Hildegund
HILDEGUND HADN'T DREAMED. She had been stone, unfeeling and unmoving. And as the gray strands of light beckoned her awake, she felt an uncomfortable soreness in her back and a stiffness in her neck. She stretched as she sat up, shaking the sleep from her mind.
She had spent so many nights sleeping outside that it felt almost claustrophobic being behind closed walls and she felt a slight tugging in her gut that something was wrong.
Next to her bedroll there was a small window that was covered with a sheet. A slight breeze carried in the first noises of the morning, along with the first rays of sunlight. She could also smell something warm and inviting wafting up from the downstairs kitchen, and her mind turned to breakfast. "Grimbert," she began, turning her head to the other side of the room. But, to her dismay, the room was empty.
The feeling overcame her slowly as her eyes scanned the room again, looking for something that obviously was not there. Panic crept into her chest. Breath came in starts and stops. A cold sweat perspired on her forehead and under her arms. She didn't understand. It felt shockingly wrong. "Grimbert?" she whispered again. "Grimbert?" her volume increased as she repeated the name. She repeated it again, a shrill note putting an edge in her young voice.
"Shut up you fool, some of us are trying to sleep," a gruff voice shouted from another room.
Another room! Her heart immediately calmed. Grimbert must have rented an additional room. She knew that he had been close to her father and he must have needed some time alone to ruminate on the events of the other night. He had to deal with his grief in his own way. With the mystery in her mind settled, Hildegund rose from her bed. She had not brought any belongings to this room, not even her sword, but she still had a few coppers, at least enough for breakfast. She walked down the stairs expecting to see Grimbert waiting in the dining area.
The tavern was empty, except for the innkeeper. Grimbert must still be asleep; it was still very early in the day. She walked up to the older man who was absentmindedly wiping down a countertop. "Good morning, sir, do you know what room my companion is staying in?"
"Excuse me?" he looked up, scrunching his face and scratching at his stubbled chin, "What companion? You came in alone last night, no?"
"Well, yes, but my, um," she didn't know what to call Grimbert now that her father was dead, she hadn't thought that far in advance, "The other pilgrim who I traveled here with said he was going to bring the horse to stable and then follow me directly. He didn't seem to make it to my room, so I think he must have let another."
"You were the last patron of the night. If I recall correctly."
Hildegund's mouth went dry, her tongue felt heavy. This wasn't right. "Are you sure you didn't see a man, dark hair to his shoulders, bearded, not too tall but larger around his waist? Speaks French with the same accent as I do?"
"I'm sorry, my boy. I would know if there was another German staying in my inn. Most of my patrons are Italian merchants." He seemed sorry for the child in front of him, and he reached into a large steaming pot and placed a bowl of hot porridge down on the counter, "Free of charge, this morning, and I can think of a few places you might want to check before you get too worried."
Hildegund took the steaming bowl gratefully. As she started to eat she tried to think of all the scenarios that would have kept Grimbert from doing as he had promised. He could have been robbed by bandits. Maybe even the bandits who had killed her father. It was possible they had retreated to Tyre and then recognized Grimbert. Or maybe he got into a brawl. He could be wounded in the street. Or even dead! How could she find out?
"Could he have gotten in trouble? Do you think he could be hurt?" she asked.
"Well, I don't know this man who you traveled here with, but after so many days out on the road, he could have simply gotten distracted by something entertaining. I know I would be dying for some, um, amusement, if I had been out on the road for so many days. Stay around here and I'm sure he'll slink back before too long."
"He did always appreciate the taste of ale," she responded, feeling somewhat calmed. "Where are the nearest places for drink? I'd prefer to not just sit around and wait. Just in case."
"You said he had your horse?"
"Yes."
"Well, then I'd start at the stables. The nearest one is right down that way," he pointed, "but there are several more closeby. Just follow your nose, you can't miss them. The stable boys can all point you to the closest taverns or other, um, locations that might interest a lonely traveler."
"Thank you," she nodded sincerely. "And if a man by the name of Grimbert comes to check in, please let him know I went to look for him, but will be back soon."
"Of course. And if you don't find him, you can always ask the city guards if there was any trouble in the night. But," he insisted, "it is much more likely that your man was distracted by the pursuit of pleasure rather than disabled by pain."
Once she had emptied her bowl, Hildegund set off to explore this new place. She was confident that she could navigate this urban environment, having been raised within the center of Loconge. But this walled city felt much different. War had passed through repeatedly over the years and had been here as recently as a generation ago. The buildings that survived were scarred and ruined piles of rubble still stood on some corners. It was also more fractured by political and religious tensions. Hildegund had been raised in a society that was German Catholic without exception and the only travelers that passed through town were from other parts of Christendom. The memories of Viking raiders were passed down in frightening stories told to children and grandchildren, but the physical evidence of these attacks had been long erased. As Hildegund walked these new streets, she noticed the different languages being spoken, the rainbow of skin colors, and the air of distrust between neighbors.
When Hildegund reached the stables that Grimbert had been heading towards the night before, she noticed that their horse was not there. She inquired the whereabouts of her stead, but the stable hand just shook his head. There were other stables in the vicinity, and Hildegund decided to check them all. At her fourth stop the boy who was watering down the horses recognized Hildegund's description of Grimbert. "Yes, that man was here. Left a horse for the night, but came to collect him just after dawn. Seemed to be in quite a hurry."
"Where did he go?" Hildegund asked anxiously.
"I couldn't say. His saddlebags were full, and I just assumed that he was continuing his ride towards Jerusalem. He made some comment to me as he left, but his words were slurred and I couldn't understand his accent."
This just didn't make sense to Hildegund. Her mind was reeling with this information. Maybe the boy was confusing Grimbert with another man. "Do you know where this man stayed last night? Maybe they would have additional information for me."
"Not sure, friend. But he entered the stables this morning from that direction," the boy pointed down the road, away from the inn Hildegund had stayed at, "And based upon his wine-soaked stench, I wouldn't be surprised if he had spent the whole night on a bar stool."
Thanking the boy for his help, Hildegund headed down the street. Although the main roads were wide enough, there were many dark and dank alleyways that curved out of view into nothingness. Hildegund could only imagine what might happen under the cloak of those shadows. What might Grimbert have seen or heard that compelled him to leave the city in such a rush? Whatever it was, he must have good reason.
Good reason? She scolded herself. There was no reason to abandon your traveling companion in a strange city. He stole all of their supplies! Her father's supplies. Her dead father's supplies. There was no greater dishonor.
A rage she didn't know she was capable of boiled into her chest. Grimbert was a lout! A good-for-nothing piece of rubbish! A worm! A coward! Hot tears brimmed her eyes, and she kicked out, causing a loose stone to go skittering down the road.
A stray dog lazily raised its head and watched as the rock rolled past. A passing couple glanced at her curiously. Suddenly embarrassed at her outburst, Hildegund wiped her face with her sleeve. This anger wouldn't answer her questions. Tears wouldn't help her find Grimbert. What would she have to do? How could she get things back to how they were supposed to be? She felt lost, but she tried to hold fast to a glimmer of hope.