Another morn begins, and the routine stays the same and the day passes slowly. Barlow came in and gave me a flask of his ‘special’ grog which if he expects an old man to wet his whistle before noon he is mad! Let alone try some concoction produced by a con artist! For some time it has just sat on my desk vanishing in the high heat of summer.

The castle has been quiet but I have heard some walk by talking of a stranger, a wanderer dressed in odd robes, has come to our small fief. They said he was tall yet some said he was of a height that was nothing special. They all agreed he stood out like a man wearing pink at a funeral procession. They said he was wearing a dress and his chest was showing. He sounds like he is not from around here and he does not know of our customs.

It is not a crime to dress inappropriately or to spit in public, but no one will get a warm welcome. Here where nothing changes a barefoot man could be talked about, but a man completely out of the normal could cause the entire castle to watch his every step. Let’s hope he does nothing to give anyone reason to accuse him.

Time passes and nothing appears to have happened and I have not over heard anything of this man, maybe he left. I stare at the grog Barlow brought me seeing the waves inside slip side to side. I look up at the door then back at it. I start to reach out then retract my arm, how could I think about drinking such a potion! But it is something new and nothing has happened and my obligations are through… what the hell. I grab the flask in a quick jolt bring it to my lips and take a small chug.

……………

How smooth. Its taste is robust and strong yet it melts and vanishes in my mouth. So exquisite and new, anyone who is weak in the skills of drinking will choke and most likely vomit. A drink made for those who have the tongue such as I. I lift the glass to my nose and swish the grog, there is no scent. What a delight!

A soldier clad in silver armor clangs into the room and stands at attention. I wait for him yet he just stands there. I stare into his eyes and he stares in return then his face mask slips and falls shut. I smirk and give a small laugh at the sight. Now peering at him through a slit in his helm both him and I just remain still waiting on the other yet I know he is waiting on me, does he know I know?

“Yes?” He loosens his plates and releases a sigh, he walks up to my desk and about trips having his halberd enters the front center of my desk. Damn it… I liked this one but he only sank in about two inches, so at least it won’t hinder its use. He quickly ‘tries’ to recover and he once again stands tense and armor rattling. “Yes?” I question him again as then he takes a deep breath in.

“Artemis Cristo,” he sounds like he is reading a roll call, “As scribe and keeper of the archives, you are hereby summoned to the main hall to take note and record the case of Garland Piper, accused of theft.” How monotone his loud commanding voice bounds off the walls. But the name or Garland does not ring a bell, I wonder if he is our stranger. And now he has caught the public’s eye he is a poor kid but that just means he will be leaving or fief earlier than he planned.

I follow this klutz of a soldier to the main room which the walls seemed to be decorated with the castles banners evenly spread on the walls. And across the room centered on the back wall in Lord Williams in his… small throne, it is always an odd sight to see him in it since it is only used for diplomacy and as a court.

To the right of the throne a desk has been set up most likely for me, and to the left is a man bound and in odd robes, most likely this Garland, and a man looking rather angered, I believe he is a butcher. The iron dolt leads me to the desk and Lord Williams smiles at me.

“With the arrival of our scribe let us commence the trial!” He turns and faces the bound man on knees and his head is lowered to the ground, the light makes his mid length dirty blonde hair glimmer. On either side of him are soldiers clad in the same armor with no pole arms but sheathed swords.

They pick him up and the man does not lift his face but his clothes came as a shock and startled me. He wore a loose off white shirt with no buttons on it but looked as though it was tucked. A v shape opening from it exposed his center chest. He wore a sash around his waist of a green color with slight yellow it looked like some sort of clothing he would wear over his shirt but I am not sure. But bellow that is not pants but a dress of the same green color. Yet under that are pants also loose and puffy that are bound by what I can guess in an elastic ring around his ankle. And on his feet are sandals but not ones of common design to us. If my resources are correct this man has come from the Far East. But his clothes are in poor condition, tattered, dirty, and have a stench I can smell from here.

Lord Williams looks him up and down, “Where are you from?” he asks. A slow raise of Garland’s head happens only to then let his head slump to his shoulder. His face reveals him of western origins. With his eyes half shut, mouth expressionless, and head cocked at such extremity, this man is either out of energy or could care less. He does not respond but rather he peers at Lord Williams. “Well? Where are you from?” I can hear a slight agitation in Lord Williams’ voice.

