The Adventure of Anna the Great Read online

Chapter II - Anna Errant

  Lifbau is a small nation. Three days of easy riding would take you across it at the widest point, and a day at the narrowest. I was a day and a half away from the capital, which was also called Lifbau. The city was my general destination. That was it, as far as the plans I told Andre I had.

  I had intended to ride for two hours and then rest until dawn, but I went on for three. I rode for the sheer pleasure of it. There is no joy like that of anticipation, and in all the things I have done since I do not think I have ever been quite so high as I was that night.

  Jupiter had caught something of my fever and was completely responsive, his fault being in over-eagerness, if anything. He sought the bit and yielded to it, arching his neck and prancing beautifully. Not many had mounts with as much spring in their steps. That night I do believe he was without peer.

  Calmed by sheer fatigue, we walked the last half hour. I found a copse of bushes off the side of the road, not too close so we would not be disturbed by any very late, or very early, traffic.

  I did not sleep. I was still too restless for that, and I was afraid that Jupiter would break away and run home. He rested well, however. I am sure he must have been tired from the workout.

  I had not realized how cold a warm September night could be at three o’clock in the morning. My clothing was damp from sweat, and now I felt quite a chill coming on. I had put my only blanket over my horse, for he had sweated more than I. I shivered the night through, only just dozing off now and then. By sunrise my nose was stuffed, my head ached from lack of rest, and I was stiff from sitting still all night, but dreams of glory were still flashing through my head. I stood and fidgeted to get rid of the aches and itches, and started on my way.

  I was not far from a town—one never is far from anything in Lifbau—and in no time at all I found a livery stable with a stall available for a few hours. I saw to it that Jupiter’s needs were cared for and I strolled off to find my own breakfast.

  I went into a bakery to buy a loaf of fresh bread, and to try out my new identity. It was a small place, but crowded. I moved around for a minute before approaching the counter, to give everyone a chance to see me. No one said anything, which I am sure they would have if they had guessed I was a girl. I moved up to the counter, where the heavy-set baker was gossiping with an equally heavy woman customer.

  “I’d like a loaf...,” I started to say, in a very confident and masculine way.

  “A minute lad!” said the baker sharply, waving his hand at me. I smiled at him for calling me lad, but he did not even look at me. “... the queen’ll marry him any day now ....”

  “Excuse me,” I said, still smiling.

  “I don’t care when she’ll marry,” said the woman. “It’s who that worries ....”

  “Excuse me!”

  The baker slapped a loaf on the counter, and held out his hand for the money, still gabbing on about the latest royal rumor, which I suppose was more interesting than local gossip.

  I tried to ask for some butter and milk, but it was pointless. He hardly knew I was there. I walked around for a while, and found a shop with a dairy cow, but though they sold me their goods, they hardly noticed me either. Nobody noticed me.

  I know it was silly, but I was disappointed. I felt as if I should be noticed. I had very successfully become another person. It was quite an achievement. Of course, it was my very success that kept me from being noticed. To them I was just a boy, a gentleman by my clothes, and perhaps a bit too young to have a sword at my side, but nothing unusual, no matter how exceptional I felt. The fact that the world was not as enthusiastic as I was put me in a bad mood. I would prove myself if the chance came.

  I stalked back to the stable, imitating a soldier I had once met after he had lost a fencing match and considered himself cheated. It was a fun role, and I threw myself into the character. I had worked myself into quite a jolly rage by the time I entered the narrow street which ran up to the back of the stable.

  The street was made to look all the narrower by the three and four story houses which lined either side. Very little light got into it at that time of morning, and that suited it. It was a dark sort of place, with closed up shops, dirt, peeling paint, and small yellowed windows. Also fitting the street was a drab old woman who was being harassed by a young bully.

  She was only trying to pass by, but the lad, who was about sixteen, would trip her or pull at her shopping bag, while his friends jeered. The bully was keeping ahead of her, walking backwards so he could face her. He could not see me.

  This was my chance, I thought, a good deed and a touch of adventure. I gathered myself up and charged, shoving with both my hands on the small of his back. He went down on his face, his arms and legs sprawling.

  “That should teach you to leave an old woman be,” I said. He rolled over and got up. I changed my estimate of his age upward to seventeen or eighteen. He was big, and once he saw that I was not, he scowled.

  “Hey, Squirt,” he said, and he swung his fist at me. His scarred knuckles hit me square in the forehead. I toppled backward, falling on my right elbow and bruising it. I was dazed for a minute and I could not hear or see. My left hand went straight to my sword, but I hesitated in drawing it. The bully, after all, was unarmed.

