The Southwick Peacock Read online

  The Southwick Peacock

  by

  Bryan Smith

  First Edition

  THE SOUTHWICK PEACOCK

  Written and Edited by: Bryan Smith

  Cover Design by: Bryan Smith

  Images licensed from: Fotolia

  First Published: March 2015

  Language: British-English

  Copyright Notice:

  This work has been made free by its author and all rights remain with Bryan Smith. Permission is given to distribute the work through different channels as long as it remains free of charge, is not altered in any way, and credit clearly given to the author.

  Copyright 2015 – Bryan Smith – All Rights Reserved

  Polite Notice:

  As this story is free of charge, it has not had the benefits of a professional editor, and so some typos may have slipped through. If you find a rogue word or typo, the author would appreciate knowing where the critter is. Contact details are available through his website and the link to that follows the story. Thank you.

  The Southwick Peacock

  My name is Aydin and I’m not likely to live for much longer. I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to tell you the tale that led me into this mess. I seek to garner no sympathy from you, because I deserve none, but instead my tale may serve as a warning to others.

  I’m currently hiding in a small building with my back against the front door, and the reason I’m hiding is to try and escape from four angry men. They were chasing me because they want to inflict some serious harm upon me. One of them is brandishing a sword, two are wielding knives, and the fourth is waving around a rusty meat cleaver.

  This mess originated when I was walking along a road named Mystwyck Mells. For those of you who are unfamiliar with it; the road runs between Redstone, my home town, through to Southwick, the town I was heading to.

  The reason I left Redstone is for the simple fact I couldn’t find any employment. It’s not an easy life being a cheese-man, and so I decided to venture farther into Undelund and head beyond the limits of where I grew up. When I pondered the idea to leave, there were two choices: travel north to Latchford, or east to Southwick. My good sense told me to go north, and so I chose east.

  So—there I was, strolling along in the late-autumn sunshine. I had reached the western outskirts of Wisping Woods and sought to deprive a gooseberry bush of its fruit. Whilst seeking out a fruit-bearing bush, I noticed the sunlight reflecting from something green and metallic at the bottom of an embankment. I edged closer to the side of the road, peered down, and it took me a few moments to realise what I was looking at. To my surprise—and lying motionless at the bottom of the ditch—was a man wearing the armour of a Jade Guard solider.

  I checked to see if anyone was coming along the road that may be able to help me drag the man from the ditch. I gazed east and west, but realised I was on the road alone. I worried that if I descended the embankment to help the soldier, I may become stuck myself; however, it dawned on me that if I helped him, a reward may come my way. Perhaps he would furnish me with a coin or two, or buy me supper at a tavern. With the thought of being rewarded lodged firmly in my mind, I descended the steep bank to help him.

  The solider was roughly thirty summers of age, with blonde hair and stubble to match. He would have been considered handsome by some, if it wasn’t for the fact he was dead. By the state of him, he hadn’t been dead for long—maybe a day or two. There were no visible wounds on him inflicted by blades or fists. How he died I did not know, but the fact still remained he was dead, and I would not gain a reward for helping.

  I stood there, dumbfounded, like one of the monuments in Undelund’s town squares—silent and unmoving. What could I do? Could I benefit from this unfortunate fellow’s demise in some way? I was poor and hungry, and he was dead. Surely we shouldn’t both suffer? I checked for his purse to borrow some coins. If I didn’t take the money then surely someone else would. Why should they prosper and not me?

  To my dismay, the man had no purse. All my efforts had been in vain. As I scanned for the easiest route to ascend the steep embankment, a life-changing idea struck me; why didn’t I borrow the dead man’s armour and sword? I could then travel to Southwick pretending to be a Jade Guard soldier who had lost his purse—and exploit the sympathy of a stranger.

  Undelund soldiers are well paid and well regarded. If I show up in Southwick where no one knew my name, I was sure I could find a kind soul who would give me food, drink and lodgings whilst in the town. They’d know I’d have the means to repay them once I was paid my wage from the Crown.

  What a clever plan I had conceived!

  Pulling this ruse would only buy me a few days’ worth of living costs; but, after I had been fed and watered during that time, I could ditch the armour and travel to another town and resume my life as a cheese-man. Perhaps I could also secure a loan of a few silver pieces with which to tide me over during lean times.

  I didn’t waste a further moment. If I dithered for much longer, someone else may discover me standing over a dead soldier, and that wouldn’t be good for my already questionable reputation. I stripped the man of his armour, underclothing and weapons. I removed my clothes and dressed myself with his—and him with mine. We had swapped places. I was a soldier of the Jade Guard, and he was a poor man who had suffered misfortune.

  The armour was uncomfortably heavy and the sword would take some getting used to. I now had a reasonable explanation if someone saw me climbing out of the ditch. If they noticed me and the dead man; I would simply say he attacked me—and I swiftly killed him.

  To improve my chances of being believed in Southwick, I practised keeping my back straight, my chin up, and my chest puffed out. I needed to appear and act like a soldier. I needed to have the mind-set of a man ready to fight for his queen and country. I needed to be brave, bold, decisive and confident. By sunset, the town of Southwick will have a new visitor; a loyal soldier of the Jade Guard who had happened to have lost his purse.

