The Forgotten Village: Tales of Misbelief III Read online

  Tales of Misbelief:

  The Forgotten Village

  Barb Hendee

  T · N · D · S

  Tales from the world of

  the Noble Dead Saga

  Copyright

  Barb and J.C. Hendee / NobleDead.org

  Copyright © 2013 by Barb Hendee and J.C. Hendee.

  eISBN:

  ASIN: B00KV0RQA6

  BNID:

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Design, layout, and cover art by J.C. Hendee.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior contractual or written permission of the copyright owner(s) of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or deceased, businesses establishments, events, or locales is entirely incidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  The Forgotten Village

  Other Works The Noble Dead Saga

  Tales from the world of the Noble Dead Saga

  The Mist-Torn Witches Series

  The Vampire Memories Series

  Foreword

  No knowledge of the Noble Dead Saga or related works is necessary to read and enjoy these stories. They are written for fantasy enthusiasts in general and not just for our established readership. Readers new to this world can step into it through any of these short works.

  Tales are organized into “collections” where all stories therein share a theme and/or premise. When one or more link together sequentially, subsequent stories will mention “sequel to…” on their covers to guide you. Even so, each is self-contained enough to be your first adventure into this world.

  —Barb & J.C. Hendee

  The Forgotten Village

  I had been married for four days, and sometimes, I still had to remind myself.

  Only a week past, I’d been the young mistress of Lord Stefan Kobori, the vassal of Pudúrlatsat. I had also overseen the running of his household. Then suddenly, I was the wife of a barge master named Cooper, and I found myself traveling west down the Vudrask River.

  I was happy.

  Cooper had offered and I’d accepted, and given my previous circumstances—too long and unpleasant to recount—I knew I’d made the right choice. Although Cooper and I had not spent much time together, I had liked him before, and when he asked me to marry him, I realized that I loved him.

  So, I’d packed my things and left the manor, throwing away my old life and embracing a new one. Three days later, we were married.

  Four days after we’d sworn our vows, I sat at the back of the barge, wrapped in my cloak and looking up at the gray sky. Early autumn, when the rains normally came was upon us, but the day was clear and only a little windy. Cooper stood over me holding a long pole, and my gaze turned up to him.

  “Elena, are cold?” he asked me.

  I smiled, “No, I’m fine.”

  At thirty, he was eight years older than me, with a broad, slightly flat-featured face. His hair was dark brown, but he wore it cropped very close to his head. I’d never seen him wearing anything but boots, tan pants, and a loose shirt of faded blue—I think he owned three of those shirts. His sleeves were often rolled up, exposing the sinews of his hardened forearms.

  He was stoic and somewhat prickly, but he had a good heart.

  Looking toward the front of the vessel, he called out, “Harlan, veer left. There’s a shallow bottom ahead on the right.”

  Though the vessel and cargo business belonged entirely to Cooper, it took three men to manage the barge. His two hired men, Gregor and Harlan—twin brothers—were positioned at the front with wooden poles, and their job was to keep us from drifting too near either bank. Boxes and crates of cargo were stacked in the center. At night, we set up a tent at the front and a tent at the back.

  Cooper and I took the one at the back. The two of us now shared the business, and my job was to keep the accounts. But again, I sometimes had to close my eyes and quiet my mind and try to absorb my stark changed in circumstance. Of course I was glad. I had made the right choice.

  I had.

  With the exception of my father, I’d never had a man who loved me, who truly loved me for myself. Although Cooper never showed his feelings for me during the day, he was much more open in the night, whispering to me of how he’d loved me from afar for years, and how he’d never dreamed I’d share my life with him.

  I knew that in part, he loved me for my pretty face and mass of wheat-gold hair—but only in part. In the nights, he called me capable and brave, and I’d never before known his high opinion of me. He made me feel valued, and I wanted to feel valued.

  Still… not everything was perfect.

  First, while a free life on the river might sound romantic, I’d not considered several elements with a long-term view. Before I knew of Cooper’s feelings for me, I’d taken two short trips on this barge. As I’d never traveled before then, sleeping in a small tent for a few nights and eating dried fish and grapes for supper seemed part of a great adventure.

  However, I’d spent my entire prior life living indoors with a proper kitchen and a wood stove for heating wash water, and after only several days into my new life, I began to wonder when I’d have the opportunity to cook us a warm dinner or take a bath or wash my clothes. As mistress to Lord Stefan, the only clothing I owned consisted of muslin dresses in soft colors: sunflower yellow, pale green, and sky blue. They were not warm, and none of these dresses remained clean for long.

  Second, Cooper didn’t speak much during the day, and neither did Gregor or Harlan, and well… they were all men. At the manor, I’d spent much of my time in the company of my friend, Beatrice, and the manor cook, Maisy. It felt awkward at times to live only in the company of men. I’d not given that prospect enough thought.

