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A Seafaring SagaChapter 5: Rosa's Departure
Rosa was in a bad mood, a very bad mood. It was lucky no one else was about in the snowy courtyard of Drullen Bell Keep, or they would have received a violent verbal attack if they had even simply said hello.
Rosa was angry at Radjar Kath. Angry at him for leaving, and angry with herself for not being able to convince him to stay. As Rosa had gotten to know the King of the Dark Forest more and more, she had learned that he had always yearned to wonder. She didn’t like to move about. That was one of many friction points in their relationship. Radjar was a born fighter and loved doing it too, Rosa could kick the megabloks out of anyone, but she never went out looking for fights, something she thought Radjar did.
She knew Radjar had been bored holed up in Drullen Bell Keep, with nothing to do except wait until the snows melted, but she had hoped she could have successfully ‘trained’ him not to wander. It was not to be. When the strangers Swift and Strider had volunteered to go on the scouting mission Gonderin ordered, Radjar had been quick to join them, as well as the Jerlock siblings. Rosa had no interest in going, and her attempts to sway Radjar to stay were futile. Now she was along, abandoned, on the day that celebrated love and togetherness. Alone.
In a sudden rage, Rosa drew out her slim knife and threw it at a target set up for training Forestmen archers. Bulls-eye. Rosa snorted in approval. She had not lost her touch. As she trudged forward and yanked the knife out of the target, a thought suddenly hit her.
I don’t have to do this.
No, she didn't have to do this. She didn’t have to wait around Drullen Bell Keep like an obedient dog, waiting by the fire until Radjar came in and demanded attention. No. She would not tolerate it anymore. She would leave Drullen Bell Keep without the Dark Forest king. She would go now.
Surprisingly, it took some time to pack her few belongings. She had not worn the light armor Rodurik had made for her since after Yuletide, but now she slipped it on over an undershirt. She then put on her old light blue tunic, and then a warm Forestmen cloak over that. She slipped her knife into it’s hidden sheath and then filled a pack with small food items such as dried apples and a loaf of bread. Lastly she slipped a few coins into the heel of her shoe, a trick she had learned from Shainya, who had seen Reno do the same thing. As she shut the door of her room, she paused.
Should I leave a note?
No. Let Radjar suffer the uncertainty, just like she had suffered all the days and nights he was away. Let him suffer pain of not knowing. Rosa had two stops to go before leaving Drullen Bell Keep. First, she confronted Gonderin and thanked him for his hospitality, and for all the Forestmen’s. The elf did not ask why she was leaving, he simply said, “You are always welcome here, Rosa.”
Lastly she went to Rodurik, her first friend, the man she would always love. The muscular blacksmith was in the main forge where he always was, pounding away at a sheet of rough metal. When he caught sight of Rosa he halted his strokes and wiped his brow.
“Hello, Rosa.”
“Hello Rod.”
Rodurik look at her, all dressed up, with a pack over one shoulder, and he knew at once.
“You are leaving.”
“Yes.”
Rodurik nodded. “I knew it was coming the day Ra-”
“Please don’t mention his name!” Rosa intervened, “But yes, it is because of him I’m leaving. I’ve been hurt too much.”
Rodurik set down his hammer and embraced her briefly, then let her go.
“Then go. I pray you will find peace and happiness where you go, since you cannot find any here.”
“Thank you Rod.”
As Rosa turned to leave, Rodurik said, “If Ra- er, he asks about you, what shall I say?”
An angry glint flashed in Rosa's eyes, and she said, “Tell that megabloks I will personally slice him into fine ribbons if he dares approach or follow me.”
She left. Rodurik sighed, and returned to his work.