  The dizziness began to clear and I heard laughing. Four other boys, not so big as the first, but big enough, had joined him and all were laughing heartily at me.

  “Look out,” called the first. “His Majesty’s drawing his sword!”

  That got my temper up, and when I get mad I get blindly furious. I whipped out my sword and struggled to my feet.

  “Oh ho, boys! Run, he’s after us!” It was a great joke to them, but still they skipped out of range as I turned slowly around, watching them and facing any that came at me. The big one pretended to have a sword of his own, and they all poked imaginary weapons at me, while mimicking my fencer’s stance. I slashed my sword across in front of them, and they all leaped back. I ran at them, swiping my sword back and forth as if it were a sabre. Half of them retreated to the safety of a doorway. I turned and saw the rest gathering. I raised my sword and chased them off with a yell, but the first group crept up from behind and hooted at me.

  “Over here, Sir Squirt,” the big one said, mimicking my movements.

  I felt a whack across the back of my head, and I whirled violently to swipe at the retreating boy who had hit me, but I did not chase him, since another was edging up to the left. I pointed my sword at him, and he stepped back, in mock fear. The rest stayed back, but ready to close in.

  I closed my eyes and wished I had minded my own business. This was not the kind of adventure I wanted. I could not see any way to triumph. I could not make them stop, and I felt silly making false lunges at any who came near. My elbow stung.

  Keep your dignity, I said to myself. I drew a deep breath and looked around. The old woman had long since made her escape, and I had effectively cleared a path for myself. I drew myself up, trying to hide the shaking that had come over me with the lessening of anger, and sheathed my sword. I walked off with as much dignity as I could muster.

  Whistles and catcalls sounded behind me, coming closer. They were following me. My whole body ached to turn around and look, or run. Dignity, I said to myself, you can win with dignity, so I did not turn and did not run. I wanted to see what they were doing. I knew it was probably nothing. They were just following. No need to look back and dignify them. It was best to ignore them.

  The stable was not far away. I could see a bunch of loungers in the doorway, watching with keen interest. None of them had made any move to help the old woman or myself, but then, I did not want any help.

  “Woo hoo! Let’s see your sword again!”

  I wanted to give that big one a cut across the face. Dignity, I thought. Keep cool. One foot in front of the other and you will be out of this.

  Something h
it my back. I felt my chest tighten up as I froze in anger. My passions were so high that for a minute I thought that I would either cry or kill somebody. The loungers at the stable began to laugh.

  I could not help but turn to see what hit me, but I did it slowly, as if merely curious. They had thrown an apple at me. I stopped and picked it up. I would have taken a bite out of it, but it was badly bruised, so I just tossed it in the air and caught it. I turned away without looking at them and walked the short distance left, past the chuckling loungers, and directly to Jupiter, to whom I fed the apple. He ate it with a relish.

  I had won. It was not much of a victory, and I did not feel triumphant, but I guessed I had really won. This, I supposed, was what adventures were like in the real world, so I had better get used to it. I was still shaking. I hated being so emotional. I put my arms around Jupiter’s neck until the trembling went out of them. I granted myself that I was tired. I was reacting to the high emotions of the night before, and for that matter, for weeks of planning.

  I washed my face in Jupiter’s water bucket and went to pay the stableman. He was busy with a harried but beautiful woman whose coach had a broken wheel.

  “I must get to Lifbau this evening,” she said with a very slightly accented voice. She looked worried, but her voice was commanding. I admired her control. My voice squeaks at the slightest hint of stress.

  “There will be a coach in an hour,” said the stableman. “That’s as much as I can do.”

  “Oh, very well,” said the woman. “I’ll need to move my bags.” She looked pointedly at the loungers. They had been closely watching the conversation, but now pretended not to notice her. They must have had their pockets full, for they ignored her even when she pulled out her purse.

  “I’ll get them,” I said, and popped over to her side. The woman continued to regard the men thoughtfully. I thought I saw an odd look cross her face, a flash of emotion, perhaps anger or even fear. It was gone as quickly as it came. She turned away from the men and patted me on the shoulder absent-mindedly.

  “Are you sure there is nothing sooner?” she asked of the stableman.

  He said no, and I got the woman’s bags from the carriage. They were only a pair of carpet bags, which surprised me, because she seemed the fashionable type. I was directed to put them with the other packages that were ready for the coach. She paid me, and I paid the stableman.

  As I led Jupiter out, I noticed that the bullies were still on the street. I was still angry. I mounted and waited, looking at them. They must have thought I stopped in fear, for they gathered together and came toward me, grinning at the chance for new sport. In one fluid movement I drew my sword and urged Jupiter to a gallop, letting out a bloody yell.

