Scholars and Other Undesirables
Chapter 3
“Eduard?” Jain asked as they approached.
Eduard had drawn his sword and wheeled his mount when he heard them. He had a hunted look in his eye. “What are you two doing here?”
Jain opened her mouth, a lie already forming in her mind, when Airk said, “The same thing you are, I’d wager.”
Eduard tilted his head, curious, but not quite trusting. “What did you do?”
Airk nodded in Jain’s direction. “She gave our laird some trouble.”
“Oh,” Eduard lowered his sword as his gaze fixed on Jain. “What sort of trouble?”
“He tried to touch me,” she said, her stomach queasy at the thought. “I punched him.”
“Then she kicked him in the stones,” Airk added.
“Hah!” Eduard said. “Brilliant.”
“Then she broke his sword.” Airk wore a forlorn expression. “I’ve never heard of anything like it.”
Eduard sheathed his sword. He regarded them both for a moment before he spoke. “I don’t know if believe it.”
Jain looked at Eduard. “What did you do?”
Eduard scratched the back of his neck. “Do you like venison?”
Jain shook her head. “I’ve never had it. We’re not allowed to . . . Oh.”
“It was a long time ago,” Eduard explained. “I’ve done a lot else since then.” He turned his horse back the way he had been going, away from the village and the danger it held. “Come on. There’s a place where we can hide.”
He led them deep into the woods. Jain shivered in the gathering dusk and Airk looked around apprehensively. Eduard slowed his horse and periodically nodded at trees, rocks, and other things that meant nothing to his companions. Just before full dark they rounded a particularly thick tangle of trees and bushes and founded a cottage built into the side of a hill. A number of windows gave off inviting orange light and by that light they saw a winding stone path to a heavy, oak door. That door opened and they saw the outline of a woman with her hands on her hips. The woman radiated authority despite her slender form and unexceptional height.
“Bringing home strays again, Eduard?”
“No, grandmother,” Eduard said, grateful that in the dim light the others could not see him blush. “These are friends.”
“Put your horses away in the stable,” the woman said. “I’ll put together a meal.”
“Grandmother?” Airk asked when the door closed.
Eduard swung down from the saddle and smiled. “Tomkin comes from a long line of nobles. You come from a line farmers. I come from a line of rogues.”
The interior of the cottage was divided into several rooms as Airk’s had been. Unlike Airk’s cottage, this one had a fine brass chandelier hanging from the ceiling, woven rugs on the floors, doors between the rooms, and a variety of other luxuries that neither Jain nor Airk had ever seen.
“Take off your boots,” Eduard’s grandmother said as the trio entered. There was a bench next to the front door where Airk and Eduard sat and began to remove their boots. Jain was barefoot, so she simply stood and stared. “No shoes, dear?” Eduard’s grandmother asked. “Perhaps we can find you some.” The old woman smiled. She had a mouth full of white teeth and her dark eyes seemed to glow.
The grandmother had white hair tied back and somewhat concealed under a headscarf. Despite her age she stood perfectly straight, moved easily, and carried herself with an obvious awareness of the womanly curves the years had not taken away. “Have you never seen an old woman?” she asked as Jain stared.
“Forgive me,” Jain said, looking away. “In the village . . .”
“Women past childbearing look like old rags,” the grandmother finished for her.
“Life in the woods agrees with you,” Airk observed. Something in his tone gave Jain a stab of jealousy, but she quickly recognized the courtesy for what it was.
“Freedom agrees with me,” the grandmother said. She shook her head. “Where are my manners? I am Coursa. For my sins, I’m Eduard’s grandmother.”
“I’m not that bad,” Eduard replied.
Coursa’s smile returned. “I didn’t say I regretted the sins.”
Airk blushed. Jain decided that she liked Coursa immensely.
“So what brings such upstanding young people to this place?” Coursa asked as she set three steaming mugs on the table.
Eduard explained what had happened. When he got to the part about Jain kicking Tomkin, Coursa laughed giddily and clapped her hands. “Good for you, dear girl,” Coursa said. “Tomkin’s grandfather tried to have his way with me. I gave him the same treatment. Let’s hope you kicked him harder than I kicked his grandfather. We could do with that line ending.”