“My mother’s womb.” The Lord snarls at him yet this Garland does nothing.

“Where have you come from? Why have you come here?” the Lord persists.

“I, Garland Piper, who arose from my mother’s womb, came here passing by and nothing more.” The Lord tightens a fist as though wanting to strike. Maybe I should step in.

“Your robes are of eastern origin. So you have come a long way, wandering no doubt. Would I be correct Garland of Mother’s Womb?” he smirks and glances over at me with black soulless eyes.

“I came from Japan, but I am from England.” After finally giving us the proper information his yawn as to show that he is not amused.

“Thank you Artemis, now Garland. You are being accused for the theft of six loaves of bread do you admit to these crimes?!” Oh so he was the baker not the butcher. Well He had bellowed this as it had then echoed throughout the room as if he was intending to scare Garland. Yet he does not waver instead he remarks back by releasing a loud yawn. “Well?!” this power act seems to be failing our young Lord.

“You think if your loud I will talk more?” huh. Well he at least seems to be bright enough just lacks the initiative to actually put it to good use. “But to move this along yes I did.” Lord Williams’s smiles.

Then he stands and walks in front of Garland. “Then if you return these loaves we will release you and ask kindly of you to leave.” Garland who is back to looking at the ground starts to itch his nose then pick it. He obviously has no respect for the feudal system.

“Sorry no can do.” The king looks surprised since this is the first who refused to ever decline this deal.

“And why is that?!” Roars Lord Williams, who is starting to get testy with our anarchist stranger Garland.

“Simple, I’m a starving, poor wanderer what did you think I did?” Lord Williams stumbles back and returns to his throne holding his forehead, as the baker stomps to the front of Garland and spits.

“How could you eat six loaves of bread in just a quick time?!” he pops his knuckles as if he will hit Garland based on his response. Garland looks up at him with those careless eyes that do not fear pain.

“I have been starving, but I give you my compliments on such tasty bread.” The bakers actually praises himself as both Garland and I smirk at this but then the baker remembers that the loaves were still eaten and not paid for.

“Hey you bastard pay me for my bread or I force you to give my bread back.” Such an odd threat but I believe Garland is made of harder materials than words.

“Well if you wish for your bread back I will give you six loaves.” The baker seems puzzled I believe I know where he is going. This should be interesting.

“I pinch one out every night and give it to you.” I have to cover my mouth from the laughter, as the baker has to hold himself from killing Garland. Lord Williams also retains himself as Garland seems to be self satisfied. The baker then acts out of character and strikes Garland across his check yet Garland’s face shows no mark and no change in expression, this man is made more than words he is made of steel.

“Wilbur Skyre! You may leave and go back to you bakery. Maybe it shall please you that Garland Piper will be put in the dungeon.” The baker smiles then pats Garland check with his right hand. Then strikes him again, in shock I stand and so does the Lord. “You are dismissed Skyre!” He glares at Lord Williams then makes his leave. Garland then starts to laugh and stands as the guards do not react or hold him back. The baker turns to face him with a good ten paces in between.

“So weak that you must strike a bound man to feel powerful? Even against your Lord’s will. What a sad sight.” Garland then proceeds to laugh t the baker. Garland is purposely antagonizing the baker so in rage the baker attack him. Garland, are you now indulging your own need to fell powerful? Or are you showing us what you can do?

The baker charges at him and no one makes a move to stop him. The baker cocks his right arm back as to attack yet he is swinging to close to him and Garland makes impact with his right knee to the baker’s gut. The baker’s body bounces slightly into the air and I swear I felt a pulse leave from the body and push against everything else in the room.

The baker falls to the floor cradled on hands and knees coughing up blood and trembling, this Garland is a powerful man yet he hold some respect for life and people. On the other hand he spits in the face of man’s order and structures of society, such an odd character. One of the guards helps the bloodied baker leave and I presume back to his shop since there was no immediate re-entry of the guard.  

“Quite the show of force, Garland Piper.” I acknowledge his demonstration as he looks over at me with easy eyes instead of the lifeless ones I had been seeing.

