A Rama Empire novel - All Rights Reserved
Copyright of G. Talmont
The Remish Knight
(435 p. CP)
After a seemingly endless conversation with the Mayor of Etlet, Merek was finally allowed into the town prison. When the door to the hallway with the cells was finally unlocked and he stepped inside, he felt certain Ulenna must have decieved him. Surely the man he saw there, could not be the man she had said to trust beyond all doubt. Remish knight or not, he looked like a hoodlum and smelled even worse.
The man was tall as a tree, possibly six feet two or beyond, and broad to fit it. But his broadness was of muscles and bones, and not of fat, for the guy looked trained to kill. His head was bald and his clothes dirty, and his nose looked to have been broken at least twice and in different places. His eyebrows were thick, looking as if they wanted to fight the world. A loaded aroma of stale alcohol and sweat was awash within the prison, and it all originated from the man sleeping on the floor.
"This can't be him," Merek said aloud, despite the fact that the prisoner was undoubtedly Remish. "You've got the wrong man."
The guardsman shook his head.
"This is him all right," he confirmed. "Knight Thorem of Remer, under oath to the Remish King, or at least that's how he's presented himself the twenty times he's been through here."
The guy on the floor opened an eye to look at them.
"Is it morning already?" he asked brusquely. "Or are you jabbering just to punish me further? My head thunders worse than a dry storm on the Plains."
Merek stared at him in complete disbelief and a bit of disgust.
"It's morn," the guard told the prisoner. "And this man here says he's looking for you."
"Sir, I've been told to look in this town for a Remish knight," Merek explained hesitantly.
"You've found him," Thorem said, obviously uninterested and bored with the situation. His eyebrows were actually distracting for Merek to look at, they were that bushy. "What for?"
"The sword smith's daughter-" Merek began, unwilling to use her proper name in case the brute might chose to cheat him by claiming to be the knight he was searching for.
"Ulenna!" the man behind bars shouted and scrambled to a stand, banishing Merek's hope. He closed his hands around the wooden bars with a wide grin. "The broad of my heart! The Lady of the Sword! She sent you? No doubt to pay for me release, though how she knew I was imprisoned when it only happened yesterday, I do not know."
Merek felt his heart sink to his toes, as the realization that his purse would be lightened yet again hit him.
I'm lucky if I have the cloth it's made from, once this trip is over! he thought bitterly.
"How much is the release fee?" he asked the guardsman with a heavy soul.
"Two silver bits and a half, the usual for the drunk and disorderly," the man told him, his eyes laughing. "Half a silver for each day's containment to go."
"Six days for fighting drunk?" Merek asked with incredulity. The normal was two to three days, depending on the town.
"It's not exactly the first time he's done this," the guardsman said apologetically. "The Mayor has officially demanded that he be sentenced longer, since the usual haven't fettered him at all."
"Psh-" Thorem interrupted and waved off the critique with one meaty hand. "It isn't my fault that people in this town is most impolite."
Merek stared at him, only his courtly manners preventing his mouth from standing agape. This giant was no where near apologetic for the fight that had landed him in prison, and yet, everything else seemed to point to him being the man Ulenna had spoken about.
The guardsman lost his patience a bit, and began thudding his fingers noisily against the cudgel in his belt.
"You going to pay or not?" he asked.
Merek took a deep breath and took to his purse, counting out the square bits for the guardsman to keep. The man wrote both a release paper and a proof of payment for Merek to keep, in case someone should raise issue with the Remish' early release.
"I feel we're going to be great friends!" Thorem grinned, throwing a heavy arm over Merek's shoulders despite the bard's attempt to avoid it. "What's your name, anyway?"
Major shout out to Lillyannp for catching a mistake I made in the last part- Thank you! You rock! And thank you for the support.
First draft; Last edited 7nd December 2017