Far Traveler by Rebecca Tingle

Author:Rebecca Tingle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2010-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

The market at Cirenceaster had the familiar sounds of animals crying out and people calling, and the mingled smells of dung and bread, meat and straw, earth, cheese, leather, beer. The men I had traveled with were soon occupied in deciding where to set up their goods. But the driver who had spoken with me, true to his word, took my shoulder and with his other hand pointed to where a street cut away from the open market.

“If you go down that way, you’ll come to a place, larger and richer than the other buildings. That’s where Osgar keeps his household. Travelers of higher birth always look for shelter there, knowing Osgar’s table will be heavy with food, and the floor welcoming to those who need a place to spend the night. Good luck, boy,” he said, finishing with a clap on my shoulder that made me wince and take my first couple of steps away from him. “We freemen liked your talk and even your singing well enough. Let’s see if you can please Lord Osgar.”

Osgar’s hall loomed at the end of the street, just as the farmer had said. A vaulted roof thatched with new straw stood above great doors of carved wood. But although this was splendid, it was the decoration above the doors that caught my eye. A huge pair of antlers had been hung directly over the entrance, and they were covered with pure gold.

I stood there while Winter lipped the grass at my feet, and I thought hard about what I saw. Osgar must be a very rich thane, indeed. And he must be powerful: Clearly none of the poorer neighbors had made any move to seize the fortune in gold that hung above the hall door, even though I could see no guard posted.

Gaining entrance into the hall proved as easy as asking. A boy from Osgar’s stables took Winter’s reins, and the steward led me through the whole length of the hall until we reached an empty corner at its opposite end, not far from the high table. Here he told me to sit, back against the wall, until the guests were ready for entertainment. At first I thought the sight of my fine horse had persuaded the steward to let me come to the night’s feast. But as I settled myself for a long wait, I realized that my request must be familiar to the people who served at Osgar’s table. To them, I was simply one of many scops traveling through Cirenceaster who had stopped at the tun’s richest hall to try their luck with Lord Osgar and his guests.

Little did they know how terrified I was to find myself in this position so quickly—I needed to find some new words for my performance! I took out my book, thinking that the horns over the hall entrance had reminded me of something inside it. I turned the pages until I found what I wanted, then read and read again, memorizing words until evening fell.

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