Jain looked at Airk in wide-eyed shock. He only shrugged.
They ate a meal of roasted fowl and vegetables washed down with a finer ale than Jain had ever tasted. After they had cleaned up, Eduard announced that he was going to bed and leaving Coursa to regale the new arrivals with tales of her youth.
“Not so fast,” Coursa said sternly.
“Ah, yes,” Eduard guiltily replied. He reached under his shirt and produced a pouch the size of a man’s fist. He handed this to Coursa. She undid the drawstring that held it shut and counted out five gold coins the size of a cat’s paw on the table.
“Eduard,” Coursa said impatiently.
Eduard sighed. He turned to face the wall and reached into his pants. When he turned back around he held another pouch like the first. Coursa counted three more gold coins out of it.
Jain and Airk watched with bulging eyes. A gold coin, a henry, was worth twelve sils. Coursa could have bought anyone in the village with the money now sitting on the table. Jain looked up at Airk. “Have you ever seen so much money?”
“Yes,” he said distantly. “My family saved for three generations to make it.”
Coursa put four of the coins in a pouch and handed them back to Eduard. The rest . . . neither Jain nor Airk saw what happened to the other four coins. They were on the table and then they were not.
“Where did you get all that money?” Jain asked. “I’ve never seen so much.”
“I relieved an augur of it,” Eduard explained. “Grandmother learned that he kept most of his ‘donations’ in one pouch and the gold ‘donations’ in another. Since he hardly ever gets gold it probably took a few days for him to notice that it was gone.”
“You’ve done well,” Coursa said. “Now off to bed with you. I’ll entertain our guests.” She made tea and told Jain and Airk of the days when she was younger and had caught the eye of Laird Tomkin’s father. She had used her charms to relieve the young man of a number of valuables. When his father, Tomkin’s grandfather, found out, she had been captured and brought to him. He had offered to commute her death sentence in exchange for a bit of whatever virtue she had left. She had agreed, gone to his bedchamber willingly, and kneed him in the groin as soon as he was close and then struck him with a candelabra. Then she escaped out the window, carrying the candelabra and a few other trinkets with her.
The old laird might not have been so quick to lust for her had he known that she carried his grandchild, the half brother of laird Tomkin. Coursa laughed at the scandalized looks on both Jain and Airk’s faces. “Tomkin’s father was charming,” she explained. “I did not steal a thing from him. I only asked and he complied, so badly did he want me.” She frowned. “We might have had a life together, but . . .” she waved as if brushing aside a curtain.
“So Eduard is Tomkin’s nephew,” Airk said.
“Some of my grandchildren are,” Coursa said with a smile. “But not him. His mother is one of the children I had with my . . .” She paused. “I’ll call him my husband. He was with me for years. We had many children together.” She raised her eyebrows. “He was older than me. He died in his fortieth year.”
“You’ve managed well without him,” Airk
observed, looking around the cottage.
Coursa told them other stories about herself and her children. She had raised a large brood and had outlived most of them. Old age was not the leading cause of death among thieves, rogues, and mercenaries. Those who had survived still tended her and she had a network of grandchildren and even a few great grandchildren who brought her information and stolen coin from all over the shire and beyond.
“And now that you know of me, of my family and what we do,” Coursa said when she had finished her stories. “Will you join us?”
Airk rubbed his stubbly chin. “I don’t see as we have much choice. We can’t go home.”
Jain shook her head. “I was a faithful peasant this morning. Now I’m an outlaw.”
“Yes, dear,” Coursa said, an edge creeping into her voice. “But are you my outlaw.”
Jain nodded. “You gave us food and shelter. You opened your home to us. You’ve earned our faith more than that bastard Tomkin ever did.”
Coursa smiled. She raised her hand and slowly lowered it. Jain and Airk looked behind them. Eduard stood very close, sheathing his dagger.
“You would have . . .” Jain began.
“Nothing personal, dear,” Coursa said. “We survive only by being careful. Eduard brought you. It was reckless, but I’m glad he did. Now rest. This morning I was just thinking about how badly I need an upstanding young couple for a little errand.”