Minstrels of NewCastle

[Degorram]

The following four main characters are inspired by actual men I have met in my many adventures. My thanks to them for giving me the ideas to break the curse called "writer's block". Even so, it's not very good: just something I popped out in desperation.

 

 

 

The forest was silent with the heat of a late afternoon. Golden beams of sunlight, rich with the color of a coming sunset, stained the leaves and mosses an elegant orange-yellow. At the edge of the forest an expansive field stretched, hedged in on all sides by the enormous rock formations that enclosed the space like the walls of a bowl. Sparse bushes and thistles grew sporadically among the gently waving grass. Completely flat, one could see each individual herd of row deer flitting among the shadows cast by thunderheads above. A gentle rumble of thunder warned of coming rain. As it echoed between the mountains, it grew in volume and shook the expectant earth below with its power. A wind struck up, swishing through the grasses which hissed in anticipation. Their thirst was about to be cured.

 

Three riders halted their passage across the valley, their cowled heads turning to examine the white puffy clouds which were swiftly taking on the ugly blackness of the storm's anger. The wind passed through them again, this time cold and harsh. The riders' identical, black cloaks whipped about them and they held onto the wrappings that covered their faces lest they be blown away. As one they turned toward the forest, their last refuge for the night.

 

They reached the trees just as the rain descended in a torrent of noise and cold air. While the dry earth of the field was quickly soaked, the spreading branches of the trees prevented the insistent drops from caressing the mosses of the forest floor. The riders halted and dismounted stiffly, turning to gaze at the storm as it darkened the mountains with its clouds and lit the valley with its lightning.

 

"How long will it last?" one of the riders asked, turning to the tallest of them. He spoke slowly, curiously, and his voice was deep and velvety.

 

The tallest rider considered the question carefully, watching the clouds and the rain. "A good while, I believe," he replied in a high, youthful voice. "It is a good thing we have reached this forest."

 

"Indeed," another of the company said. He was the shortest of the three, and he spoke swiftly. "Shall we camp here for the night, Euphrates?"

 

The tallest turned to face his companion, shrugging indifferently. "If you wish, Amazon, but I think we can make a few more miles yet. The sea is not far now, and I would not want to keep our friend waiting."

 

"We may be able to continue," the rider with the deep voice said, "but the horses are tired. It would be unwise to push them."

 

"This is true, Endeavor," Euphrates replied. He nodded thoughtfully, but said nothing more and the group lapsed into silence.

 

They continued to watch the storm, leaning against their steeds, mesmerized by the noise and movement of water. A few minutes passed without a sound.

 

Euphrates jerked himself from the hypnotizing effect of the rain and looked about him. He turned to his horse and began to remove the protective coverings that encased his body. First he unwound the black cloth from around his head, wiping the sweat from his face with it and breathing in the cool forest air. His skin was shockingly pale against his long, dark hair which flowed in a straight cascade down to the top of his back. The slightest breeze shifted it about his face, which was long and thin, crowned by a slightly crooked nose that gave his visage an all around charming look. Next he took the black over coat from his shoulders, revealing the tight, black tunic and trousers he wore below. The loose shirt was gathered about his waist by a black strap of leather, and the ends of the tunic hung to just above his thighs. Sleeveless, the tunic bared his muscular arms. Outer clothing now removed and packed atop his horse, Euphrates expelled a loud sigh of relief and turned to regard with dark brown eyes his companions, who were following his own actions.

 

Endeavor also unwrapped the cloth from about his face, but left the head covering on, the folds loose about his neck. He was a man of dark complexion, with a black beard cropped close about his quizzical mouth. His eyes were soft and dark as his skin, and always seemed to hold some sort of question deep within their depths. He wore an outfit practically identical to those of his companions, different only in the long sleeves that covered his arms.

 

The shorter one, Amazon, was pale as well, but the rusty brown beard that grew on his face, worn in a similar fashion to his friend Endeavor, gave the illusion of a tanned complexion. His brown hair was cut short, which in an obvious action of defiance tended to spike in an unruly manner just above his flexible eyebrows. His eyes, also a dark brown, were sharp and humorous, and his face, though solemn, barely hid the bright, wild smile beneath.

 

As darkness fell and the rain continued to fall, the men unloaded their horses and set up a small, meager camp. They stretched a large square of tarpaulin between four trees and sat beneath it until sleep overtook them.

 

**************

The morning dawned cool and silent, rousing the men from their rest as rain water trickled from the leaves to plop upon the canvas they had stretched over their heads. With equal silence to match their surroundings they packed their things.

 

Euphrates crouched down on his ankles and spread a map out upon a large boulder, examining its contents astutely. "The forest is several miles in width," he said, drawing his long fingers across the picture.

 

Amazon walked to his side, chewing a biscuit vigorously. "We have a good way to go, then?"

 

Absently Euphrates brushed the crumbs expelled by Amazon's voice from the face of the map, studying it. "Not necessarily....there is a pass between this forest and the eastern mountain that leads all the way to the sea."

 

"Which is where we are going." Endeavor said from where he stood beside his horse.

 

"Indeed," Euphrates replied, folding the map after one last glance. "We should reach the sea port by noon. If Rendell has secured us passage on a ship by now, we'll head to England...a place called New Castle, I believe."

 

"Then let us be off!" Amazon cried, mounting his horse. With small smiles his companions followed, setting out into the valley once more.

**************

The ocean-side town was small, dirty, and crowded. Equally dirty people standing next to their booths of various items to sell clamored for the attention of the three men, who swiftly descended from the town's center to the port below. Four or five large ships had berthed in the haven, their flags rippling with the wind, sails slack.

 

"How are we to find Rendell again?" Endeavor asked, looking around at the less crowded street that ran parallel to the sea.

 

"With little difficulty, I expect," Euphrates said, lifting himself up out of his saddle to look around. A few moments later he extended his long arm and pointed at a dark figure waving at them. "There!"

 

They nudged their horses down the street to come to a stop before a ship entitled the Bloody Yankee. Leaning against a pile of crates was a man dressed identically to themselves, grinning broadly. His golden hair was thick and cut just above his shoulders, and his bright blue eyes laughed as much as his mouth. "You took your time," he said.

 

"Well, next time you can ride across the country with all our belongings," Amazon said indignantly.

 

"Is this the ship Rendell?" Euphrates asked, dismounting and scanning the name emblazoned on its hull.

 

"Aye, that's the ship," Rendell replied, also turning his gaze. "The name's not to be so enjoyable, but her captain is trustworthy and it's heading off to England within the week."

 

"Excellent well," Euphrates said, smiling. "To England!"