection for the people.

Continuing his walk, he then spied a massive throng of people, all of which were cheering someone above them standing out on a landing. Looking up, he saw what and who they were cheering, and his eyes could not lie to him.

High above, stood the King as he made his announcement.

“People of Courte, my friends, today is a wonderful day for I present to you, my daughter, Goldina. She is to be wed to John of Cuttingsail in three days hence. A feast will be held for all.”

Charles, one of many who heard these words, smiled. Beauty though she be, my luck has once again run the gamut. But I would defend her again if the moment ever arose.

Goldina. stepped forth and gazed down at all the people and waved to all, with a simple but honest smile for all to see. As her eyes traveled from one side to the other, she spied Charles, and then for him, she waved and nodded her head.

Charles saw this and waved back. Then, both she and the King turned away and reentered the castle.

**********

Charles ended up making for himself a new life as a master builder of swords.

Goldina. went on and would become Queen of Courte and Cuttingsail after her father died and would reign as he did. Her husband would die in their eighteenth year of wedlock.

It was a year after when she visited Charles.

“I have never forgotten your bravery nor your kindness toward me.”

“Nor have I ever forgotten your beauty.”

“Beauty?” she laughed. “I am now fifty and wrinkles surround this beauty you speak of.”

“You shall remain beautiful in my eyes.”

“I thank you for this, Charles. But I must go. I have much to do, and tomorrow is the baptism for my son to be announced as Prince, who shall one day step onto the throne as Courte’s new King, and will one day rule in my stead.”

“If he is anything like you, Courte will continue its ways of peace.”

Goldina stepped within a breath of Charles and kissed him lightly on the lips.

“That is for saving my life, and for being a good man. You will be forever my true Knight. Goodbye, M’Lord.”

Charles bowed, then watched as she returned to her coach as it wheeled away.

Turning back to his work, he whistled no known tune when his son and wife came out of the adjoining house to his shop.

“Was that the Queen who just left here?” asked Alexia.

“Yes.”

“What did she want here?”

“Tonight, after dinner, I will tell you and Braxton, a tale that is true. One that even I sometimes find too good to be true, but—it is.”