A young man approaches the Company...
Sunset is a strange thing - it can seem to last forever, or night can fall with nary a warning like the ball from a cannon fired on a distant mountaintop. But one thing is always certain - it is often the source of strange and unexpected things.
I hunched up on the saddle of this Spanish nag, while the mules pulled the small wagon behind. I thought for a moment about the long journey, and how difficult it was to find a moving target - and it wasn't as though I'd started in any sane place anyway. Four months to carry the long journey across Arabia and Iraq, and another six of joining wagon trains and caravans along the Mediterranean coast through the lands of northern Africa. From the shores of ancient Carthage it was a small journey to Sicily, and the shining jewel of Palermo. But as luck would have it, I'd missed my goal by a matter of days - a contract, the first in almost a decade, and they were even further gone.
I saw the scout finally, but he'd already seen me long before. I shook my head at my inattentiveness, and raised both hands to show I wasn't a threat. With the blood-red sky behind me it would be plain what I meant, I hoped. I'd heard the Genoese were camped here, with the bulk of the Spanish armies engaged elsewhere. The Spaniards still held little love for those who came from the East, even those who still bore Christian blood.
The scout came towards me, slowing to a gentle canter then a walk. He was obviously surprised to see me out here all alone like this. "What kind of idiot leads a wagon to a war, without so much as a single guard?"
Good, he spoke English. If he had been French, this would have been more of a problem. Supposedly, the armies of the English wouldn' tbe found. This was still at least nominally Spanish territory - so that meant these were mercenaries. Maybe my luck had turned for the better.
"I won't say I'm sane, but I'm no idiot. My name is Corwyn Alambar, and I've come a long way to meet with a company of men who call the beautiful Palermo home." I heard my own voice self-consciously - I'd studied English, Spanish, Italian, and even that gutteral German tongue, but the unmistakable flavor of Persia was still there. I hoped it wouldn't cause too much trouble.
The scout seemed surprised at my answer. It was a moment before he countered, "And what makes you think they'd be found here in the Spanish frontier? Palermo's a long way from here, after all."
I knew it would be difficult to trust me, but I already knew what I needed to - he was associated with the Free Company somehow. My luck had changed, finally. "I know - I was there not long ago. I'd come to offer my services to this staltwart crew as a surgeon and chemist, and I'd found I'd missed them by a matter of days. I went to a tavern for a drink to recover my wits, and spoke at length with the owner, who said that I might be needed, and said I should hurry to the north of Spain. So here I am, hoping to find them. Perhaps you can tell me the way?"
The scout mulled this over for a moment, and getured back down the road. "They're only an hour's trot from here, two maybe with your cart. I'll go on ahead and let them know you're coming - they should just be settling in for dinner, so you should arrive before they're ready to bed down."
He wheeled his horse around and headed back down the road, kicking up a small cloud of dust. I felt a twinge in my gut, a bit of nervousness, perhaps. I hoped they would have a use for me here. I spurned the nag into the best imitation of a trot she could muster, with the mules following behind. With luck, our long journey would soon be over.
* * * * * * * *
The scout was waiting on the edge of the encampment for me. He didn't say a word; he didn't have to. I knew that if I did anything that made me a threat, I'd be cut down before I could turn my horse. The Free Company was known for being fair, but also for their skill and ferocity. They had routed Jannisarries, after all; that took a skill that few men possessed.
The Captain's tent wasn't as large as I had expected, and a boy was just leaving, carrying the remnants of the evening meal. The camp was less boisterous than I'd expected, but then again, they were off to war.
The tent flap was opened, and the scout smiled to me. "Well, go on inside. He just had dinner, so he won't eat you. Yet." He laughed, and I couldn't help but chuckle myself - I must've looked like I was facing an audience with God Himself.
The tent itself was fairly sparse, save a large table with a map of Europe laid out atop it. There were two men in here - a young lad crouched over a book, and an older gentleman, his bearing strong and charismatic, though he seemed slightly worn - the wages of war, I imagined. Thinking of nothing better, I lowered into a courtly bow, or the best imitation I could muster.
"Captain of the Free Company, I am Corwyn Alambar, chirurgeon and chemist from Isfahan, and I come to offer you my services."
I looked up expectantly, and found him shaking his head with a slight smile. Having seen the others in camp, I suddenly realized why. I wore the billowy, loose white clothing of the Arabians, complete with turban, with a sash of crimson - one couldn't blame someone from Christian Europe from thinking my a bit gaudy. And admitedly, it must look strange on a young caucasian man with a shock of copper hair poking from under the turban. I realized I must look like some sort of travelling entertainer.
"Well, sit down. If you're really from Isfahan," he gave a look to the young man with the book, who just shrugged, "then you've come a long way to see us. I can't just let you join - but I do want to hear your story. After that, maybe we can make a decision."
I took a seat on a cushion on the floor, and drew a deep breath. This would sound even more improbable, but I didn't have a choice.
* * * * * *
"Medicine has been a preoccupation, some would say an obsession, with my family for generations. From the days of the Black Death, at least one member of each generation has been a doctor. After that plague, my family left Wales and moved to Moorish Spain, studying in Grenada. According to the family legend, we left in the last days of that beautiful nation, and fled to Alexandria, and then to Isfahan, studyng from the scholars there."
"I was born 24 years ago, and my mother died in birth. My father never truly recovered from his loss, but it made him that much more determined to make sure that I was better at his craft than he was. He finally died last year, and it was his wish that I come to find you, men of honor, and offer my skills and services. I've been travelling for nearly that long to find you - and I missed you in Palermo by only a few days."
"I am, as I said, a surgeon and a chemist. I can read and write in a number of tongues, and I can ride a horse. I know some
algebra, enough to help cannon fire, and I know which is the proper edge of a sword and a pistol if need be, though I am no true soldier. It is my hope..."
The Captain cut me off with a wave of his hand. "You've given me things to think about - you can set your tent up outside camp, and ride with us in the morning. I'll likely send a few of my men to speak with you in the next hour or two, and around sunrise. We've already got a surgeon, but I'm not sending you away yet."
Through the conversation, the boy had been writing constantly - a talented scribe if ever I'd seen one. They may be men of war, but they appreciate scholarship as well. I stood, and bid the Captain good evening before heading out to place my tent. I doubted I'd be able to sleep - I was too nervous, and the butterflies had taken roost in my gut. I could brew something for that, but then I might miss someone.
Perhaps whatever God watched over my family all these years would give me a sign tonight. If not, then perhaps I could set up shop in Palermo. It was a beautiful city, after all.
* * * * * * * *
(Okay, not the best writing I've done, but an introduction. I'll let everyone else see if you want to keep me around.
I've been dying to get into this - this has been WONDERFUL writing, and a lot of fun just to read. Thank you, everyone! )
-Corey
P.S. I may have missed it, but where is the Free Company homepage?
