It had been four days by foot before Jessica and Tull felt safe enough to venture near another person. They had walked through fields and woods hiding from travelers and farm workers. Sleeping in hedgerows and hollows. Lighting no fires and eating only the dried fruits, cheeses and biscuits that Tull had packed. Finally they felt they had traveled far enough and waited long enough to try and find some proper rest and shelter.
After making their way back to a main trail they soon found a farmhouse and its associate buildings. Tull and Jessica stopped on a low hill and surveyed the farm. Still wary that there could be soldiers from the city looking for them.
The farmhouse looked like the other buildings in this area. Built for protection from brigands as well as from the elements. It had thick stone walls with narrow windows placed above the height of a mans head in them. Smoke curled from a stone chimney in the center of the thatched roof. There was one door of thick solid oak facing the path. And it closed behind an old woman who ran in from the yard when she saw them on the hill.
Tull and Jessica looked at each other. It was mid morning but there were no men in the fields and no one was in the farmyard tending the animals. The men were either out hunting or gone to market.
Tull and Jess made their way to the farmhouse. Jessica sat down on the dry earth and put her back against the wall by the door. Tull rapped loudly on the hard wood with his fist. A spy hole opened in the door and Tull looked up into the old woman’s grey eyes.
“Go away!” She said.
“Madam, all we ask is that we can stay in your barn for the night. We have money and are willing to pay.” Tull said.
“It’s not right a young woman and a man of your age sharing my barn. What would people think?” The old woman said.
“They would think what a fine upstanding woman you are showing charity to strange people.” Tull answered.
“The road to hell is lined with devils who would seek charity from the faithful making them poorer on their journey through life. So say the lord Goth.” The woman preached.
“Why madam you are a worshiper of Goth, the true God. So are we.” Tull explained. “And did not Gordon share his last meal with a lowly beggar before he was martyred?” Tull said.
“NO!” she exclaimed in a loud and shrill voice and slammed the shutter of the spy hole closed.
Jess looked up from emptying a stone from her boot. “I think you will find that Gordon was martyred for Gorm, not Goth.” She said.
“Well then. Do you have a better plan?” Tull asked.
“Yes I do.” Jessica said.
An hour later Jess and Tull were riding over hills on their stolen mounts. A horse for Jess and a pony for Tom because of his short legs. Their saddlebags were full of freshly killed chickens, salted pork and flour stolen from the old woman’s barn.
“It’s just like the they say Tull. The lord Goth helps those who help themselves.” Jessica joked.
They rode on for the rest of the day until near dark and found a copse of trees crowning a small hill that would hide them from casual observation from the road and give them a good vantage point. They made camp and for the first time in many days lit a fire. Still they were careful putting it in a dug out hollow to hide its light.
“It should be several hours before that woman could get news to a settlement to call out a search for us.” Tull said as he went about the business of cooking their supper. “Well done Jess I would say the horse and pony has given us at least a days traveling.”
