[Epilogue] Travelling in Style (Closed)

[Nathaniel Mason]

[Bit of fluff as I hadn't written anything in a while.]


Master Waenwright sat on a nearby barrel, his amusement not showing on his face. In his many years making wagons and carriages, he had certainly dealt with the wealthy and the noble before, but they were almost always more interested in how pretty his conveyances looked. Certainly none had ever lain in the dirt under one of his carriages before. He had to give the boy some grudging respect for that. While appearances might be a consideration to this whore, function, rather than form, was obviously his chief concern. Also, whatever may be thought of him, the boy paid cash and on time;
something that also set him apart from most nobles.

Nathan climbed out from beneath the carriage. “Your work is excellent Master Waenwright,” he smiles. “and I am very pleased with the changes. I’ve only two concerns now. The springs are set for four passengers, but do they take into account the carriage being fully loaded with equipment and luggage. Also, there is a knothole in the wood of one of the back struts. I wouldn’t want it snapping enroute.”

Waenwright glanced at one of his apprentices. The man paled at the novice mistake. Luckily the boy was sharp eyed enough and clever enough to spot the mistake. Most clients wouldn’t be and the consequences could’ve been serious. “It’ll be taken care of.”

“Thank you, Master.” Nathan nods. “Now that just leaves the question of a driver. Were you able to make any inquiries?”

“There are a few that might do if you were staying in the Riverlands. Slim pickings when you’re off to the Vale. Most won’t go that far or leave their families for that long.”

“So there is no-one?”

“Well… I wouldn’t say that.”

“But no-one you would like to recommend.”

“Do you know Syd?”

“We’ve met.” grinned Nathan. Syd was a font of information for ready coin;
some of which was even true. “Can he do the job?”

“Aye, he knows how to drive and he’s good with horses, but I can’t recommend him-”

“-because he’s a liar, a cheat, a thief and a wastrel.”

Waenwright chuckled. “I see you have met him.”




It took most of the remainder of the morning to track the man down to Mother Wembly’s barn. He lay passed out in the hay loft from a late night’s revelry. Not normally a drinker, he was obviously celebrating a successful week of work after the tourney. It didn’t take long for Nathan to locate his stash - twenty silver, perhaps thirty in various coins;
a successful week indeed, a year’s pay for the average crofter.

Replacing he stash he knelt down beside Syd, and softly brushed his cheek to wake him. The man took his hand and lazily turned over, tucking it under his head. He stirred dreamily and murmured “You smell nice.”

Nathan leaned down and whispered in the man’s ear. “Thanks. You do too. I’ve always loved the smell of fresh hay.”

Slowly Syd’s eyes opened and he turned to look up into Nathan’s blue gaze that sparkled with amusement. Bolting upright, he scrabbled backwards only to hit his head on a rafter brace. “Nathan, what are yeh doin’ here.”

The man looked terrified. Nathan idly wondered which frightened him more – the thought they may have slept together, or the thought he may have enjoyed it. “I am here to hire you for a job.” he replied, sitting down cross-legged before the surprised young man.

Most would think that calling Syd attractive placed more burden on the word than it could be reasonably expected to bear. His features were vaguely reminiscent of a weasel;
unfortunate given his predispositions. His nose was too small, his mouth too big, his eyes mismatched and his ears uneven. He had several days’ worth of facial growth, and his hair might charitably be called disheveled, although more accurately called ‘rat’s nest’;
currently numerous bits of hay were sticking out of it.

Still, Nathan was not most people. The small pointed nose balanced his face well with the small pointed chin. The large mouth framed rows of even white teeth. The mismatched eyes were a beautiful shade of amber. The uneven ears counterbalanced the mismatched eyes. The days of facial growth softened the sharpness of his features, and the mane of hair was a shining shade of oak. He also had a beautifully lean body, the kind that can only be achieved by someone who needed to run a lot. Even the bits of hay lent themselves to a kind of attractiveness;
the same kind shared by mongrel puppies.

“What kinda job?” he asked with narrowed eyes.

“I am going to the Vale and I need a driver. I understand you have those skills."


“Why would I want ta go to the Vale?”

“Why would you want to stay here? You have no family or girl. The town is emptying of easy marks. You might be able to live on what you gotten till the next tourney, so long as a bigger fish doesn’t take it from you. Besides, I’d have thought you’d appreciate the break from a town where everyone knows you.”

“How much?”

“Four silver a week plus I’ll take care of your food and lodging.”

Syd tried to hide his surprise but was hampered by his hangover and bumped head. That was easily double or more the going rate. “I’m just expected ta drive you, right? I don’t give up my ass to any man.”

“A loss to the world, I’m sure.” replied Nathan dryly. “I just expect you to drive me.” The carriage that is. Smirked Nathan. You can’t afford to drive me any other way. Still, a night or two with Syd wouldn’t be unpleasant, and would probably do the man more good than harm.

“Five silver a week.” he replied.

Nathan laughed. “Four silver and you can have a night with Lysette before we leave. Do we have a deal?”

Syd thought for a moment and nodded.

Nathan smiled and rose. Most men are such simple creatures. Bit of money, good food, good drink and someone to warm their bed – they’re happy. It’s too bad all men aren’t that way. The world would be a much simpler and much less dangerous place.

“We leave in a week or so. Clean up anything you need to and stay out of trouble.” said Nathan. “And if you’re going to stash your money, do it under the chicken coup. Most people won’t think to dig through shit and those that do won’t want to.”

Syd’s eyes immediately darted to his hiding spot as Nathan turned to go. Amateur. He sighed. Nathan was going to have to train him just for his own self-preservation.


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