Lord Magistrate Unka watched the small group ride

toward his town, a small smile playing on his lips. The Lady

was in the fore of the group, leading the way, imperious.  The

Magistrate had been impressed by her manner...she had

showed no sign of intimidation, as most did. Lord Unka was

accustomed  to fear as a control of those about him, and  this

Lady seemed impervious to that control. The Lord decided to

change that...twasn't proper respect for his station.  As he

rode, he gave thought to how he might instill a more pleasing

....attitude....in the Lady.
 

                 Grouche, the  Wanderer, also watched the group

disappear among the throng headed for market. He hoped

beyond hope that the Lady and Brat would be able to affect

some sort of plan for his rescue.  The Brat was wise in the

ways of the city, and was shrewd in her conduct of matters

best left unknown. The Brat was well respected among those

who traveled paths outside of law...she dealt squarely with

them, and provided help when needed. If anyone could save

his hide, she could.
 

                   But, for the moment, Grouche had  more immediate

problems.  Modem’s device still  hid in his pouch, and the

discovery of it would surely lead to disaster.  He could not

use it to summon her, as her appearance among so many

armed men would surely get her cut down before she was

aware of their presence.  And just as surely, Grouche would

be searched  before whatever amusement Unka had planned,

and its discovery would lead to the same result. He must

somehow find  a way to dispose of it. Grouche crossed his

right arm over his stomach, the reins held loosely in his left

hand. He slumped in his saddle, the very picture of a

condemned man on his way to the gallows. The slump

covered the movements of his right hand as he covertly

loosed the ties of his waist pouch. If no better thought

presented itself, he could attempt an escape, and toss the

pouch into the forest, hoping it would not be found in the

confusion that would ensure.  But, he kept that plan in

reserve, knowing that he might well not survive its execution.

And Grouche, the Wanderer, fully intended to survive.....
 

                      The Lady Sweet, traveling swiftly, longed to

reach the city and find this Brat, so that she could help her

Wanderer.  Her thoughts were tumultuous, she could not

think clearly, but she knew that Grouche was not to be

underestimated.  She wondered that he did not summon

Modem once again, but knew he must have reason not to do

so. He had clearly escaped Lord Unka's  mercies previously,

and surely planned to do so again.   The Lady  was baffled as

to why this Magistrate so hated Lord Grouche, no word had

been spoken of his supposed crime.  Whatever it might have

been, Lord Unka was taking full payment, for personal

satisfaction it seemed.  This boded ill for Grouche, as Lord

Unka's cronies  would be most anxious that he would not

escape, and guard him well. The Lady was confident Lord

Unka's wrath would be exceedingly cruel, if he were denied

his satisfaction.  All in all, the situation looked very dire.....
 

                Magistrate Unka's thoughts had led to a most

marvelous plan....Grouche, the Wanderer, would provide a

final entertainment for his banquet hall...and the Lady Sweet

would be shown the error of her ways......most effectively.
 

                 Lord Unka burst into uproarious laughter, startling

the travelers on the road.  He laughed so heartily that tears

streamed from his eyes. The crowd about him looked at one

another  in confusion, not wishing  to offend the Magistrate. A

few laughed quietly, but most simply ignored his outburst,

not wishing to draw his attention.  Lord Unka's men shifted

uneasily in their saddles, they knew their Lord, and this

behavior from him was not a good sign.  Some one would

suffer for this good humor.....
 

               Grouche watched Lord Unka slow his mount, till the

two were riding abreast.  He remained slumped in his

saddle,  fingering the last knot of the pouch strings..........

good.....one quick pull and the pouch would be loosed from

his belt. Grouche breathed a silent sigh of relief.  Now, for the

opportunity to lose it.....
 

            Lord Unka was savoring the moment, delighted with

himself.  In all appearances a civilized man, the Magistrate

had a savage streak, as evidenced by the fate of lawbreakers

within his domain.  He turned, and smiling coldly,  spoke.  "I

hath reconsidered, Wanderer, and  hath decided not to stretch

thy neck. Thee should be thankful of my mercy....” Magistrate

Unka paused, watching Grouche for some sign of relief, his

mood souring as he saw no evidence the Wanderer had heard

at all.  Irritated, he leaned toward Grouche, and back-handed

him soundly across the face.
 

                 Grouche's head snapped back from the power of the

blow.  He straightened, and glared a t Lord Unka. Wiping

blood from his mouth, Grouche smiled, then turned once

again to the road, studiously ignoring the Magistrate.
 

                Lord Magistrate Unka was incensed.....the incredible

insolence of the man!  Reeling rage at the lack of respect for

his person he had suffered this day, Lord Unka struck

Grouche yet again, snarling.   Leaning close to Grouche's face,

he said, "Thee shall learn to fear my mercy Wanderer.........it

shall be the death of ye."  Grouche looked into the cold eyes,

and saw death there. He knew it would take a miracle to

survive, and miracles were but rare.  But he still breathed,

and until he breathed his last, he would not give Magistrate

Unka the satisfaction of his fear.
 

Grouche said a silent prayer to his gods,
as they neared the city gates....

 

 
 
 

 
 
 

 
 

 

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