As the foursome walked down to the stables, Mirlín remembered she had promised the stall-owner that she would get her horse, Midwin, the first thing in the morning. It was noon already.
"What kind of a horse do you own?" Desiderius asked her.
"You'll see. He's a fine gelding." Then she frowned. “He did put up a hell of a fight, though. When he was gelded.”
"Oh… that’s understandable. My Snappy is in the same stables, actually. She's my horse.”
Fyen looked incredulous. "You named your horse Snappy?"
"Oh, I didn't. It was my mom," he explained, receiving odd looks from his companions.
Mirlín smiled at Fyen who looked so much like a little warrior with her highwayman's sword and boyish clothes. Something about the way the girl had changed reminded Mirlín of herself. At least I'm here now to look after her. I've learned most of the traps the world keeps in store for young women.
They walked inside the dark stables. The owner, Gendar Rheingard, was nowhere to be seen.
"Mirlín, do you know how much horses usually go for?" Fyen asked.
"It depends, but I believe we'll be able to haggle," she assured and walked to the stall where Midwin was chewing hay. The horse lifted his head and chortled when he saw the woman.
"This is mine. His worth cannot be counted in silver or gold," Mirlín smiled and stroked the gelding's gray head.
Reynaer stepped closer to the horse and then looked at Mirlín. "It was you I saw on the road! Riding away from the two highwaymen, right?"
The woman nodded. "Yeah, we met these two jolly chaps... whose swords you seem to have acquired."
The man grinned. "I just put them to sleep and took their silver. Or is it your silver we drunk last night?"
The woman laughed. "Nah, I managed to shake them off."
Reynaer shook his head. "Dumb fucks."
"Where's the stable guy?" Fyen wondered aloud.
Just then they heard footsteps above them. Someone was walking around in the stable attic. Soon a man descended a set of ladders on the other end of the aisle.
"Good afternoon, what can I do for you?" the man asked and walked closer to them.
Mirlín recognized him as Gendar but the man looked more worn and tired today. "Good day, I came to pick up Midwin, and also, we're looking for a mount for her," Mirlín explained and pointed at Fyen.
"Right, what kind of a horse are you looking for?" Rheingard asked from the raven girl.
"Er... something that doesn't throw me off its back and takes me where I want to go, I guess?" she replied and looked at Mirlín for help.
"Well, in that case you do not want this bay mare that was brought here yesterday. She is born evil, I tell you. Sure, she's a pretty horse with a white star on her forehead and all but a pain to handle," Rheingard told them.
"Do you have any older geldings for sale? The horse has to be mellow and easy to handle," Mirlín said.
Rheingard led them to a nearby stall. A brown horse peeked over the door and chortled.
"Aww, he's so cute!" Fyen exclaimed.
"Let's take a closer look," Mirlín said and stepped into the stall. She looked at the gelding's teeth, examined his legs and hooves, and ran her hands on its shiny chestnut coat. She looked satisfied after walking back to the others.
"Let's tack him up, I better try him first," she said to Gendar.
The horse looked excited when Mirlín lifted a saddle on his broad back and he accepted the bit calmly unlike many other horses. Soon Mirlín walked the gelding to the yard and mounted the animal. She requested the horse to walk, trot, and canter and they also performed some circles and random stops in the yard. Mirlín was pleased to notice that the horse seemed suitable for an inexperienced rider. He moved softly, in an almost lazy manner, and seemed not to fear by-passers, birds, or any other distractions of the bustling village. Pretty well-trained, Mirlín concluded. One thing she was unsure about was the gelding's size. He stood at least 5'5" tall and the hooves were large. In fact, the gelding resembled a knight's horse more than a little girl's. However, his temper seemed mellow, his gait was soft and even, and he had strong, straight legs.
"Fyen! You mind if your mount's this big? You fear falling down from these heights?" Mirlín shouted at the girl.
"Well, I've never ridden before but I guess I dislike falling just as much as the next girl... if that's what you mean?" Fyen replied.
"We can switch horses, you can have Snappy," Desiderius said.
"Uh, I'll choose whatever you recommend Mirlín," Fyen said hesitantly.
"What's the price?" the woman asked Gendar.
"100 silvers. That's a fair price for a gelding like that. The saddle, bridle, and a brush included. He's called Brownie, by the way."
"Brownie?" Fyen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, his real name is actually Borgin Gharthart III but Brownie for short," the stable master laughed.
"I think Brownie is cute," Desiderius said, nodding in approval.
"So I guess we'll take Brownie, then? Are you all right with the price, Fyen? In my opinion it's a fine horse," Mirlín said.
