I couldn't leave you with just under a thousand words. The story is still getting started. Thanks to my friends for the proofreading and encouragement!
The Western Warrior
Chapter Two
The night is a lonely one, it is cold, dark, and all around him is just silence. The only noise is from the gentle movement of his mail as he rocks back and forth in the saddle to the swing of his horse. Richard can barely see in front of him, he can only make out around ten foot in front of him as he travels; he has to constantly check to make sure he is still on the road. As he is travelling, he can't help but think about what's happened: being forced into going on a crusade when he doesn't want to, being thrown out of his own home because he was the third child to his father. The members of House Hill only ever treated him with the basic levels of respect; never any true love or affection. The other brothers looked down upon him and Richard often fell victim to regular 'brotherly' fighting. That's why he became a knight and learnt how to command, and to also try and earn the respect of his father and siblings. However, Richard became a scarred knight after witnessing an awful act.
In the distance, an orange glow appears as he passes over the crest of a hill. It lights up the darkness all around him like a beacon. Slowly Richard can start to see outlines of an encampment with candles at each tent and banners raised high displaying the cross of the Crusaders. After travelling for three hours in the cold night, it is a welcome sight. Further into the encampment, the port can be seen. A small cluster of buildings surround a harbour with docks that're filled with ships donning the crusading cross. After passing the first few tents, he spots the local tavern and heads for it.
Richard reaches the tavern. It was three stories high with stables, and has a sign hanging over the door displaying a merman and a trident. As he dismounts and ties up his horse in the stables, he can already hear the noise from inside. Loud, thunderous voices all laughing and bellowing; even at three hours past nightfall. Richard opens the door and is hit with the heat rushing out to greet him and walks into the furnace. "I tell you, I, a humble master of fighting will kill a thousand infidels!" One man shouts in a crowd of soldiers that're all crammed onto a single bench. Suddenly, Richard feels someone grasping his left arm and he turns to face the person in anger. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing!" Richard demands.
"I'm the tavern-keeper and I have asked and asked again if you wanted a room or not and you weren't answering!" The tavern-keeper shouts. He let's go of Richard's arm and looks at all of the finery that he is wearing.
Richard's anger cools and he looks at the middle-aged man who is plump with un-kept black long hair and beard to match. He leans towards the tavern-keeper so he can be heard. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hear over the noise. I am Sir Richard Hill. I am joining the crusade and require a bed for the night. Is there room?" Richard asks over the ambient loud noises.
"Yes Sir, there is a room still free if you have the coin. It'll be costing you sixty coins. The room is just to my left, up the stairs and the first door on the right." The tavern-keeper said with such confidence and no sense of negotiation.
'Three times the cost for a single room for the night? This man certainly knows how to profit from a crusade.' Richard thought with only a slight sign of disgust making its way to his face. He opens his coin bag and starts counting them. "Fine. I'll pay your price for the night. I have a horse in the stable and expect him to be fed and ready to go in the morning." Richard puts sixty coins down in front of the tavern-keeper and walks off before the tavern-keeper can object.
The tavern bedroom is small, but the bed is suitable. There is a chest at the end of the bed and the bed itself is in the corner of the small rectangular room. Richard places his belongings in the chest and settles down to bed. Trying to block out the noises from downstairs he lays on his right side with his left arm pressed against his ear. After a while he drifts off to sleep.
In the morning as dawn broke, the tavern was peacefully quiet. Richard awoke and got dressed again in his armour and finery. Slowly packing up his belongings from the square chest with metal bandings to hold it together. Exiting his bedroom, he can already smell meat on the fire and other scents of food that he can't quite make out. Upon reaching downstairs, he sees two children hard at work behind the counter. "Begging your pardon Sir, would you like bread and some soup?" One of the children asked.
"Yes, thank you. Are you the tavern-keeper's children?" Richard asked as he sat down at a bench that the noisy soldiers were at last night. "Where are the rest of them? Those that were here last night."
The boys looked at each other for a second, then back to their work. "Yes, Sir. We are, our father owns the merman and trident." The child said. The other child who seemed slightly younger and clearly scruffier said "And the rest of them are getting aboard the ships for the Holy lands. It's just you here." Richard looks in a slight panic but the scruffy child adds "But my father has seen to your horse and has arranged passage for you on the largest ship in the harbour: the Invictus. They say she can traverse far beyond the known world and no storm can sink her!" He looks at the child with a sigh of relief.
"I expect this will come with a cost as well? Not just out of his generosity I presume?" His breakfast was set before him carefully by the older child, his hand left out and waiting for a tip.
"Of course, father said it'd only cost you an extra twenty coins, plus another thirty for his going out the way. It was the least he could do he said after you asking him to take care of your horse for you." The older boy said unaware of an act that resembled revenge for Richard having the last word with their father. Richard paid the child a tip and ate his food.
After breakfast, Richard heads out into the bright sunlight in search of the Invictus, she wasn't hard to find. She stood out from the other ships; Invictus loomed above the other ships and took up an entire side of the dock. Canvas sails with a crusading flag at the crow's nest proudly hanging with the flag of England hanging at the stern. There was multiple decks, one dedicated for rowers, one and a bit for cargo, and half a deck for crew. Above that, there was the main deck that was open to the air where archers and crossbowmen guarded and then the cabins for the Officers. Invictus was out of place here, in this small port with cobblestone roads and wharf with a small cluster of buildings forming a hamlet around the harbour. Everywhere there were barrels and cargo being loaded onto the ships, men already up and about, boarding the ships for the voyage.
Richard headed to dock of Invictus and saw the tavern-keeper with a man who looked so rugged it seemed as if not even the worst storm and sea swirls could faze him. "Ah, Sir Richard Hill. This is the Captain of this fine vessel" The tavern-keeper said.
The Captain looked at Sir Richard with curiosity in his eyes. "I'm Captain Bartholomew… So you're the knight who's made my crew move cargo around to fit that giant horse of yours? – And – make one of my Lieutenants sleep with the men?" Bartholomew said accusingly.
Taken back by the accusing tone of his voice, Richard had an almost shocked look about his face. "If this man" He points at the tavern-keeper. "Has arranged me passage on this ship to the Holy lands with my war horse; so I may join and aid in commanding the Great Army, yes, I am." The tone of his voice was very authoritive and final. "Now, there is a small issue of payment. Here is fifty coins tavern-keeper. You sort out whatever your arrangement is with Captain Bartholomew." And he handed over fifty coins to him.
Without a second glance, the Captain took his money from the tavern-keeper and he walked up the ramp with the Knight. As Richard reached the top, he turned around and called out to the tavern-keeper. "You certainly know how to make a profit from this crusade!" The tavern-keeper just smiled and called out "Yes, I do." And walked back to his tavern.