“Well do two accounts of assault against the thief redeem the accused?” Ha! Good question and luckily for me, I don’t have to bother with answering it. Lord John Williams ponders drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne. His wedding band glimmers in the candlelight.

“Well, you did have him attack you with intention of us seeing your power, that could be a threat, let alone your stunt could be seen as verbal harassment.” This was unexpected; the Lord usually is forgiving and willing to bend sides for you. Garland seems to be slightly surprised Lord Williams’s reaction with one of his thick eyebrows arched.

“It is nothing against your Garland Piper. Many here don’t care much for the out of the ordinary but as for me, I welcome it.” So that is where Ashley gets her curiosity from. If I remember correctly I also told him tales of magic and demons. “So as of tomorrow you will be released and quietly escorted away, in the meantime please be our guest.”

Garland smirks and his eyes become easy as he stands tall and his not noticeable blonde whiskers of a beard shine. “A guest in dungeon quarters how ironic, I will comply.” As expected, how could a wanderer hungry enough chose not to stay and sleep on bread and eat free food? Lord John smiles and stands and stretches out his arms.

“Wonderful! Men, give him back his items he might be seen as a prisoner to the baker but he is a guest in my home.” A man walks carrying a long shafted wooden pipe and a most peculiar weapon. It had a straight handle with a woven pattern of black lace and cloth leading to a hand guard. It was a ring but openings and carvings show one half as a moon and the other as a sun with small spikes coming out of it to represent rays, or so I can see and I guess.

But beyond that is wooden shaft that is slightly bent, black as night with a silver metal cap on the end. Is his weapon a stick that looks like it has never been in use? Or is there more to it? I must know.

“Excuse Garland, what is that object in your hand?”

“I was about to ask the same thing Artemis.” The Lord says to show his interest in it as well. One of the guard’s jerks and moves forward as to address a situation.

“Oh! It’s really incredible! There is actually a blay-.” He locks eyes with Garland, who stands beside him, and stops as in frozen in fear. Garland radiates a posture and feeling of back off, it’s mine. The guard backs off and Garland moves his way in front of Lord Williams. He held it with his right hand under the hand guard, with the handle face up and forward then he grabbed the handle with his left, as I presumed a sheath.

He draws a blade also curved as the sheath and only a little bit shorter. It has a flat back, which is the inside of the curve. And from the point to hand guard on the outside of the curve is what looks like a sharp blade. Yet they are many chips and scratches on the blade, it looks like it has outlasted its use. Yet he still keeps it.

“Why keep such a beaten and bruised weapon?” Lord Williams beats me to asking it, but I’d rather him ask than me. Garland smirks and shakes his head as if he knows something we should but don’t, which may be true.

“It’s the only one I’ll use, you think I would keep a battled blade if I had no attachment or use of it?” he says it as he is lecturing, no scolding us on basic information, where it’s no more than deductive reasoning, a guess. As I absorb the situation Lord Williams laughs, what is there to laugh at?

“But it’s useless! My cooks have knives that can cut more efficiently than that scrap metal.” Garland eye brow hunch and a scowl runs across his face, I can understand why he is so angered after being insulted. The Lord is a simple man and only goes on what he sees, to ask him to look forward at his consequences is something a Lord should know and do, but John does not, has not, and most likely ever really have the need to.

“I see, so are you issuing a challenge?” Garland quickly sheathes his sword and glares at Lord Williams as to see if he accepts so he can redeem his blade, or so I speculate. Lord Williams smiles and relaxes making light of the situation.

“No it wa-“

“Then I challenge your finest blade!” Garland draws and aims the blade at the Lord Quick enough it was a second before the guards or even I reacted to the situation. The Lord still is smiling make light of a more serious situation, the downfall of an inexperienced Lord. And the Guards take up arm around him, all of them shivering in their suits, another show of our kingdom’s lack of experience.

“I shall arrange it for you my lord; it shall be in the morn when Garland pleases since he IS our guest.” The Lord looks at me and nods to confirm my proposal and Garland shows his response by sheathing his blade and excusing himself from the room. Yet different is seen as a threat to many here in this castle as the Lord said, I welcome it.