Into Gelda

The Never Ending Quest - Episode 11488

The door opened this time. Rowena's brother let her in and then closed the door. He was already dressed and his pack was on the cot. Rowena told him of the bee in her room. He simply told her not to worry: "What can anxiety do?" he said. "Nothing but spill the sands of time."

They left the room and went to get some food. The Chanticleer was already eating. After some breakfast, some discussion, and some words with the commander they left that keep, and with it the Shreken.


Meanwhile a small cadre of persons were discussing our group of heros.

"Are they gone?"

"Aye - all four."

"Only the Red Guard counts."

"I hear the Lady is cursed."

"And that the Bard can kill a man with his voice."

"Stupid sheep! My brother sent me this note from Batlan...its the Red Guardsman who's got power."

"Aye, and he hides it as he does his armor under a cloak of common cloth."


Even as the gossip mill continued to grind on, our foursome traveled northwest onto the Plain of Toulaine. This land was controlled by the horsemen of Gelda and though no fence or wall blocked the grand expanse, there were few souls willing to violate its bounds. The road took our riders after many hours past only a few hamlets. By nightfall they had crossed a considerable distance, and they had also found themselves in Cest-by-the-Bend. This good-sized village sat upon the bend of the River Chartreuse. Once they located an inn Pall went straight to his room, the others headed for the refrectory.

After a fair meal the trio took to drink; the Lady sipped a white wine, the Troubador had his mead, and the man-at-arms held a pint of the local brew. Fred only took a pint for he valued his senses. As they came to the conclusion of their evening they were approached by a large blond-headed man. His dark eyes were bright and his smile inviting. "Hello strangers, my name is Bo. I see ye like to drink; I also hear by yer accents that at least two of ye hail from the Kingdom. King's man," said Bo looking at Fred. "What do ye think of oure beer?"

Fred relaxed as he realized this man only wanted friendly banter. "Its actually very good," said Fred.

"HA!" laughed Bo. Then he turned and yelled across the room to a man sitting at a corner table. "Ye owe me three coppers, Francoise! The Allarian does like fermented mare's milk!"

Fred's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he spat out what beer remained in his mouth: "WHAT!!??!" By this time Bo had lost interest in Fred and was collecting the winnings of his bet. The Chanticleer was laughing. "You've gotta lot t' learn, Denom...This is Gelda and everything in Gelda revolves around horses. Or aren't men-at- arms taught of the wider world?"

Rowena was giggling at her brother's situation, yet the last remark struck her too. Since leaving her home in search of her brother she had come to realize how shallow her life at home had been.

"This is horse country. This is Gelda whose mother tongue, an ancient trader's language, spawned the Common which both south and north now use. Their copper is called 'gelding' and their goddess is Gilda and their soldiers all ride the steed on saddle."

"Yes," said Fred. "I have heard of this western land whose knights ride like madmen."

"Very efficient madmen if you ask me. But back to food; their flan is exquisite, their souffle is delicious, and their beer as we have witnessed is remarkable."

"But mare's milk?!!?" said Rowena.

"Hey, it's your man-at-arms who likes it, not me."

With a little more laughter at Fred's expense and some more wit and geography lessons they soon made their way to their rooms, their cots, and much needed sleep.

  1. the next day

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8/13/2000 4:54:30 PM

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