Hartley

"I am called Hartley," whispered the centaur. "Who are you?"

"I am a knight errant, looking for a someone who I think may be here. You are not going to raise the alarm?" Fred said, raising a dagger, worried that Hartley might part of the gang.

"That looks beat up. You really should take better care of your tools. Relax, Sir. I am bored, and could use the company - someone to tell a tale or two, or play a new song on the lyre for me. Please put the dagger down."

"Technically it is 'Lord'", Fred corrected, lowering the dagger. "But I am glad to meet you." He shook hands with Hartley. "I might not be able to be here that long. I saw a group of men come out the the barn, and they did not look to be in a reasonable mood."

"Ah, they are the owners of the barn, and were probably tispy. They are horse traders. I run the barn, and keep everybody fed, and they do not come here often. It is not a bad life, but I really could use some company, at least someone that I can talk to. I will hide you if they come by. You just have to promise not to steal any horses while you are here."

"I promise." Fred thought it very likely that these horses were stolen in the first place.

"So, Lord Incognito, who are you and who are you looking for?"

"You may continue to call me Lord Incognito, as I am not ready to reveal what I am called. Consider it a riddle for your amusement - see what you can deduce about me. The person I am searching for is a lady. She is about as tall as I am, long red hair, husky build, plainly dressed, like a prosperous servant. Seen anyone like that around?"

1. "Yes."
2. "No."
3. "Why were you interested in Horace?"

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