  Their faces changed from mocking to horror in an instant, and they scattered. The leader went left, so I went left, around him, cutting him off. I ignored the others to focus on him. I trapped him against the wall and held him there with my sword.

  “Feel lucky you get off with your life, worm!”

  It was a line from a very cheap novel, which I had read until it fell apart.

  I wheeled around to salute the onlookers, but I was disappointed to see they were not watching. Most of them were gone, the rest were pestering some gentleman, for money I supposed. Their hands were out and their smiles were supplicating.

  Triumph is no fun without an audience, so I let out another whoop and cantered by them, making a defiant salute with my sword as I passed. I thought I heard someone say something about a “pipsqueak” but I imagined it was said with some respect.

  It took me the whole of the day, and some of the evening, to get to the outskirts of Lifbau. We did not press too hard, because Jupiter was not used to running so long, and for that matter I was not used to riding so long. We found a shady spot and took a rest during the heat of the day. I managed a short nap, and we were off again.

  Night fell and I dismounted to lead Jupiter for a spell. He needed a rest, and I sorely needed to stretch my legs. We were nearly in the city. Homes, farms and roadside businesses were close together now. Although I was still a good half hour from the gate of the old town, to all practical purposes, I was in the city.

  Traffic had got heavier all day, but as darkness came it lightened somewhat. I left the highway to find it lighter still.

  Stables and inns were plentiful along the road. I quickly found an establishment that served both humans and horses, and it even had a small pasture to turn Jupiter out.

  I went to the stable first and saw to it that my horse was well cared for, giving him a thorough rubdown myself in gratitude for the hard work he had done for me. I then sought out the owner.

  I found him in the dining room. It was a small plaster and beam room which doubled as a tavern and opened out on both the lobby and the street. I stood in the lobby door. The host came to me directly, but he was busy at the moment so he showed me to a seat to wait.

  I was bone weary, but I hated to sit after riding all day. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my legs as far as they would go, taking in the atmosphere, and revelling in the mild excitement that had come on me upon reaching the city. It was as if nearby Lifbau gave off a radiance which I could bask in, and that, combined with my weariness, made me feel quite heady.

  The inn itself had an atmosphere I liked. I noticed the smell first. It was the smell of age, but not of dust. It was scrupulously clean. There was no dirt even in the cracks of the tables, or on the underside; I checked to be sure. It was not brightly lit, but neither was it dark. I could see the innkeeper and his family thought themselves respectable people, but thrifty. Just enough light, no more. The room was dappled with bright light and half shadow. I began to feel the part of a gentleman traveller.

  After some minutes the innkeeper returned and I asked for a room, a meal and some ale, and I informed him of the arrangements I had already made with the groom for my horse. He looked me over doubtfully before he retreated to prepare my order.

  The customers at this tavern were few. There was a table of what I took to be regulars; farmers, shopkeepers and the like. Near the street door, seated at several tables together, was a noisy bunch of louts, which the looks of the regulars labelled as an infection on so clean and sober a place. I think they were aware they did not fit, for their boisterousness had an embarrassed, giddy quality to it.

  That is, the self-consciousness extended to all except for one of them. He was a gentleman, dressed as for riding in a uniform so black I could hardly see its details. At his side were a sword and pistol, and no cap covered the thick wave of hair on his head. He had one booted foot on the table and was leaning back, gripping the wrist of a serving girl. She did not seem at all annoyed. She let him hold her arm as long as he liked while he spoke to her in low tones and she answered with a slight blush. He was a handsome man. He was young, perhaps twenty-two, quite tall and slender. He had attractive eyes, a long straight nose, a soft active mouth, all capped by that sensuous crop of hair. He looked like the sort of dashing man of action I would like to be. The girl was pretty enough, a little plump, and slightly older than I was.

  I would have whiled the time before dinner watching them, but another man entered the room from the street, and his appearance startled me. I recognized him, though I could not place his face at once, and when he saw me he gave a violent start. Then I remembered him. He was one of the loungers I had seen at the livery stable that morning, a man of medium height, underweight, with blond hair that stuck out from his head like straw.

  I raised my hand in greeting and gave him a half smile. He nodded and gave me no smile, just a suspicious look as he backed toward the louts by the door. I looked openly puzzled and I nearly got up to talk to him.

  “Ilsa!” came a woman’s voice sharply from the direction of the kitchen. I turned to see a heavy, middle-aged woman, whom I took to be the cook, or the innkeeper’s wife, or both. She lumber
ed toward the serving girl and her beau. “Ilsa, I need you in the kitchen.”

