There were those, Gawain knew, who had in the past regarded Raheen with envious eyes, and there were those who yet did so. In the past, when dark wizardry inspired evil acts, there were even those who, like Stanyck the brigand, "liked what they saw" and tried to "take what they like". The Fallen had sacrificed all in those dark days to keep Raheen safe, and who was Gawain to give up meekly, and allow some filthy brigand to rob him of his life, and thereby offend the ghosts of those who died so long ago that Raheen might be free, and prosper?
As for the guardsman, and the confrontation with the Ramoth, well.
"Your pardon, Serre," a young voice called from the inn's stable door, "Are you the friend who aided my grandfather this day?"
Gawain turned, and looked at the young man framed in the sunshine at the threshold. "I did nothing, but stand by an honourable guardsman about his duty."
"Then you are the friend who aided my grandfather. My thanks, Serre, from all our family."
"Your thanks are misplaced, Serre, and should rightly go to the king's officer."
"Tallbot? Why? It's his job to protect us."
"Not his job, Serre, but a duty, which he carried out with honour at the risk of his own life. I think you wrong him sorely."
The youth, not much older than Gawain himself, looked down at the straw and shuffled a little, shame-faced. "My apologies, Serre, but you are not of Jarn, and do not know Tallbot as I do."
"Ah. You have grounds to dislike your town's guardsmen I see."
The youth shrugged. "They are guardsmen."
"And you are young, and have felt their hand on your arm I'd wager."
The young man shrugged, and grinned, and nodded.
"Well then. You have paid the wages of your deeds, and they have done their duty, in the king's name. Today that duty spared your grandfather further assault, and it was this Tallbot who would've paid for your kin's liberty with the highest coin any man can give, be he king or commoner. I still say, your thanks are misplaced."
"I still thank you, Serre." the boy turned to go, but paused and added, "But I shall thank Tallbot too, when next I see him."
"Soon, I shouldn't wonder, he'll be returning to this inn to speak with me before long."
The youth nodded, and wandered off into the street.
"You're an ugly creature, Gwyn.” Gawain grinned, adding a final few strokes of the brush on the horse's mane. "Eat some oats, you brute, I doubt you could become any fatter and uglier on them."
And with that the prince left the stable, and went into the inn for food and ale.
It was quiet inside, just a few customers. The lunchtime rush was over, and there were a few hours yet until the market and shops closed for the evening. Gawain took a table in the corner of the large room, and sat down to a meal of roast beef and potatoes. What few patrons there were treated him to some curious glances, but then politely ignored him.
Tallbot the guardsman returned to the inn two hours later, and didn't seem in the slightest surprised to find Gawain sitting quietly waiting for him.
"Well met friend traveller.” Tallbot greeted him.
"Well met. Will you sit?"
"Aye, thank you. My name is Tallbot, friend. And I release you from your bond. You are free to go on your way."
"Thank you, Serre Tallbot. I am called Traveller, for that is what I am, and what I do."
"Then I have known your name all this day, yet known it not. I found the scene as you described, and have it from a fellow guardsman that a farmer by the name of Allyn presented himself at our post this afternoon, and described the events just as you did yourself."
"He was kind to do so."
"He seems a good man. There are fewer and fewer these days. Now Serre, I have but one more duty to perform in this matter, which I fear an honourable young man such as yourself might find distasteful."
"If it is duty, Serre Tallbot, you must proceed."
"There is bounty to be paid, if you would have it. Three gold crowns, for the brigand Stanyck and his outlaw band."
"I have coin of my own, Serre Tallbot, and would not profit from such events."
"As I thought. Yet duty obliged me to tell you."
"There are, I'm sure, worthy causes to which three gold would be put to good use."
"There are. I shall see that they do, Serre Traveller. Evening approaches, and the nearest village is a good many hours ride. Will you stay in Jarn tonight?"
"I think I shall."
"A wise decision I think, since the route north out of town will take you by the Ramoth tower, and after today I do not think it would be well for you to pass that way except in broadest daylight."
"They are strange people. How will it go with you, after today's confrontation?"
Tallbot shrugged. "Word has been sent from the post to the Commander at Callodon castle. I stand by my duty, and whatever comes of it."
"I was thinking more of the Ramoths rather than your king's reaction to the news."
"They know the limits now. If they choose to cross them again, then so be it. The whitebeards may advise the king to do nothing, but the king is his own man and if his peace is threatened, there's not a wizard in the land will stay his hand."
Tallbot stood, and extended his hand, and Gawain rose to take it.
"I'll bid you safe journey, friend Traveller, wherever your road takes you."
"Thank you, friend Tallbot. Honour to you."
"May I offer a word of caution?"
"Of course."
"It is said that the Ramoth emissaries have some dark means of communicating with each other. I know not how, or even if it be truth. If it is, then you may be sure that word of your part in today's confrontation will spread before you. You might do well to avoid the Ramoth, wherever you come across them."
"I go north and east, to the black hills."
"It matters not where you go, friend. This snake-headed curse is everywhere. Good journeys, Serre."
"Honour to you."
3. Wandering
Tallbot, guardsman of Callodon, had been right. Everywhere Gawain travelled, he came across the Ramoth. Smaller villages, and those hamlets that were far from the larger towns and castle towns, escaped the ugly snake-towers the Ramoth erected in the larger places, but few escaped wandering Ramoth disciples who seemed to roam at will throughout the six downland kingdoms.
Gawain neither avoided them nor sought them out for confrontation in his slow but steady journey north and east. He had hoped, when he journeyed out of the kingdom of Callodon and into the land of Juria, that he would find that kingdom free of Ramoths, but it was not so.
Besides, he knew, if the Ramoths were spreading south from the Dragon's Teeth like spilled black wine on a tablecloth, if anything their presence and influence would increase the further north he travelled.
When he reached the broad expanse of the Jurian plains, the sight of so much verdant and unbroken grassland filled his heart with sudden sorrow; homesickness for Raheen. But here, in Juria, it was beef that languished on the rich grasses, not proud Raheen horses.
The plains marked a turning-point on his travels. From here, he could guide Gwyn to the north-west, and thus towards the southern tip of Elvendere's mighty forest, or north-east, towards the high black hills that were home to the dwarves.
For a while he simply sat, feeling a little sorry for himself and his lack of real adventure since Jarn, months ago, and feeling homesick. Nights were drawing in, summer was slowly fading, and he still had eight more months of his Banishment to endure. He stared hard due north, but no matter how he strained his eyes, the Dragon's Teeth were still invisible, far below the horizon.
"Well, Gwyn. What's it to be? Elves or dwarves?"
Unhesitatingly, Gwyn set off, heading to the north-west, towards distant Elvendere. Gawain smiled. Gwyn hadn't made the decision on her own, he knew. He'd never seen an elf, and since Kevyn had (although not in Elvendere), he felt obliged to try. And if elves guarded their land as jealously as Allyn had asserted, perhaps like Raheen it would be a land untouched by Ramoths and their despicable towers.