"I trust your judgment. We'll take the horse," the girl nodded.
After Mirlín tied Brownie to a beam next to the stalls, they all went inside to complete the transaction. As they walked to the aisle, a horse on the right started kicking the door and the walls.
"Bloody hell, it's that damn mare again! This time I'm gonna wring her neck..." Rheingard muttered and opened the stall. The horse got on its rear legs and whinnied.
"I recognize that voice!" Reynaer said as he stepped closer to the raving mare. "That's her! That's my horse! Nightmare!"
"What is it with the horse names?!" Fyen exclaimed, laughing.
"That infernal fiend is yours? Then you can bloody well take her away from my stall. You see, she'll knock the walls down anytime now," Rheingard wailed, his voice betraying utter despair.
Reynaer grabbed the halter and tried to get the horse to come with him. The mare tilted her ears back and flat out refused to move.
"Gods damn it!" Reynaer dodged an aggressive bite and stepped back to the others. "I never got along with that thing."
Mirlín's eyes shifted from the horse to Fyen, who was staring at the wild mare. Well, well, why do I get the feeling those two are going to understand each other? The raven girl stepped closer to Nightmare and extended her palm to the horse. Fyen tilted her head as the mare sniffed her hand. Slowly she raised her delicate hand and caressed the animal's neck. The fierce look in Nightmare's eyes faded and she calmed down noticeably.
"Damn, that thing would have chewed my entire arm off if I'd done that." Reynaer muttered in disbelief.
"I think you're gonna ride Brownie instead, Reynaer," Mirlín laughed and also walked over to the mare.
Fyen glanced at him. "That all right with you?" she asked, blinking her pretty green eyes.
"Since my choices amount to me running after that crazy mare or riding the gelding, I'll go with the gelding."
"I bet that horse is a man-hater," Desiderius noted.
"Or a man-eater," Reynaer added, "and not in the good way."
"It's settled then. Fyen, if you pay for Brownie now so we can get going," Mirlín suggested.
While the girl gave the silver to the stable master, Reynaer walked up to them. "Say, when you found Nightmare, she didn't happen to have a saddle, two saddlebags, shield, quiver, and crossbow on her, did she?"
"As a matter of fact she did. I have them in a trunk upstairs. I can fetch them if you hold on a minute," Gendar replied and disappeared upstairs. Soon he came back carrying Reynaer's gear. "Of course I looked what was in the bags but since I have no use for any of those things you carry in them, I didn't take anything. It's all there. There you go, good man."
"Thanks a million, friend. Here's three silvers for your troubles," Reynaer said and proceeded to mount the gear on his new horse.
The stable master nodded and put the money in his pocket.
"You have quite an arsenal there," Mirlín said, pointing at Reynaer's equipment as he was strapping the other highwayman's sword on the saddle.
The man shrugged and tapped his crossbow. "Well you know how it is, sometimes they try to run away."
Mirlín chuckled and turned to tack up her horse as well. Midwin sniffed the woman's cloak in search of hidden treats. One of the many things Mirlín liked about the horse was his ability to appear cuddly and calm when handled from the ground but when she mounted the animal, he turned fierce and forbidding.
After a while they gathered to the stable yard. Nightmare followed Fyen without whims, looking like a whole different horse now. They mounted their steeds as the sun was starting to set in the horizon.
"Where's Desiderius?" Mirlín asked. They looked around.
"I'm right here," a slightly miserable, almost accusing voice said. Mirlín glanced down and saw a furry, cream-white pony standing next to Midwin. Desiderius sat on the saddle looking self-conscious.
"Hey, Snappy," the woman said smiling while Reynaer roared with laughter.
After Fyen had gotten her gambeson and hose and said another teary farewell to Fryswyde, she had chosen a pair of fancy and rather expensive but practical, black, nappa boots for the journey. Her new outfit was a little more striking: the hose had laces on the sides reaching from waist to ankle although they were still loose enough to warrant comfortable riding. She had also stuck the embroidered hem of her tunic inside the waistband of her hose, apparently wanting her outfit to show nothing but black.
Reynaer wasn’t quite sure what to make of Fyen’s choice of apparel since wearing mostly black leather gave her a rather imposing an air, easily spotted from afar. She stuck out from a crowd and her entire outfit screamed defiance against the dress codes imposed by the Sons. Though he felt a tinge of pride at her refusal to conform to the will of their sovereigns, he was also worried that she would attract trouble when by herself so he made a mental note to keep a close eye on the vain girl.
