Castle Guard
Ulrich blinked in the gods be damned desert heat as he trudged over the baked scrubland toward a shadow, a castle. They built it around an oasis for parched travelers if the rumors were true. Maybe they built it around an eligible princess as well.
He was amazed that there was only one guard outside the castle. He wore no obvious armor or shield, and his desert scimitar was no match for the Northman’s axe. Moreover, he looked well past his prime.
When Ulrich reached a spear-throw from the guard, the man stepped forward and held out his hand. A string of unknown language followed.
“I am sorry, my friend,” Ulrich said, showing his empty hands. “I do not speak your language.”
The leather-skinned guard regarded him for a moment and scratched his scruffy beard. If he was like every other castle guard in every other part of Salvania, he was probably figuring how to extract a “toll” for entry.
He stepped forward to meet Ulrich. “Why is you be here?” the guard asked. “What is you busy-ness?”
“I was sent by my spirit guide to seek a beautiful princess,” Ulrich said, knowing that these wary folk were superstitious enough not to question directives from the Otherland.
“Who is you name?”
“I am Ulrich. I am from the north.” Ulrich pointed over his shoulder. “Where the air will not bake a man’s lungs.”
“You make white skin bake very much here. Like a,” the guard paused, making a hand gesture.
“Bread?” Ulrich offered.
“Bread,” the guard said smiling with yellow teeth.
They resumed staring at each, the sun crisping Ulrich’s skin like a roasted lamb. Finally, he said, “I would enter the castle.” He pointed at the promising shade, his mind desperate for a cool drink of water.
“What is you busy-ness?” The guard patted a leather pouch on his belt. It jingled slightly.
Ulrich produced a copper coin stamped with an eagle’s head. “I will have a wife.” He stepped forward, towering over the guard, and handed the copper to him.
The guard stepped back and looked at the strange coin. Ulrich figured the guard had never seen this kind of coin before, and he had no way to judge its value.
The Northman nodded and continued past the guard, one hand resting easily on the battle ax riding on his hip.
“You be welcome to the much biggest city called Kartan,” the guard called.
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