The Paladin's Day

 

The Paladin’s Day

 

The wide-brimmed hat was a convenience,

Offering both shade,  

And anonymity.

He had no need of concealment,

Not much leastwise,

But he had less need of publicity.

He was not as known to these hills,

As he might be, but the Barrens,

Were no place for the fool’s errand.

For his kind were not welcome in these parts,

And the trail he followed,

Was not called Rogue’s Road for naught.

Here one kept one’s wits sharp,

And the blade sharper.

Here there be monsters,

Though they wore the guise of men,

And he had been called to do a dispatch,

A duty and an aid he did not much mind.

The crone had given precise description,

5 years’ service now, with two remaining,

Yet the reward promised,

Was more than he had sought.

His quarry was downwind,

Unwashed for weeks spoke his nose,

And the nag he’d borrowed,

Was more offended still,

Balking at the approach.

He would dismount soon,

His was a stealthier advance than any beast,

Save the cats.

He was working on that.

Now the stench grew more loathsome,

And declared rot.

Had the brigand made yet another victim?

But in front of him now,

The collapsed form,

Dead perhaps three days,

And decaying in the skin.

The marks it wore made it his prey,

Dead of some potioned entertainment,

Consumed too quickly,

In too great a quantity.

Meager reward for this,

Even pocket and purse yielded little.

He takes what is needed,

To confirm to master and townsmen,

And regains his mount,

For the slow ride back.

At least he has earned a meal, he thinks.

There was some comfort in that.

Little comfort, yes, but some.

He allows himself the merest smile.

The nag plodded on…

 

Cliff Lake 4/7/2024

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