  Third, and this bothered me most… our marriage had been strangely rushed and kept as a private matter. I knew that both Cooper’s parents were still alive and they owned a small eatery in Kéonsk—which was a three-day journey up river from my previous home in Pudúrlatsat. Cooper wintered with them, as it was too cold to live on the barge during the worst months. I’d suggested that instead of heading downriver to remain on Cooper’s trading schedule, we could go upriver so he might introduce me to his parents, and we could put together a proper wedding with his family. Both my parents were long dead, and I had no family. I liked the idea of becoming part of his.

  He’d said no.

  He claimed that he was already late for appointments with several of the villages downriver, but I’d seen his face, and I knew it was more. Either he was ashamed of my past as the mistress of a lord or for some reason, he didn’t want me meeting his parents before the marriage, and I couldn’t tell which.

  I knew that as soon as the weather turned cold, we’d be heading to Kéonsk to live with them for several months, but he didn’t wish to be married there.

  He took me instead to the large city of Enêmûsk, and we went to the courthouse, and Gregor and Harlan acted as our witnesses. Cooper had given me a lovely ring, silver with a light blue gem, and I didn’t regret our hasty wedding. I simply wondered why he wished for us to already be married before I met his parents.

  “Look ahead,” Cooper said to me, pointing.

  Coming o
ut of my thoughts, I realized we were further down the river than I’d ever traveled, almost to the border between Droevinka and Belaski. “What am I looking for?”

  “A large village, called Mistelbach. We’ll spend a few days here.”

  “A few days?” So far, we’d not stopped anywhere for more than a night—even our wedding night at Enêmûsk—but the prospect of staying put for a short while was not unwelcome.

  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, almost like a smile.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  All three men worked to skillfully pull the barge up to the dock, and then both Harlan and Gregor stepped off without unloading a single crate. I was surprised. It was late afternoon, and there was still time to conduct business before dark.

  Barge masters like Cooper earned their livings by several different means. Sometimes they were paid to transport and deliver goods. But for the most part, Cooper bought cargo in one place and then sold it for a small profit where the item was scarcer. Goods such as cloth, thread, pottery, and cookware were needed in the villages, while fresh fruits and vegetables were needed in the cities. Small taverns were always in need of casks of ale or wine.

  The trick for Cooper was to buy low—without cheating anyone—and sell later for a profit—again without cheating anyone. Barge masters were only successful if they were viewed as absolutely trustworthy. From what I’d seen, everyone trusted Cooper.

  “Are we not delivering any cargo?” I asked. “Do I need to bring the accounting ledger?”

  “Not now,” Cooper answered. “Just pack up what you’ll need to stay overnight.”

  Harlan flashed me a friendly smile, as if he knew something I didn’t. Of the two hired men, I preferred him. Though Harlan and Gregor were twin brothers, both with round faces and sandy blond hair, Harlan was better natured, and he smiled more often.

  Yet for me, the situation grew more and more mysterious. I did as Cooper suggested, and I packed a small bag, and I followed the men off the barge.

  We entered a bustling village, almost large enough to be a town. A number of people waved to Cooper and called greetings. He nodded in return. More than a few of these villagers glanced at me curiously.

  The place struck me as surprisingly prosperous. Most of the dwellings were built from wooden boards, as opposed to the usual wattle and daub, with neatly painted front porches. We passed through an open-air market, and the scent of fresh bread wafted on the air. The aroma made my mouth water.

  Harlan and Gregor both made their excuses and parted ways from us. They began wandering among the stalls.

  Cooper pressed onward, and we entered a line of shops with colorful awnings. Until this past year, I’d never set foot outside of Pudúrlatsat. More recently, I’d seen a number of villages in my brief travels with Cooper, but I’d never seen anything quite like this.

  “What a cheerful place,” I commented.

  “I thought you’d like it,” Cooper answered.

  He led the way to a two-story building with a sign hanging high over the front door that read The Beechwood tavern. After opening the front door, he called out, “Sophie? Roland?”

  I followed him inside.

  Numerous tables and stools filled a large room with a hearth in the back wall. A polished bar with more stools stretched almost the entire distance of the wall to my right. There was a curtained doorway at the far end of the bar.

  “Cooper is that you?” a female voice called back.

  The curtain parted and a stout woman, perhaps a few years older than me emerged at a quick, purposeful pace. She wore a sensible, well made wool gown, and her dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid. The sound of young voices exploded from somewhere behind her.

  “Mama! She took my apple!”

  “Mine has a bruise!”

  The woman turned, “Give me two minutes peace!” Then she added. “Matilda, give your brother his apple and get yourself a new one.”

  Turning back, she held both hands out to Cooper. “Where have you been? We expected you last week.”

