Allan and Nancy walked into the Inn of the Bend holding hands. They didn't have to work too hard to be seen as a young married couple, because they were.
Being a young married couple of some means, or at least aspiring to some means, took more work. Their clothes had to be clean, since folk who did work tended to wear dirty clothes. They had to appear to have plenty of coins; this came party from saving, and partly from the "golden wand." They debated whether or not they should wear jewelry. They agreed that Allan needed only a wedding band, while Nancy would have her band, a second ring on her left ring finger, and a necklace. The second ring and the necklace were borrowed from her shop.
They also needed to have travel sacks. Those weren't hard to get, nor hard for them to fill. Allan could go about the city of West Bend wearing the leather breeches that were part of his Defender armor. The rest of their leather armor, along with their wands, clubs, and daggers, were carefully packed into the sacks.
Allan left their sacks at the door of the Inn. He offered his hand to Nancy. She took it, and they approached an older man sweeping the floor of the dining area. "Are you the innkeeper?" he asked.
"Aye, that's me," the man replied. "Master Jacob, owner of the Inn of the Bend, at your service. Welcome to the city of West Bend, and the dukedom of West Bend. Who might you be?"
"My name is John, and this is my wife, Mary."
Nancy curtsied. "Pleased to meet you, sir."
"Would you two be wanting a room?" Jacob asked.
"Indeed," Allan said.
"Well, I have a few to choose from. Follow me."
Jacob walked back to a counter that appeared to serve as the spot where meals and drinks sat before being carried to patrons. Jacob looked down behind the counter, letting out a grunt as he did so. "I have a suite, as well as a pair of common bedrooms," he said.
"A suite would be nice," Nancy said to Allan.
"We don't have the means to afford a suite yet, dear," Allan replied. He turned to Jacob. "A plain bedroom will do fine."
"Very well." Jacob put his hands on the counter. "That'll be three coppers a night, or a silver and seven coppers a week."
Allan took out one of his precious silver coins from his coin purse. "Give us three nights."
"Three, young man?"
"We're looking for a better life for ourselves. We'd like to look around the city before we decide to stay here or move on."
Nancy leaned close to Allan. "We want to make something of ourselves. We're trying to find a place to do that."
Jacob smiled to each of them. "Well, you won't find a better city, or a better Lord to live under. There's good folk in West Bend, I can assure you."
"Really?" Allan asked. Here's our first chance to learn something. "I heard there's an outlaw running loose."
"What? You mean Red Raymond?"
"I think that's the name we heard about."
"Well, a couple like you, wearing jewels and dressed nice, you might have something to worry about with Red Raymond."
"Why do you say that?" Nancy sounded to Allan convincingly fearful.
"Well, young lady, Red Raymond likes to hold up folk of means, between here and Whitewood."
"That's outrageous," Allan said.
Jacob nodded. "To some, sure. But I hear tell that the man gives the coins he steals to poor folk. He takes the rings and jewels and such, sells them to gullible rich folk, then gives those coins to the poor as well."
"Robbing the rich to give to the poor." Allan sniffed loudly. "That's not right. I trust His Lordship does not tolerate such crime."
"Not much Lord Richard the Tall can do. Folk have seen Red Raymond, and they say he has red hair, but that's all anyone remembers."
"Hasn't His Lordship sent his guards to find this outlaw? Hasn't he tried to entice this outlaw's men to betray this criminal?"
"As to betrayal, young man, it seems this Red Raymond works by his lonesome. That's made the task for any guards difficult. But, to answer your first question, yes, His Lordship did send out some of his guards not more than a month and a half ago. It seems the silver meant for His Lordship's treasury never arrived. His Lordship sent word to Lord Harold of Whitewood of the theft. He asked Lord Harold to aid him in catching Red Raymond."
"Did he?"
"Indeed he did. The story is that Lord Harold's men found Red Raymond. They told him he was outnumbered and ought to give up. Well, Red Raymond said he wouldn't give up to any Lord. They fired their bolts at him, hit him even, but he just laughed and disappeared."
"They hit him?" Nancy asked. "He disappeared? Is this outlaw a mage?"
"Could be, young lady. Well, His Lordship's men caught up with Red Raymond a couple days later. They took a few shots at him, but their bolts didn't stick to him. Once again he slipped away into the wilderness."
Nancy shook her head. "I don't know, dear. Perhaps we should make West Bend our home."
Allan, taking up the invitation, stood a little straighter. "Nonsense. That fellow is no more a mage than this Defender that everyone talks about. I won't cower before some outlaw."
Jacob pointed a finger at him. "Red Raymond is no mere outlaw, young man. You'd best watch yourself, if for some mad reason you choose to travel on." He put his hand down and smiled. "Now, enough talk of outlaws. I'm sure you two have things you'd like to do. Let's get you settled in."
