Advice and Resolve

A thousand years from now, no one will remember me. There is something crushing about that thought—all the pain and struggle we go through just to live life, only for the passage of time to erase it. We are a blip, a minor miracle in the universe. But there is also something comforting about that, none of the mistake we make are as big or important as they feel in the moment.

-Excerpt from “Travels of the Rune-Bard”

Sleep eluded my grasp like sand through my fingers. Time stretched, the hours dragging on. Twilight bowed to night, and in turn, the early blackness gave way to the witching hour. I stared at the ceiling, my mind restless, the monotony broken only by the gentle breathing of an unfamiliar woman.

Elma drifted off the moment she relaxed, the nights spent in sleepless anxiety catching her up. My fatigue settled onto my shoulders like a heavy mantle, yet even as the stars submitted to the coming sun, I lay awake.

This is a mistake, I thought, covering my face with one arm to ward off the sunrise. I shouldn’t be involved with her. If I kick her out now, perhaps no one will realize the connection between us. The same thought had been bouncing around my mind all night, stubbornly refusing to quiet down.

Elma was a noblewoman, and though I was unsure to which house she belonged, there was one certainty—I was as good as dead if her father discovered she had stayed in my room overnight. Despite my innocence, I had no doubt as to my fate. Even knowing that, concern wriggled its way into my heart and obstinately refused to let me abandon her.

The young woman stirred from her place by the hearth, and I held my breath, listening. She muttered something in her sleep, rolled over, and settled herself once more. With a sigh, I sat up.

“Shit,” I whispered. “Why can’t I just leave you alone? What’s so special about you?” Her story resonated with me, perhaps. It should come as no surprise that a dysfunctional family and loveless marriage would, given my history, but that alone could not explain my obsession. Was I in love? Stories often told of love at first sight, of men whose hearts were captured by a fair maiden.

I shook my head, dispelling that last thought. She was beautiful but clumsy and slow-witted, not world-wise nor self-reliant. She was the opposite of the ethereal woman I pictured myself with, a woman well-versed and well-traveled, capable of taking care of herself. But if it isn’t a bolt from a blue sky, what is it?

I stretched my arms over my head, sucking in a slow breath, then released the pose and let my muscles relax. A hot breakfast would clear my mind, surely.

I picked my way across the room, then fastened my cloak across my shoulders and boots onto my feet. I glanced back at Elma’s sleeping form, then slipped out of the room, careful to close the door silently.

The common room was empty save for Jean—even his maids were not awake that early. With a quick wave and smile, I sat at the table closest to the bar.

“You’re up early, all things considered,” the barkeep said, giving me a lecherous grin. “Or didn’t you sleep at all?”

“Oh shut up,” I said, though a smile crept across my face. “Nothing happened, and that’s that. What’s for breakfast?”

“Shame, thought maybe you’d fallen head over heels,” he set a mug of ale in front of me. “Breakfast won’t be ready for another hour yet, but if you’re hungry I have a fresh loaf and butter.”

“I’ll take it,” I said.

A minute later I was tearing into a warm loaf of barley bread, and drinking my ale. It wasn’t much, but the weight of food in my belly helped dispel my raging thoughts.

“You look like you need some advice,” Jean said, joining me at the table. He had a pitcher of ale and a mug for himself.

I considered for a moment, then shrugged. “Couldn’t hurt. I’m trying to decide if I should get more involved with that girl or not—and no, I don’t mean romantically. She spells trouble sure as the sun shines.”

“On that, we agree,” he said as he took a long draught of booze. “Do you like her?”

“Like her? I find her troublesome.”

“Then just let her go, it’s not your problem, yeah?” Something twinkled in his eyes, and I already knew where this was going.

“I can’t do that,” I said, and sighed.

“Have I ever told you about the maids that work here?” He said. The sudden change in topic brought me up short, and I shook my head. “All of them come from different backgrounds, but they also all share one thing in common: they came here with trouble. So, I gave them food and a place to sleep in exchange for work.”

“And?”

“And I don’t regret it, despite the trouble it’s brought me. Helping someone can be reward enough for the deed.” He finished his ale as silence settled between us, and poured himself more.

“You’re saying I should help her?” I asked a minute later, staring at my mug to avoid meeting his gaze.

“No, but I’m saying there is nothing wrong with wanting to, even if you don’t know why. It took those girls months to trust that I wasn’t trying to entrap them, and years to believe I didn’t want their bodies. I didn’t care what they thought of me, or what their spouses or parents or anyone else thought, either. I helped because I wanted to, and that was enough.”

I nodded once, and chugged my ale, then stood up. “Can I have another loaf, and a mug of ale please?”

The barkeep smiled at me. “Of course.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Food in hand, I opened the door to my room. I stepped inside, closed the door quietly behind me, then arranged the food on the small table.

“Elma,” I whispered, and touched her shoulder. She jerked, let out a choked gasp, and sat up ready to fight. In the predawn light, it took her a moment to remember where she was.

“Sorry,” she said, clutching her chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I said. “I brought you breakfast. You should eat, we have a long day ahead of us.”

“A long day?” She asked, pushing the blankets to the side.

“We can talk about that after you’ve eaten.”

“You’re making me nervous,” she said.

“I’m going to help you, and to do that we need to make preparations,” I said as I shooed her towards the table. “Just eat.”

She sat, and started to eat. A minute later she was devouring the food with the ravenous appetite of a starved wolf, not caring for etiquette. I smiled at the sight, then pulled some paper and a quill from my bag. “Alright,” I whispered. “Time to get some help.”