They all had gotten the rest of the supplies they needed for the journey from a small village shop and now the party headed to the terrace of the Crying Cock for one more hot meal. Fyen ordered a roasted boar for the whole company.
"This one's on me, guys. Oh, and four pints of the house ale." She handed the silver to Catrain who disappeared inside. Fyen winked at her companions. "Got to have something to wash down the pig with, eh?"
Reynaer smiled but wondered about the girl. She had changed an awful lot in a very short time. Now she's drinking beer, strutting her little butt around like she's felled many a man, and the worst... or best of all, carries a blade. The first I saw her she was a tear-soaked wreck, and that was only yesterday! There was always an element of danger when somebody changed so rapidly, a danger that they went overboard and never came back. He had seen it happen before, young men and women who gave in to the darker side of life and suddenly found themselves in the gutter, sometimes being gutted at the same time. As long as she hadn't really seen the void, as long as the closest she had gotten to it had been in her imagination, if she had even imagined it in the first place, she wasn't in danger. He decided to give her a couple words of advice when they rode. This is not the time or the place.
"So, you thought of a plan yet, Fyen?" Reynaer asked while chomping on a pig's leg.
"Huh?"
The man washed the mouthful down with a large gulp of ale and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Our quest, if you will, to get your mother back. You given any thought to how we're going to do it?”
The girl looked at Reynaer and raised her eyebrows. “You guys are really serious about coming with me?"
The man nodded. “That's the plan and that's why we need a plan."
Fyen frowned and took a sip of her ale. "Well, I haven't come up with anything. I mean, I've never done stuff like this before so I don't really know how it all works. Do we need to gather more folks and storm the citadel, you know, be all up-front about it, or is it going to be some secret black-clad thing where we come down rooftops with ropes and cut throats quietly and stuff?"
Reynaer waved the pig's leg dismissively. "That's ok, we can figure it all out later. First we need to get on the road and then, when we get there, scout the premises to see what we're up against. Actually, come to think of it, I suppose we won't be able to form a solid plan until then."
Fyen's worried expression lightened up. "Well that's a load off my mind, Reyn! I'll drink to th—"
The man had grabbed her raised tankard. "Drink but don't get drunk. We all need to keep our heads together from now on."
The girl nodded, "I'll keep that in mind," and took another gulp of her ale.
Mirlín pushed back her plate of bones. "Does anyone actually know the way to the city?"
"I've been there a couple of times. I think I can find the way once we get on the road. Shouldn't be more than a five days' ride to the citadel," Reynaer said.
Mirlín glanced up at him, raising her eyebrows. "Well, that's good news."
After a moment Fyen looked at her companions, her expression serious. "Look, you've all been great, you know, just by being there when I had... have a hard time. I mean, it's a miracle we ran into each other in the first place, right? But what I wanted to say is that... well, I know this whole journey is kind of, like, my thing and I know you're all sitting here with me out of kindness but I can't afford to pay you anything and I definitely can't ask you to put yourselves in danger for me or my mum. Because that's what I'll be doing, I'll go straight ahead and break laws, I'll be an outlaw, and I can't ask you to do that, any of you." She lowered her eyes. "Just so you know, if you want to stay back in the village, I'm all for it. It's a suicide mission anyway, so please, just call it quits and we'll each go our own ways, yeah?"
Mirlín was the first to speak after a pause. "Fyen, we're not seeking... salvation just for you and your mother. We're all haunted by... some kind of shadows and now we have a chance to do something right for once. If I can help someone to find their lost parents, well, I'd be honored to participate in such a... noble cause. None of us would be better off alone, at least not in these times and in this country. Besides, I was planning on traveling to the city in any case so why not to, um, escort you there?"
Reynaer finished his ale and looked straight at Fyen. "What she said, kid. I know I've done plenty of things I wish could be undone but even redemption has to start somewhere and, well, why not here? Why not now, with you?"
Desiderius looked a bit confused, as if trying hard to think of a sensible reason for his participation. "Yeah, if someone needs salvation it's me because I have done... terrible things, beyond imagination and also... there's this thing I need to do and... find harmony and a sword and... then there's the damsels we need to save! There's the damsels all right."
Fyen lowered her head and her shoulders shook but when she looked up she was laughing. "You're all a bunch of nimrods, you know that? But I'm so glad you're coming with me, all of you. Thank you."
There was an extremely uncomfortable silence during which nobody could think of what to say or what to do until Reynaer raised his voice. "Oi, Catrain! Four more here!" Then he returned Fyen's gaze sheepishly. "One more never hurt anyone..."
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