Jacob took a key from behind the counter. He walked towards a stairway at the opposite end of the dining room. Nancy followed him while Allan picked up their traveling sacks. They were led to a door partway down the hallway on the second floor. Jacob explained to them the house rules, told them when the morning and evening meals were served, and expressed his hope that their stay was comfortable.
The first thing they did when they were in the room, and were sure that Jacob had gone back downstairs, was check under the bed to make sure there was enough room to conceal their sacks. Satisfied, they pushed the sacks under the bed. They sat down on the bed to talk.
"I suppose we know a little more about Red Raymond," Nancy said.
"A little. You hadn't heard the part about him giving what he steals to the poor?" Allan asked her.
"No. Strange that wasn't in the stories that reached Stoneford."
"That's something else that bothers me. How would folk know what happened to the guards that the Lords of West Bend and Whitewood sent out to capture this outlaw?"
She shrugged. "Men talk."
"True, but you'd think both Lords wouldn't want idle talk getting out. After all, the stories make it seem that Red Raymond is a powerful man. Twice guards send by their Lords found Red Raymond. Twice they fired their crossbows at him. The first time they hit him and did no damage. The second time, well, maybe they hit him, and maybe they didn't."
"You're right. Those tales make the guards seem like poor shots."
"Or they make Red Raymond appear to have the ability to be hit and either not be harmed, or to heal any wounds he suffers."
"Well, if the guards didn't talk, who did? Red Raymond?"
"Why not? It makes sense, if you think about it. What better way to make yourself seem impressive than to spread rumors about yourself?"
"Wouldn't that be risky for him? Folk would know if a red-haired man was talking about this red-haired outlaw." She smiled and shook her head. "Says the woman who can turn her black hair white with magic."
"It might be smart of us to ask others about this Red Raymond."
"Like whom?"
"Well, we are supposed to be looking for a place to make a home. I could start by asking the local trading companies, and anyone else who has to travel, if they have a position open. If they say they do, I could ask about this outlaw and their business. If not, I could ask about travel in general, and mention Red Raymond."
"What about me?"
Allan paused for a brief moment. The answer to her question came quickly. "Jacob said this outlaw gives what he steals to the poor. Who would know if folk have received any of this largess from Red Raymond?"
She nodded her head. "The Temple of the Moon Goddess. I'll go there and ask." She frowned. "How should I ask?"
"You're a good follower of the Moon Goddess. You want to know how much charity work the Temple does. You've heard of this outlaw, and you want to know if his kindness is inspiring others."
"Very well." She kissed him. "Good luck."
He kissed her back. "And to you."
***
Until Nancy had gotten to know Allan, she'd never given temples much thought. The Temple of the Sun God was where most folk went to pray. The Temple of the Moon Goddess was where folk went to pray, and to get help if they were poor. Because she and Davy were poor, she spent time around Goddess' Temple in Stoneford, but that didn't make it a place she wanted to go if she didn't have to.
As she got to know Allan, first as a friend, then as a partner and lover, her mind opened about worship of the Moon Goddess. The Ladies of the Temple lived by a simple code of compassion. The Goddess' followers were told not to look away from suffering, but to look at it and feel moved to act. The Goddess would give good fortune to those who helped others, while the Sun God would give good fortune to those who prayed to him.
Learning more about the Goddess and her followers, Nancy discovered why the Goddess wasn't as popular as the Sun God. Pledging to the Moon meant more hard work than pledging to the Sun. Pledging to the Moon made you confront misfortune, while pledging to the Sun meant you could avoid others misfortune and only worry about your own. Yet it was that unpopularity, along with the ethic, that allowed Nancy to join Allan as a devotee of the Moon. Neither of them always had time for the weekly devotionals, but they always made a little time for prayer.
This made Nancy uncomfortable as she approached the Goddess' Temple in West Bend. She was going there, not pay homage or give help, but to ask for information. Still, she noted, this is the best place to learn if the rumors about this Red Raymond giving away what he steals are true or false.
Once past the main doors, she put both hands on her heart. I should at least honor the Goddess while I'm here. She looked around for one of the priestesses. After a few moments of waiting, a woman in white and yellow robes approached her. The woman appeared to be a decade older than her, with fair hair and brown eyes.
"May I help you, daughter?" the woman asked.
Nancy bowed her head. "Lady of the Moon, would you have time to answer a few questions?"
"What sort of questions do you have? Questions about the Goddess?"
"No, Lady. I know and follow the Goddess."
"You seem well off, young lady."
Nancy smiled. "I haven't always been this way, Lady. I've had help."
The priestess smiled back. "Haven't we all? What do you wish to know?"
"My husband and I are considering moving here."
"For what reason?"
"To make a life in a new city. Our old one was, shall I say, lacking in chances for a young couple looking to do well. And do good," she added quickly.
"I see. Go on."
