Traven glanced back up at the barmaid. He quickly looked back into his mug, but his gaze was almost immediately drawn back to the woman. She really was quite beautiful. If all of the other men were enjoying watching her, why couldn’t he enjoy it? He was a man after all was he not? He finished off the rest of the ale in his mug and began to clap with the other men in the tavern. She was beautiful! To the disappointment of Traven, the woman finally stopped singing and danced on out of the room, smiling as the cheers of the men in the tavern followed her. Traven decided he wanted to talk to the beautiful barmaid and stood up to follow her. He tried to walk in the direction she had gone, but the room seemed to be spinning around and around and around. He tried to take another step, but instead of going forward, he crashed into the table next to him, spilling ale all over the man sitting there.
“I’m awfully sorry bout that sir,” Traven slobbered as he pushed himself up from the table, spilling a bowl of stew onto the man’s lap.
“You’re gonna be sorry, you drunk . . .”
Traven did not have a chance to hear the rest of the man’s sentence as he watched with a grin on his face as the man’s fist suddenly filled his vision with darkness.
13
Traven slowly sat up in the darkness. His head hurt so bad that he almost flopped right back down in the straw.
Straw? Where am I?
He tried to figure out where he was, but he had no idea. He dimly remembered going to a tavern with Blaize and something about a singing barmaid, but other than that everything was rather fuzzy. As Traven adjusted to the light, he realized that one of his eyes would not open as far as the other. He touched it softly and grimaced as he found that his eye was swollen. He looked around and discovered he was in some type of a barn or something like it. Blaize was nowhere to be found. Tiny slivers of light streamed into the barn letting Traven know that it was morning. He wondered how late it was but stopped thinking. The pounding in his head was not getting any better and concentrating on anything at all was almost impossible. He started to ease himself slowly back down onto the straw when the door suddenly flew open, blinding him.
“Rise and shine,” Blaize yelled out. “I already got Pennon saddled for you, so let’s get out of here before the owner comes out and finds us. Wow, you sure have a nice shiner!”
Traven slowly rose to his feet, squinting against the brightness of the light from outside as he tenderly touched his eye again. As he stumbled out of the shed, he saw that the sun had not even come up yet. However, it was already too bright outside for someone whose head was pounding like his. He made his way over to Pennon and slowly pulled himself up onto the tall horse. Once on top, he kept his eyes shut as much as possible and let Pennon follow Flame by himself. Every step sent a jolt through his body, making the pounding in Traven’s head even worse.
“Quit all of that groaning or you’ll wake someone up,” Blaize called out from in front.
Traven clamped his mouth shut and tried not to moan as they made their way down the street. It was then that he finally realized that they were not in Four Bridges anymore. He slowly turned and glanced back down the road. In the distance he could make out the city. Right behind them was a little farm.
“When did we leave the city?” Traven asked. He was thoroughly confused. “What happened last night?”
“Oh, I suppose you don’t remember getting us kicked out of the tavern,” Blaize said. When Traven only stared back blankly, he went on. “Well, here it is in a nutshell. You drank way too much, started a fight which I had to finish, we were thrown out of the tavern, and I dragged you out of the city to the little shed where we spent the rest of the night. I am not happy about that. I was really looking forward to sleeping in a bed, but because of you I ended up sleeping on the ground again. So, I hope it was all worth it to you.”
“I’m sorry,” Traven managed in between his muffled groans. “You can cut my head off and make us both happy.”
“Why would I want to do that? If I did that for you, you wouldn’t learn your lesson. I guess this will teach you not to drink so MUCH!”
Traven collapsed down on Pennon’s neck with his head between his hands as Blaize shouted the last word. His head felt like it was going to explode. He was dimly aware through the pain that Blaize was laughing hysterically. It was not funny at all. Blaize had known what was going to happen and hadn’t bothered to stop him from drinking too much.
Darn Blaize!
He wouldn’t be laughing if his head felt like it was being pounded by a huge mallet. Traven clung onto the saddle and tried not to think of the pain as they continued on down the road. With each jolt, he became more nauseated from the pain in his head and the queasiness of his stomach.
“Hey Traven! Want some moldy biscuits for breakfast? They smell pretty good,” Blaize said while trying to hold back a grin.
That was it for Traven. He leaned over the side of Pennon and emptied what little was in his stomach. Blaize started laughing again, but all that Traven could do was lay back down against Pennon and wish he was dead. Drinking didn’t make someone a man, it made them an idiot. He promised himself that he would never get drunk again. The only things that came from drinking were bad judgement and pain.
When they finally stopped at midday, Traven was feeling a little better, but his head was still killing him. Blaize made a quick fire and boiled some water. He then crushed up some herbs that he pulled out of a sack in his saddlebag and mixed it in with the hot water.
“Here,” he said, handing it to Traven. “This will help with your headache.”
Traven got a whiff of it and was not sure if it was really supposed to help his head or if Blaize just wanted to see him gag on it. Traven stared into his cup for a while, trying to work up the courage to drink. He finally tipped it back and gulped it down as quickly as possible. It was the bitterest thing he had ever tasted in his life. The taste it left in his mouth was almost as bad. Blaize just grinned and quickly cleaned everything up. By the time they were riding again, Traven’s headache was beginning to slowly go away. After another five minutes, it was almost completely gone. He was actually able to sit up in the saddle and enjoy the surroundings in the cool air of autumn. Blaize’s bitter tea had actually worked.