It had been four days since Rosa had left Drullen Bell Keep, and she at last had crossed into Crusader territory. Not that that was a good thing. Rosa despised the Crusaders as a whole, for she never could see past the dirty and brutish Crusader sailors and thugs who had raped her constantly while she had been enslaved at the Broken Mast Inn many months ago. She really wasn’t certain why she had headed south, but perhaps she just wanted to be away from the Forestmen as well. Not that she disliked the Forestmen at all, far from it, but after being cooped up in Drullen Bell for so many months Rosa just wanted to roam somewhere that wasn’t predominantly woods. Of course, that had forced her southward.
Now as she entered Farburg, the northern-most Crusader city, she was in a dilemma. Where would she go now? The soldiers at a well-built guard tower let her pass without much hassle and now she was mingling with the populace clogging the streets. Farburg was a growing town due to increased trade and a recent change in governorship, but it still slightly reeked of it’s past sins and woes that usually plagued the dozens of small to medium ports that hugged the Crusader coastline. Rosa entered one of the better-looking inns and ordered the first thing on the notice board that hung above the wine rack. It turned out to be a sweet and intoxicating brew, and Rosa cautiously only consumed half of it. This was not a place to become stupefied.
“Hey, luv…”
Rosa turned. A thick-set man with baggy pants and foul breath was leering at her. He pushed himself onto the high stool next to her and slurred, “Yer a pretty precious…”
Rosa returned to her drink, feigned a sip, then whipped out her knife. Before anyone could react, least of all the drunken man, the silvery weapon was embedded in the scarred woodwork of the bar, neatly pinning the man’s hand to it. He screamed in pain and slipped off his stool, trying to wrench his hand out, only causing more damage and pain. Rosa reached back over and yanked the knife out of flesh and wood, wiped it on a bit if scrap cloth, and sheathed it without a second glance at the whimpering drunkard. The inn’s clientele, who had been watching the event, returned to their glasses, muttering among themselves. No one went to help the fool on the floor until the owner of the inn stumped over and grunted, “Stop bleedin’ on my floor!” before kicking the drunk outside into an alley. Rosa wasn’t bothered the rest of the night.
It had been six days since the incident in Farburg, and rumors were now spreading. Travelers, especially male travelers, were warned of a fierce maiden with coal-black hair and fire in her eyes who had a taste for skewering passersby. Rosa scoffed at the tales, but she liked the attention none-the-less. She liked the way persons moved aside when she entered a crowd, and she liked the way people scooted away from her when she sat at a bar. At last, she was getting respect. A shunning, fear-induced respect, but respect none-the-less.
Now Rosa was in the Crusader city of Westwater, a port town that looked just like it's northward sibling Farburg except Westwater had a river running through it to the sea. The river was the Wasserstraße, a sister of the Hemlock River and Grurrulugurul Creek. The Wasserstraße was an integral part of Upper Northwestern Crusader territory, both as an agricultural irrigation strip, a shipping waterway, and main contributor to the papyrus business. Nomadic Crusaders in river flatboats, barges and ferries would travel up and down the Wasserstraße, gathering river reeds to pound into the parchment known as papyrus.
Rosa stared at the riverboats lazily, soaking in the sun. The sun felt good, really good. Rosa hadn’t realized she had missed the rays of the sun until they had come back.
They must have done it thought Rosa, Bjarn and Shainya and Reno and the others must have stopped the eternal winter after all.
Rosa sighed. For the first time since leaving Drullen Bell, she felt truly happy. Spring was coming.
It was not long before the news of King Robert’s impending crowning reached the residents of Westwater. At once there was an exodus south. Everyone dropped everything they were doing and traveled to Port Crowne, eager to catch a glimpse of the coronation. To her own surprise, Rosa found herself among them. She did not know why she too had headed south when she heard of the news, perhaps she simply wanted to see something new. Talking to water gypsies day in and day out got boring after a while. Though coronations certainly were not Rosa’s thing, either. She hated stuck-up royalty people with their prim ways and proud postures. Also, they would have the most dreadful security measures. Endless soldiers, and guards with sniffing and biting dogs. Megabloks. It would be a nightmare. Besides, they would be overreacting. What could possibly go wrong at the coronation?
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