"We hear talk of an outlaw, Red Raymond."
The woman raised her hand. "I have never met the fellow."
"Why would you say that?"
"We all know the gossip around this outlaw. He is supposed to share the fruits of his criminal labors with the poor."
"What do you mean, Lady?"
"Dear girl, the poor of West Bend are still poor. I know of no red-haired man handing out coins."
"Just because you haven't seen him, Lady, that doesn't mean he isn't doing it."
The priestess shook her head. "No, but I don't know any who we help who stopped coming to the Temple for help. None of the poor that we see every day have suddenly become comfortable, much less rich."
"I see. Then, I suppose there is still good work to be done in West Bend."
"Indeed, young lady."
"I should let you get back to your own good work."
"You're welcome to help."
Nancy shook her head. "My husband hasn't found work just yet. He has prospects, but for now we're living off what we, he, saved."
"I see. In that case, may the Goddess bless you."
"Thank you, Lady. Blessings to you and your Temple."
Nancy waited for the priestess to turn away before turning herself. She left the Temple and began walking back to the inn.
That was interesting, she mused. Perhaps this outlaw isn't the kind soul he pretends to be. Still, it's strange that the word around him is that he steals from the rich to give to the poor, yet there doesn't appear to be a bit of truth to that story. You would think, if he he was behind that story, he'd want at least some truth to it. If there wasn't, why would the story persist?
I suppose it could be that he's more generous in Whitewood than here.
Perhaps. I wonder what Allan's found out?
She stopped thinking about Red Raymond and focused on her route back to the inn. She returned well into the afternoon. She exchanged a few pleasantries with the innkeeper, then went to their room. Since Allan was sure she'd finish her quest before he did, he'd given her the key. She unlocked the door, took off her shoes, and stretched out on the bed.
She was startled by a knock on the door. I must have fallen asleep. "Yes?"
"It's me." She heard Allan's voice through the door.
She got up, unlocked the door, and let him in. "Any luck?"
He shrugged. He didn't say anything until she'd closed the door, and they were both sitting on the bed. "I heard versions of the same story Jacob told us. All I learned for certain is that this Raymond only goes after travelers. He doesn't try to rob traders going by road or by river. How about you?"
"If Red Raymond is giving away what he steals, he isn't giving it out to anyone in West Bend," she answered. "The priestess I spoke to seemed unhappy at the mention of his name."
"Really?"
She nodded. "That struck me, on the way back. If this outlaw is the one spreading the rumor about him helping others with what he steals, you would think he'd actually do that now and again to make certain there was proof."
"If anyone thought to ask, that is."
"True, but still. If you say you're generous, and you never help anyone, sooner or later someone's going to figure out that you aren't who you say you are."
She saw Allan nod, then get a strange expression on his face.
"You've thought of something," she told him.
He smiled. "I have. You know the magic we used to make you into the Night Witch?"
"Of course." She sucked in a breath. "He's using the same magic."
"He could very well be, yes. Put on shabby clothes, show off a few coins, perhaps buy new clothes and food with those coins, and there you are. A man who can claim to be helped by Red Raymond."
"But he couldn't do that more than once or twice? Folk would remember a man like that. They'd get to know his face."
"The next level of that illusion spell to change your hair is changing your face. The basic spell changes your hair, or eyes, or nose. One aspect to you. A more powerful spell changes several things. He could give himself a new face every time."
That makes sense. Wait. "Wouldn't that fellow always come from the same direction?"
"True." Allan was quiet for a brief moment. "Although, if he carried out that illusion here once, then once in Whitewood, that might be all he'd have to do. There are villages between West Bend Town and Whitewood City. Perhaps it would be enough to come into one or two of those to get the rumor started."
"How?"
He fell silent again, then said, "Well, a ragged fellow enters the village. Says he's from the other dukedom, and tells his tale of meeting Red Raymond and getting coins. He pays some local farmer for a meal, or buys a shirt. He then moves along the road, supposedly going to the nearest city to make something of himself.
"All anyone has to see is the ragged man with coins, spending a few, and telling his tale. It's remarkable, so the tale spreads across the village. They tell that tale to anyone who passes through. They tell it when they come to the city to trade. Soon enough it's spread across two dukedoms."
"Do it a second time, and it would appear to be a real thing." She nodded, then exhaled a breath. "If that's the case, then this outlaw is quite clever."
"He'd have to be. I imagine he's working alone, and using magic."
"How will we know for certain?"
"I have an idea or two." He looked at the door, then back to her. "However, I'm starting to smell dinner. Perhaps we should hold off on discussing those until after we eat. I don't know about you, but I've gotten hungry."
She grinned to him. "All that walking around. You fly too much."
*****
This concludes the sample of this Defender story. For more information about the series, go to the Defender page at my blog:
http://robertlcollins.blogspot.com/p/the-defender-series.html