  “I know. I was delayed.” They seemed to know each other well. Stepping to one side, he touched my arm lightly. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Elena.” He glanced down at me, “Elena, this is Sophie. She and her husband, Roland, are good friends of mine.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened in what appeared to be shock as she took in the sight of me. “Good Gods,” she exclaimed. “Where did you find the likes of her? She looks like some nobleman’s daughter.”

  I had no idea what to say to that.

  Sophie’s face broke into a broad smile. “Roland! Get out here!” she shouted.

  The next thing I knew, she’d crossed the floor and nearly lifted me off the ground in an embrace. “Don’t mind me. You are most welcome here. We just never thought our Cooper would get married to anyone, and well you… you’re quite a surprise.”

  Cooper appeared slightly embarrassed at some of the things she said, but then a great bear of a man with a full beard came through the curtain. “What’s all this ruckus? I’m trying to get the stove lit.”

  “You’ll never believe it,” Sophie told him. “Cooper says he’s gone and married this little bit of a thing.”

  The bear of a man stopped in his tracks, staring at me. “No?”

  “Well, if you two don’t believe me, no one will,” Cooper said, shifting weight between his feet.

  Sophie hugged me again. “This calls for a celebration.”

  ·····

  Not long after, I began to feel much better. I only wished that Cooper had told me about his friends beforehand and he’d prepared me for what he had in mind.

  It seemed there was a large guestroom upstairs, and we would be sleeping in privacy, in a bed, for several nights. Even better, I was to have full use of the kitchen stove and wash tubs in the morning so that I could heat water and do all the laundry I liked.

  By the time darkness had fallen, Gregor and Harlan had joined us in the common room of the tavern—and were both roundly embraced by Sophie—and then Roland closed the place down for the night, and he’d launched a small celebration.

  A little girl about five years old and a boy about four had joined us well. We drank small goblets of red wine and ate roasted pheasants cooked with sliced apples, warm bread, and mashed potatoes with gravy.

  After a week of dried fish and grapes, it was the most delicious food I’d ever tasted.

  More though... this little gathering was what I’d wanted when I’d suggested getting married in Kéonsk. I felt like I was being welcomed into a family.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what to expect here?” I whispered to Cooper in a spare moment.

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.” He hesitated. “I know this past week hasn’t been easy for you, and I wanted you to see there’ll be more to our life together than sleeping in the tent and eating cold food.”

  I blinked. I had no idea he’d even thought of these things. Reaching out, I touched his hand. “You are a good man, a thoughtful man.”

  He glanced away. I knew he didn’t accept thanks or praise easily.

  That night, in the privacy of our room, I took off my dress and showed him how much I appreciated his kindness. Afterward, he held my face and stared at me in wonder.

  But later, as he slept beside me, I lay awake, thinking on what I might do for him in return, how I could be of more use … how I could make his life easier.

  Soon, I had an idea.

  ·····

  The next morning was a busy one—in the best possible way.

  After a quick breakfast, Cooper and I went down to the barge, and he told me we would spend the morning re-organizing some of our cargo, and then we had business to conduct in the afternoon.

  I gathered up all our dirty clothing and made my way back to the Beechwood Tavern.

  When I arrived and entered the kitchen, I found Sophie already heating several large pots of water. She’d d
ragged a large washtub to the center of the floor.

  “Oh, thank you,” I said. “You didn’t need to do all that.”

  “I’ve got things to wash too. I sent the children to the market with Roland.”

  The next few hours were spent scrubbing clothes and hanging them on lines out behind the tavern. Sophie was a bit loud and blunt, but I enjoyed her company. There was nothing false or hidden about her. She showed every emotion on her face.

  This soon proved helpful to me when she eyed my sky blue muslin dress on the line… and then the sunflower yellow one. “You wear these on the barge?”

  “They’re all I have. My life was quite different before.”

  “It must have been. Don’t you have any wool clothing at all?”

  I shook my head. “Perhaps I should try to purchase some?”

  She looked me up and down. “Wait here.”

  After she left the kitchen and passed through the curtained doorway, I heard her go up the stairs and then come back down. She re-entered the kitchen carrying two wool dresses, one of dark red and one of deep plum.

  “Believe it or not,” she said, “when I first met Roland, I was about your size. These have been worn a bit, but they’re in good condition, and I know I’ll never be able to wear them again. You might as well take them.”

  Neither of the dresses appeared “worn” at all. They both looked almost new. My heart jumped at the prospect of two warm wool gowns, in dark shades. “Oh, Sophie, you must let me pay you for them. Those are fine dresses.”

  She waved me off, and then foisted the gowns into my arms. “Wouldn’t hear of it. No one is using them.”

  I wasn’t certain what to say. I was unaccustomed to generosity. “Thank you.” Then, I wondered if she could help me with the plan I’d hatched in the night. “Sophie, while the clothes are drying, I wondered if you could help me with something else.”

  “With what?”

  “I want to purchase two things… and I’m not sure where I might buy them.”