“I can see you’re feeling better,” Blaize said with a smile. Traven kept his silence. “Well, aren’t you going to thank me?”
“You know, Blaize, I would thank you if you hadn’t waited until now to give me the medicine. You could have given it to me this morning.”
“I could have, but then you wouldn’t have remembered as well what happens when you drink too much. I waited to give it to you for your own good.”
Traven just shook his head. He was pretty sure Blaize had waited just so he could laugh at him while he was in pain all morning to get even with him for causing them to spend the night in a shed. The rest of the day went much better than the morning had. Traven felt perfectly normal except for a slight queasy feeling in his stomach. When Blaize’s medicine finally began to wear off, all Traven felt was a slight aching in his head.
When they stopped for the night, Blaize asked if Traven felt well enough to begin his new exercises, but Traven declined. He wanted desperately to learn the new exercises, but he was afraid if he started jumping around his headache would come back in full force. Blaize didn’t seem to mind, so Traven didn’t feel guilty about foregoing his training for a night. He helped Blaize get the camp set up, and they roasted the rabbits they had caught during the afternoon. After dinner was over, Traven leaned back and stared up into the clear night sky.
“Hey, Blaize, how many stars do you think there are in the sky?”
“What?” Blaize asked, looking up confusedly.
“Well, haven’t you ever wondered how many stars are up there?”
“Not really, Traven. I look up and I see thousands of stars. I see there are too many to count, and instead of wasting my time wondering how many there are up there, I am satisfied knowing that there are just simply too many to count. What does it really matter how many stars are up there?”
“I guess it doesn’t matter. I was just wondering,” Traven answered, shrugging. “Didn’t you ever used to wonder about things you’d probably never find out? It’s fun to wonder about how things might be.” When Blaize stayed silent, Traven glanced over at him. He was staring into the fire with a far off look in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Blaize gave a start at Traven’s words and looked back at him. Blaize sighed.
“I was just remembering something that I’ve tried to forget but haven’t succeeded to. I guess I might as well tell you about it. I haven’t talked about it for a long time.” Blaize took a deep breath. “Yes, there was a time when I used to day dream almost as much as you. All that changed awhile ago. When I was only a few years older than you are now, I thought the world was great. Everything was going perfect for me, and the most beautiful woman ever to live loved me. She had hair like midnight and eyes the color of the raging sea.” Blaize stared back into the fire as his gaze once again took on a faraway look. “I never thought someone like her could really love me, and then she was going to be taken away from me . . .”
* * * * *
“You know I love you, Blaize,” Sherrial said with a teasing grin on her face. Blaize stared back at her not knowing whether she was joking or being serious.
“I’m being serious,” Blaize said timidly. “Is that really how you feel?”
Sherrial put on a serious face and nodded.
“Then it doesn’t matter what your father wants. If you don’t want to marry the baron’s son, don’t. Your happiness is more important than money.” Sherrial turned away from Blaize’s intense gaze.
“It’s not that easy. It’s not just that my dad wants this for me. You don’t understand what it’s like to be offered the chance to actually be somebody. You know how rare it is for a peasant to be adopted into the nobles. This is my one chance. If I marry Cecil, I’ll become the Baroness tal Drathar one day. I love you, but I don’t know what to do.” Blaize walked over to Sherrial and took her in his arms. She leaned her head against his chest as tears began to stream down her face. “I almost feel like I have to do this, like I owe it to all the peasants from our village. I feel like I owe it to my father. He wants this so much for me and would be so proud. And then I feel like I owe it to you not to marry Cecil. I don’t know what to do!”
Sherrial began sobbing quietly against Blaize’s chest as she clung to him. Blaize held her tightly as he stroked her vibrant, long black hair. He didn’t know what to do either. Maybe it would be better for him to let Sherrial marry Cecil. She would have all the comforts that she deserved and everyone in the village would benefit from having Sherrial as the new baroness. But how could he live while the woman he loved was married to another man. He knew that he couldn’t be happy without Sherrial in his life.
Why did the baron’s son have to be hunting near the village while Sherrial was out in the woods? Why did he have to be so enchanted with her beauty? If the baron’s son had not bumped into her, none of this would have ever happened. Blaize had been considering proposing to Sherrial before all of this started. If he hadn’t been so afraid, he would have asked her father a long time ago for her hand in marriage. Why did things have to happen like this in life? The more Blaize thought of his love for Sherrial, the more certain he was of what he had to do. He took a deep breath when Sherrial had finally stopped crying and pushed her gently back from him. He looked her in the eyes and did the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.
“Sherrial, you don’t owe anything to anybody.” Blaize took another deep breath. “And you definitely don’t owe anything to me. The only person you owe this decision to is yourself. You need to do what is the best for you. You need to do what will make you the happiest.” When he was finished, he waited for a while in the silence and then turned and walked slowly away when she didn’t say anything.
As soon as he was out of sight, he picked up his speed and ran the rest of the way to his small cottage. He went inside, slammed the door shut behind him, and slumped down onto one of his few chairs. He shouldn’t be so upset. He should have realized that she would pick the baron’s son over him. Blaize had nothing to offer her but this small cottage and himself. Cecil could give her whatever she wanted. He had land, money, and prestige. Why would she choose a poor man who did not even know what he was going to do with his life? He had held on to the hope that she might love him enough to give up everything for him, but he realized now how foolish that had been. Blaize slowly fell asleep as he sat in the chair pondering what there was to live for in his life.