Yep The Messenger Take Two '
Decided to try a new Format, enjoy.
Don't own anything but my characters.
"Old man."
"Hmm." The man blinked rubbing his eyes as he had gotten quite comfortable in the spot by the inn's fire as he glanced at the man who nudged him a few times by the toe of his boot. He made a shooing motion with his hand, muttering something how young people had no more manners.
"Old man, they say you are a story teller."
The old man took notice at that, as he shifted his weathered cloak so that it say more comfortably around his shoulders. He didn't give a reply, as his hand found instead the pint of ale he had been enjoying. The fire cracked, illuminating for a moment the series of faces that had gathered that night. It was a sleepy place for the traveler to stay in, but these weren't the sort of travelers he was used to.
Strong young men with shields and swords by their sides, loud, but minding themselves when the inn keeper was making his rounds. They are like ravenous wolves tearing at everything in front of them.
"Hmpf. Perhaps I am." He gave a nod, "What interest is that to you? "
The young man laughed at that and answered, "Why dah yah think? There is no one here who can carry a tune, say a lass who has grown sick of our company for dah night. We are leaving but in a half nights time, and sleep evades us. Fickiled thing it is, so how about it? A story."
'You speak a pretty speech for one who carries himself like a prowling bear."
That earned a few gauwfs from the side, of the other hidden members of the inn's den, but the young man wasn't phased. The old man shook his head, 'I have no tales of maidens with fair bosoms or tales of valor. Times are to dark for such tales."
"Yea, but ya have tah know a tale or two Brimm!" A cry came from the side as a finger shook a fist at him, "Go on give us a tale, something we like tah hear."
There were a few more cries, as the old man stirred beneath his cloak, he always enjoyed an audience.
"I do have one tale." The old man nodded, as he leaned back by the fire, "I happen' 'pon her when she was coming back from her called her the north wind, because she blew in from whence no body knew, but you knew her when ya saw her."
"What? I thought you said no tales about maidens-" A second solider as the others laughed.
"I didn't say how ole she was." The old man cleared his throat, as he leaned forward so the fire would cast an unnatural glow upon his face. The room became comfortably silent, held in the tension for what he would say next.
He instead to another gulp of his ale as he wiped the back of his beard with a hand, "Where was I? Oh yeh. The north wind. She wasn't nothin' to be'hold, she rode a great, fat, pony at never picked up its poor heavy 'ead as it plodded along the road. Yah didn't dare laugh at it though, it was like her fierce and full of a fight."
"A girl on a fat pony, that ain't nothing." Someone raised the cry in the back as the old man laughed.
"Oh I said the same thing, when I saw 'er, but the company she rode with said differently. Strange men, dressed in cloth that stained like the earth, hair black as night, and eyes that stared through ya bones. She danced gaily round them, as they happened by chance 'pon me as I had 'pon her."
The room was in a flurry of whispers, as the door creaked open letting in a few more guests. The old man hid his smile, he would have a good audience for this tale.
"Eh! What happen' then! They carry a weapon?"
"Dah biggest sword known tah the land of men, strange craft, with the hilts shine on the sun, they had more on 'em, but their swords hung at their sides. I told myself "these are warriors of ole", and I guessed correctly they were takin' the north wind back beyond the mountains. " He raised his voice so it boomed around the room, as there were gasps, laughs, and greedy ears.
"Ya sayin the wind was a girl?" someone asked, a girl who worked the kitchens. Sharp witted vixen she was, as the old man gave a serious nod to her.
"Oh, yes. For the wind is a woman indeed, she is there tah make a hot day cool, to blow a man ship to his home, but when she's scorned she blows hard and chills yah. The wind is a woman who is a wild spirit can't eva be broken by the will of ah man." He raised his hands with the motion bringing them down violently on his legs so his palms gave a smart thwap that echoed nicely around the room.
That pleased quite a few of the women in the room who gave each other knowing smiles as the younger men simply scoffed at each other.
"Do yah see why it took such strong warriors to contain 'er? Given 'er a chance she would make 'er pony gallop cross the skies." He raised a finger pointing at them, as if they would dare to contradict him now.
"How many were there?"
"Seven at least, perhaps more ahead, servin' in case she broke free." The old man answered not bothering to see who asked, "There was one or two fair headed creatures, long and elegent they were, their beasts pure silver like der master's hair. Long slender bows they carried with gold tipped arrows, but they rode behind this main company, makin sure the north wind wouldn't escape back to their land."
"But where were they taking the wind?" A younger lad asked sitting at his brother;s feet. The old man leaned forward as he gave a slow bow of his head.
"I asked em the same question. Who can know ere the wind comes from? They knew though, they knew very well. I begged them to tell me the tale, but they claimed they had not the time."
"Then how?" The cry went up within the room as he waited for them to calm themselves.
"I asked the north wind herself. She was more than happy to sit and tell me her tale, an 'er guard had tah keep 'er company. We stayed in a neat little place deep from where men go, a place known to them and 'er alone. A cavern deep in the shadows of the world, that kept 'er hidden." He took a breath, "Would you like me to go on?"
"Yes." The lad chirped from his brother's feet, speaking what no one else in the room wanted to say. If your urged a story teller they were less likely to tell you the story.
"Well, her tale begins far beyond the gates of the white city, a place far beyond tah reach of mortal men, where she roamed with her sister the earth an her brother the sky. I asked her why she roamed so far, and she answered in a wild speak, it took me but a moment to understand. Her tounge was naught of mortal men, but harsh like the rolling river and yet sweet like the chirp of a sparrow in the morning light, and her words tangled themselves, so she often had to begin again."
He took another pause, "She said this to me, 'She ad to take a letter all the way past the land of the horse men, to the golden fields where more folk like the silver haired giants roamed. They were giant mind you, towering over the rest of the company, only off set by little folk that ran bout their feet."
There was a rolling laughter at the thought of such things. He could see them clearly in his mind though, they moved with the grace of cats, eyes shining in the dark even as he refused to sleep. He did not crack a smile as the crowd slowly stopped their mirth, as the crackle of fire resumed.
"A letter?' I asked her, "What need does the wind have for a letter?'
"She began her mad laughter as her words danced around my ears, but she refused to slow down so I might understand. I instead bowed to the wind, and listened with what mah bones told me. She had found the letter in the hands of a wandering spirit, a young soilder who had died in battle or perhaps struck down on his way to take it."
"She claimed in these words "I swore on mah sister tah earth that I would see it to his place."
"The poor north wind, cannot read what was written, the spirit had carried it for so long and the letters so strange. It did not stop her, oh no, she said she jumped upon 'er pony and rode him to where it might be."
"I asked instead 'Why then do you travel with strange men?' To this she would not say, for the north wind is young and her guard told me their story. Her path had been a destructive one."
"If you had seen 'er, a girl no bigger than the lass by your feet-" He signled out the chef's girl who beamed at the idea, "They said she had brought down a mountain, she had caused a river to flood, everywhere she blew trouble seemed to stalk 'er, so they were sent to bring 'er back. I of course refused to believe such silly nonsense-but I do often take the word of a man serving the harsh master of battle."
"What she look like?"
"How'd she take a mountain?"
"Tell us more bout them warriors!"
"Oh, all in good time, I must first begin with how she came about the letter, for that is the route of all this trouble-" The old man answered as he threw back his cloak so he could have better use of his hands. His feet firmly planted on the ground and the draught of ale at his side.
He heard the steady beat of the drum, soft, ever so lightly as he smiled timing his words to the beat, "It was a shining day an the north wind had been chasing the river once more-"
