The four friends were riding along the road, Will riding the horse and the other three walking on their way to the tournament. Anna had recently given Will a haircut and a shave and, even she had to admit, he looked handsome. "It's my turn to ride," Wat called exhausted. Anna wasn't, she'd just gotten off the horse at the last mile.
"No," Will responded. "We haven't reached the mile marker yet. And I'm not sure you should. Suppose we pass another knight, how would it look if my squire rose while I walked?"
"I don't give a witch's teat! It's my turn! It's my turn!" Wat shouted as they came to a stop.
Roland, ever the peacemaker, intervened, "Eh, look, maybe no one should be riding. The horse is not what he used to be and we need him."
"Fine, fine, fine," Will said as he started to dismount and paused as a blonde haired naked man covered in dirt walked passed them.
"Morning," the man said.
"Oh, good God!" Anna gasped and looked away, shielding her eyes since it was not proper for an unmarried woman to see another man naked.
"Oi, sir," Will called still in shock as he dismounted completely. "What are you doing?"
"Uh, trudging," the man replied. All four of them were silent. "You know, trudging? To trudge? To trudge the slow, weary… depressing, yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in his life… the impulse to simply soldier on."
"I know what trudge means," Anna mumbled to herself as she peeked through her fingers just enough to join her brother and the others.
"Were you robbed?" William asked the man.
"Interesting question actually. Yes. And at the same time, a huge, resounding, 'No'. It's more of a sort of involuntary vow of poverty, really. But, you know, on the brighter side, trudging does represent pride." Anna noticed the other three moving forward so she followed quietly keeping her eyes on the ground. "Pride, resolve, and faith in the good Lord Almighty. Please, Christ, rescue me from my current tribu-" The man suddenly cut off the end of his sentence and shouted in pain." Anna glanced up curiously and saw the man hoping on his foot before covering her eyes once more. "-lations."
"Who are you?" her brother asked.
"Lilium inter spinas. The lily among the thorns. Geoffrey Chaucer's the name. Writing's the game." Anna nearly gasped, recognizing the name. He couldn't be that Chaucer, could he? "Geoffrey Chaucer, the writer?"
"A what?" Wat inquired. Anna slapped him for his lack of awareness in the world besides tournaments and food.
"'A what?'" Chaucer repeated. "A writer. I write with ink and parchment. For a penny, I'll scribble you anything you want from summonses, decrees, edicts, warrants, patents of nobility. I've even been known to jot down a poem or two, if the muse descends." Unbeknownst to her, Chaucer appraised Anna as she stood there amongst the men. "You probably read my book, 'The Book of the Duchess'."
Anna nodded, "I have." The four men glanced at her curiously. "Sir Ector taught me to read."
"And what did you think of it, milady?" Chaucer asked her.
"It was all right, lots of pretty words though." The man didn't respond for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Well, it was allegorical."
"Is that your excuse for lack of a point?" Anna continued. "It was merely an analogy for your opinions of the state of the government?"
"We won't hold that against you," Roland jumped in. "That's for each man to decide for himself."
"Did you say patents of nobility?" Will asked suddenly.
"Yes, that's right, I did," Chaucer replied. "And all of you are?"
Thankfully, Will was fast on his feet, "I am Sir Ulrich von Lichtenstein from Gelderland. And these here are my faithful squires and my mad, Delves of Dodgington and his sister, Dorthea… and Fowlehurst of Crewe."
"I'm Richard the Lionheart. Pleased to meet you," Chaucer announced sarcastically causing Anna to roll her eyes behind her hand. "No, I'm Charlemagne! John the Baptist!"
Will had apparently had enough, "All right!" Will drew his knife, scaring Chaucer to the ground. "Hold your tongue, sir, or lose it."
"Now you see that, I do believe… Sir Ulrich," Chaucer said quietly, slightly out of breath.
"Thank you… Geoff."
"Have you anymore to say, Master Nude, or, having failed your test, may we be on our way?" Roland asked as the four of them left Geoff on the ground and walked back towards the cart and the horse.
"Oh you're off to the tournament are you?" Geoff called.
"This is the road to Rouen, isn't it?" Wat pointed out.
Anna half-smiled not looking at the man still on the ground, "And why would a naked writer care where we're off to?"
"Well, you know, that really remains to be seen. See they're limiting the field at Rouen. Noble birth must be established for four generations on either side of the family. Patents of nobility must be provided." The four of them stopped in their tracks and looked back at Geoff. "Listen, clothe me… shoe me, for God's sake, feed me, let me ride that horse a bit and you'll have your patents."
Wat glanced at Roland, Will, and Anna, shaking his head, "No."
"Patents of nobility," Will whispered to them so Geoff wouldn't hear.
Roland nodded, "We need him. We need him."
"I don't trust him," Anna said with a short glance in Geoff's direction.
"We don't have to trust him, but we do need him," Will insisted causing Anna to huff.
Wat put up his hands, "Let me handle it."
"Be nice," Roland ordered.
Anna snorted, "Give him a good scare." Roland just looked down at her and she shrugged nonchalantly.
"Nice, nice, nice," Wat chanted to himself before he crouched in front of Geoff. "All right. Betray us and I will fong you until your insides are out… and your outsides are in and your entrails will become your extrails. I will… pain, lots of pain."
Anna laughed, "Come on, Geoff. I'll get you some clothes, then we'll continue on to Rouen."