  * * *

  The moment I walked into The Goat’s Gruff tavern I was set upon by a pretty serving woman. She was in her mid-twenties with long, curly, copper-red hair, and eyes as green as those in Princess Derdana’s emerald tiara. The young woman was a fine, shapely ambassador for womankind, and her eyes lit up at the sight of my armour and sword. She clearly thought me a soldier—a man to be feared and respected.

  I introduced myself as Thobias. That was the name of my former employer, and it was the first alternative name I could muster. I quickly explained to her I had mislaid my purse along the road. I put on my best display of a down-on-his-luck soldier, and said I was hoping for a mug of water and scraps of food to fill my innards.

  The young woman rushed off to speak to the proprietor. I found a table to sit beside, and glanced over at the serving woman who was deep in conversation with a huge, thick-armed man aged in his late forties. She gesticulated to me and he nodded. I sat and waited.

  Several other patrons glanced over at me to acknowledge the soldier in their midst. I simply nodded back as if I received this kind of attention all the time. This was an act, and I had to play my part. After what seemed like the tenth ‘Good evenin’ soldier’, from a patron, the serving woman returned.

  She introduced herself as Breetria and said her father, Santo, had agreed I was to eat and drink whatever I pleased for the next few days.

  My plan had worked.

  I was delightfully happy, but had to suppress a smile. The corners of my lips kept trying to curl upward, but I fought hard to keep them down. With a calm head I acted like this kind of generosity was bestowed upon me wherever I went.

  Breetria and I discussed what hot food was available. She ran through wh
at they had, and I asked for a dish of roast beef, steamed vegetables and mashed potatoes. I requested they add extra butter and cheese to the mash if they had it. She said they had, and that she’d bring over a tankard of ale for me to enjoy whilst the food was being prepared.

  You may believe I was being greedy with the butter and cheese, but I’m sure you can appreciate my ruse would only last a few days, and so I felt duty-bound to exploit my good fortune.

  The smiling Breetria brought over a huge steaming plate loaded with thick slices of roast beef, carrots, broccoli and mashed potatoes. To add to my mouth-watering meal they had dolloped some horseradish beside the meat. She gently placed the items on the table and fetched me a second tankard of ale. This was working out better than I had planned, but unbeknownst to me, it was about to take a sweeter turn.

  When Breetria set down the second tankard of ale, she scanned the tavern. Satisfied with who was—or wasn’t—nearby, she leaned over and whispered these words in my ear; ‘Meet me at Silverlake Dock, this evening at middle-night.’

  With a mouthful of buttery potato I nodded nonchalantly, as if women propositioned me every day. Believe me, cheese-men are never propositioned; in fact we’re almost invisible to women like Breetria. She took the empty tankard and I watched as she sauntered back towards the serving counter. I must admit, I liked the alluring sway of her hips as she walked away.

  Excited at what the evening may bring, I shovelled down my meal and drained away a third tankard of ale. I sat by the open fireplace and quietly revelled in the genius of my plan. Instead of eating gooseberries and apples by the roadside, I was living a charmed life, and I had a feeling it was going to be even more charming before the night was over.

  * * *

  It was a cloudless night and I sat against a willow tree near Silverlake Dock. For those of you unfamiliar with the dock, you have to walk roughly a mile south of Southwick to reach it. The noticeboard stated that the next trading ship from Yataxatay was not due to dock until the morning, and so Breetria and I would have plenty of privacy. From the north I heard the town bells ringing out the chime for middle-night. My pulse quickened with the thought that Breetria—and her alluring hips—would soon be with me.

  Time slipped by and I realised I had been duped. It was probably a trick she played on men to gauge their interest. Perhaps she was hiding in bushes with her friends laughing at my foolishness. Still, it was me who would have the last laugh by dining and lodging at the expense of her father. As I stood to depart, a soft voice called to me, ‘And where do you think you’re going soldier?’

  It was Breetria.

  She stalked out from behind a small storehouse, wearing a skimpy shift dress and a playful grin. Although her attire was plain, it showed every curve a woman possessed which could stir the blood of a man. My blood is no different, and it was stirring. Reminding myself I was a soldier, I straightened my back and gave her an indifferent glance. I wanted her to believe this happened so often that she’d have to do something spectacular to garner my interest. We walked to a secluded area and as we did so, she did most of the talking. The way I saw it was she had to impress me in some way. I was a soldier of the Jade Guard, and so she had to convince me that it was worth spending time with her.

  Breetria told me she always had ‘something’ for soldiers, mentioning how she liked our fortitude and intensity. She asked me if I had ever killed anyone in combat before. I pictured the dead man in the ditch, and so pretended I had killed a man, but there was no glory in it. She took my hand in hers causing heat to swim within me. I suspected I wasn’t the first soldier she had met in this way, but why should I care? In a few days I will leave Southwick and do my best to never come back. My thinking now was I’d have some fun with Breetria and then leave her, the town, and my debt behind. The plan was working out incredibly well. Not only was I being fed and housed for free; but, I may also end the night in bed with the pretty serving woman.