  The girl turned hastily, but the young gentleman kept a hold of her hand, giving it a quick kiss before the woman snatched it away. As she bustled the girl past me I heard her speak sharply, but quietly.

  “You stay away from him. That young man is a viper.”

  That young man must have had very sharp hearing, for he replied instantly.

  “Did you hear that?” His voice rang out, rich and melodic, but not too deep. “She called me a snake!” He put his hand to his chest in mock astonishment. Then he threw back his head and laughed merrily. I liked his laugh.

  “You just watch out,” the woman continued, no longer bothering to lower her voice. “He bites.”

  “You listen to her, girl,” said one of the rowdies, “she knows.”

  He laughed loudly as the woman shoved the girl out of the room. The gentleman, however, was no longer amused, and he gave his companion a backhanded whack on the chest. He took his feet from the table and dropped forward, all seriousness.

  The rowdies were silent for a moment. Then, as the noise began to rise again, I remembered my puzzling friend from the livery stable. The instant the girl was gone I saw him slink up to the gentleman in black.

  My friend took his hat off and whispered in the gentleman’s ear, all the while keeping his eyes on me. The gentleman paid close attention and glanced at me once. He then leaned back and asked a question. The others leaned forward to listen to the fellow’s answer, which turned out to be quite long.

  How I wished I could listen in. I pretended I was not interested, and watched them from the corner of my eye. I did not really need to hear. I could tell from the smirks in my direction that he was recounting my morning encounter with those bullies.

  The memory of that incident embarrassed me. It all seemed quite silly now. I felt my cheeks burn as I imagined each detail he told. I was certain he was telling my story in the worst possible light.

  He talked at some length. Every so often he made a motion with his hand, as if grasping a sword and wielding it, and I sank a bit further in my chair. Then he grew grave and leaned forward. What he told them I could not guess. He finished with a nod. The gentleman looked up peevishly.

  “And then what?” he said sharply. The man lowered his voice further to answer, and the gentleman crossly interrupted twice before he got an answer he liked. Then the gentleman threw back his head and laughed.

  It was the second time I had heard him laugh that night, but coming so close on such tense whispering, it startled me. It was a wonderful laugh, ringing and uplifting, but also slightly frightening. It was a laugh I would hate to be at the wrong end of.

  One look confirmed that I was at the right end of this one. He glanced at me and raised his glass, then he turned back to the man and shook his head, gesturing for the fellow to sit down. The man seemed to grow more worried at this and whispered urgently, but the gentleman dismissed him with a wave.

  Whatever had startled the man had apparently been dismissed by his companions, but it still puzzled me. He must have been a madman who thought I had followed him there. It seemed as likely as anything. In any case, I was sure the man had told my tale badly, leaving out anything positive until the gentleman pressed him.

  The innkeeper returned with my dinner. It was a huge meal he set before me, and I was good and hungry. Last of all he set down a mug, of milk.

  “I ordered ale,” I said.

  “That’s all you’ll get here,” replied my host.

  “I won’t pay for what I didn’t order,” I said, raising my voice slightly. I felt the need to prove myself after the tale the onlookers had just heard. Unfortunately, the pitch went up with the volume, and I sounded more childish than ever.

  “Oh, give the lad what he wants,” called the gentleman in black.

  “You keep to yourself, or you and your friends can get out,” the innkeeper called back. He turned to me and spoke sternly. “This is a respectable house, in spite of the riff-raff by the door. You’ll take what you get.”

  “Very well, if there’s no help to it,” I said very politely. The innkeeper was surprised. I was glad at that, for there seemed less strain in impressing him than in impressing the noisy fellows by the door, and my stomach was most impressed of all, when it at last was filled.

  I ate every bit of food I was given, which was a good deal more than I ever got in one sitting as a lady. Then I walked, or rather waddled, out for one last check on Jupiter.

  I gave him a light brushing and stepped out of the stable feeling light headed and ready for bed. I was secretly glad the innkeeper had refused me ale. I walked to the front of the inn and saw a one-horse cab stop. A woman stepped out. I could not see her well in the darkness, but I could see her look toward the inn and pause. The driver spoke to her. She rifled in her purse, and paid him. Then, once he’d driven away, she approached the building and came into the circle of the lamp light. She looked much the worse for wear, though she kept the demeanor of a lady. She looked determined, but tired and uneasy. As I looked on her face I saw who she was.

  She was the lady from the livery stable, the one who had so urgently needed to get to Lifbau that evening.