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Chapter Four

Marshall remains quiet as the two ride into the quaint old village. He notices the rundown state of the buildings and the way everyone is dressed so shabbily.

They arrive at the old man's home. It's a shack; some sort of wax paper covers otherwise open windows and shutters are hanging ajar. The door is a heavy tarp made of animal skins and rawhide.

Once inside the place is not so bad. Creature comforts abound and there are several projects in the works with books and scrolls scattered everywhere. Marshall looks around, still wondering where he is. There are no electric lamps, no televisions, no radio and defiantly no phones or computers here.

"Hey what is this place your shop or something? I mean you don't really live here do ya?"

The old man turns to him looking at him a little puzzled, "Yes, Sir Knight, I do live here. This has been my home for 35 years now. Ever since my older brother went to work for this King. They gave me this fine house and I even get two shillings a week for some of the projects I complete."

Two shillings ehh? What's that equal to, like a few hundred bucks a week?"

"No, Sir Knight, they do not pay me in bucks, I only get money from them. I believe maybe you should remain away from the door though, Sir. I mean, as you are, you may draw a lot of attention to yourself. Your fine trappings are not oft seen by the likes of these people. Word will spread there is a Knight amongst us."

Marshall looks out the door opening then back to the old man,glaringly,"What do you mean as I am"

"I mean no disrespect, Sir Knight. I was referring to how big you are and by the way you dress you look like Death's Knight. By such, you will be noticed."

The sun hangs low in the sky as evening begins to ascend on this quiet little village.

"I will wait till sundown then and go look for a phone or some way to call my friends. I mean there has to be one here somewhere. I mean, fuck, dude, just 'cause your livin' in the Middle Ages don't mean everyone is."

Marshall then walks over to a pile of furs and flops down, closing his eyes, waiting for darkness as the old man busies himself doing whatever chores he can.

The sun has set; somewhere in the darkness there is a party going on. Someone is playing music, women are laughing and singing. Marshall sits up, stretches his 6-foot frame and stands. The old man has prepared a meal and is sitting at the table dishing himself out a helping. Marshall walks to the doorway and begins to exit, mumbling something about being back, when the old man stops him.

"Dressed as ya are, ya had better carry your blade, Sir Knight. I fear there will be mischief afoot for you."

Marshal takes his katana and attaches it to his back with the special harness. Then, he slips on his long slicker after noticing it raining and with the wind blowing it's quite cold out.

Ok, I got it now, ya happy?" Looking down the street in the direction the music is coming from, he exits, saying"Don't wait up!"

The old man cringes at Marshall's words."Not only had I better wait up, maybe I should also think about packing a few things just, just in case."he says in a voice just loud enough to hear.

Marshall wanders down the street, glancing into open windows and doorways. He sometimes sees more than he bargained for.

'What animals!' he thinks, as he watches some roguish-looking dude fuck this young girl over a chair. Soon he finds the place where all the noise is coming from. It’s a tavern of sorts. Not to bad a looking building, but again, no glass in the windows and shutters are closed and bolted shut. The door is heavy but to Marshall, it seems sort of short. Marshal tries to adjust the katana so it does not stand out so much and opens the door. He has to duck under the header as he steps inside this dank, candlelit room. There are tables and chairs scattered about, women are wearing torn and dirty looking clothing; some sitting on customer's laps and some serving others their drinks. One or two are engaged in sexual acts as the customer holds her head by a tight handful of hair. The room falls silent except for the sounds of a few chairs being scooted quickly. Everyone stops what he or she is doing and stares wide-eyed at Marshall.

One woman, who just seconds before had a mouthful of her benefactor, looks him over from toe to head and in a slightly shocked voice exclaims, "Oh my Gods!" She quickly bows and curtsies towards Marshall.

The man she was attending stands, adjusts himself and glares at Marshall. "What ya think you're doing here? King's guards don't normally come here, this is why." And charges Marshall.

Marshall notices something now, this man looked big, but actually, the guy is at least 8 inches shorter and 30 pounds lighter than himself. And this rude asshole is one of the bigger guys. The man draws his blade, looking at Marshall, trying to intimidate him. Someone notices Marshal is huge compared to them. Also, he is not dressed as a Knight for the King. The short fat man does not pay any attention. Marshal kicks the man's sword and then kicks him again; this time in the balls. The fat man goes down like a stone. Marshall then calmly steps across him. taking the girl by the hand and walks to the bar.

"Barkeep gimme a Budweiser and give the little lady whatever she is drinking.

The barkeeper looks at the mess on the floor, then to Marshal.

As he slides the woman a drink, "Um, Sir Knight? I have no Bud wiser. I got ale and wine and whiskey but no 'Bud wiser'." looking as if he is afraid that Marshall will now breath fire on him.

Marshall shakes his head, noticing there is no phone here.

"Well fuck, gimme a beer, then and where is your pay phone?"

The barkeeper looks at Marshall funny and asks again, "Sir Knight, what may I get for you? And what is this 'pay phone' you speak of? I don't know that phrase.

Marshal says "Gimme an ale then. I don't understand any of this." Smiling at the pretty girl next to him, he takes a long pull off the mug of ale, gags on its thickness and spits it out. "What the fuck ya trying to do, asshole, poison me? That shit is warm and thick as snot!"

The girl puts her hand on Marshall's shoulder and gives him a wanton look. "That’s the way ale is supposed to be, love. It's served warm and thick to be good. You don't seem to be from here, why not pay the man and let me take you home. I will show you a nice time."

Marshal smiles and reaches into his wallet, pulls out a ten-dollar bill and shoves it to the barkeep "Here dude, keep the change". And takes the girl's hand and starts for the door. Just as he reaches it, the barkeeper has rounded the bar with a large heavy stick. "Hey you, I want my money for those drinks or I bash you with this stick!" shaking it ominously at Marshall.

"I paid you asshole! Now back the fuck off before I pop a cap in your ass." reaching into his jacket in a mock act of drawing the pistol.

"When did you pay me? All you did was give me some paper with words on it. That means nothing to me. Now pay me or else I crack you hard!"

The girl reaches into the little pocket sewn inside her dress between her breasts and comes up with the right amount of change to cover the drinks and drags Marshall out of the tavern.

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