  We continued talking for what felt like another hour or two. She told me how she didn’t like working at the tavern and wanted more from life. Once again I did little talking, as I believed the less I talked, the less likely I’d let slip about who I really was: a dull, unemployed cheese-man, named Aydin.

  As we talked, we started walking north along Snappers Lane—the road leading from the dock to Southwick; and it was there that Breetria propositioned me. She told me she’ll head back to town alone, and I was to follow a short distance behind. We were to head separately to a small out-building at the rear of the tavern. She said her father had decided the small building would be my lodgings during my stay—and that she’d meet me inside.

  With her last action she made it clear we were done talking, and the time had arrived for a special kind of excitement. She took my hands and placed them on her hips. She grinned mischievously and kissed me softly on the lips. She told me to count to one-hundred before following her, making it clear I was not to catch up with her until we were inside my lodgings.

  I couldn’t believe my luck.

  * * *

  Awaiting me inside the stone-walled out-building was a rudimentary bed with a large straw mattress piled high with blankets. Buried beneath the blankets—with only her head and bare shoulders showing—was Breetria. She told me to take off my armour, underclothes, and get into bed. I couldn’t remember where all the buckles were to release my armour’s breastplate, but I tried to make my pause seem as natural as possible.

  Our love-making was intense, clumsy on my part, and all over extremely quickly. If you count to twenty in your head—that’s how long it took me from start to finish. This was due to my lack of experience rather than a lack of enthusiasm. Before this night, I had only done this on one occasion. Breetria’s face was a picture of disappointment, and so I said soldiers had to be quick love-makers in case a fight broke out. Her expression softened at my answer, and she remarked that she understood—although her tone of voice said otherwise.

  We cuddled beneath the blankets and conversed in whispers. She said the next time we made love, we’d take it slower, and she’d teach me how to last longer. It was flattering that she assumed there would be a next time, but in my mind I knew I had to leave town. I had already gained far more than I expected. I only hoped for food and lodgings, but along with my earlier meal and bellyful of ale—I had the warmth of Breetria’s naked body. Knowing my luck would soon run out, I made the decision to leave for Camberdown before the next sunset.

  Strangely, the topic of conversation drifted to what my plans were for the next few days. She wanted to know when I was going back to Redstone—after all that was the plan I had mentioned in my ‘lost purse’ story. I told her I’d probably go back in a day or two, and this was when things took an ill turn.

  Breetria asked to go with me to Redstone, and that she’d join me on my journey when I left Southwick. She also said we should travel shortly after dawn. When I asked why, she said her father wouldn’t approve of our coupling, and would be angry with her.

  I swallowed hard knowing it would be impossible. If I travelled with her to Redstone, she’d find out I was a cheese-man and not a soldier. She would also find out I had no money to pay for my food and lodgings. I asked myself what would a bold, brave, and confident soldier do in this situation?

  She didn’t take my rejection well. In fact she was furious. She flung back the blankets and didn’t even bother to dress herself. As she left the building, I felt some regret I would no longer enjoy her soft, warm body pressed against me. But I had to stand my ground, because it would be impossible to take Breetria with me to Redstone.

  After what had been a tumultuous day, I started drifting towards sleep. The day had started with me as a melancholic, unemployed cheese-man; I was down-trodden and without a copper coin to my name. My day had ended with me as a Jade Guard soldier; my belly had been filled with hot food and fine ale, and my bed and body warmed by a gorgeous red-haired woman. This was the life I deserved, and with a smile on my lips I dri
fted into a deep slumber.

  * * *

  The unmistakable sound of the middle-day bells woke me from my sleep. I hadn’t intended to doze for that long, but was glad for the additional rest. I glanced around the room briefly wondering where I was. When I saw the Jade Guard armour and discarded helm on the floor, I recalled the events of the previous day.

  As I donned my underclothes and armour, I played with the idea of going to speak to Breetria, and apologise for not being able to take her with me. The problem was I needed her and her father to believe I had travelled to Redstone, whereas you and I both know, I planned to abandon the armour and head to Camberdown.

  There were no signs of Santo or Breetria in the rear yard as I peered through the small window, and so I made a swift exit. As I scampered along a side street, I double-checked to make sure I hadn’t been spotted. The only other person I saw in the street was a miserable beggar. I stepped around the bearded old man and strolled quickly down an alleyway—heading towards the town square. My armour made more noise than I had wanted and it seemed that the quieter I tried to be, the noisier the armour became.

  The next stage of my plan was to acquire some regular clothes so I could abandon the armour on my way to Camberdown. The thought occurred to me that I could venture back towards the ditch where I found the armour and check if the dead soldier was still there. I quickly dismissed the idea as being a long and unnecessary trip. I didn’t want to walk all that way in the armour just to abandon it. Surely, with my clever trickery so far, I’d find a way to convince a tailor in this town to loan me some clothes.

  The idea of approaching a tailor needed some further consideration, and so I decided I would go to the monument gardens at the centre of the town square to concoct a plan. I found a sunny patch of grass near the statue of Queen Yires. I sat and removed my helm, and then unbuckled my breastplate allowing me to rest my head on it.