Dawning of a Seer

The Mad King

Grot was surprised that nothing had changed. The dark grey stone of Wyvern's walls still stood as they had for centuries. Gruesome faced gargoyles and dragons heads looking down menacingly from the outer battlements intimidating travellers and townsfolk alike. It seemed as if the eternity he had spent beyond the Mortis Gate has been but a dream and he had only left this place for a brief moment in time.

Without thinking he steered his pony through the gatehouse and onto the cobbled streets into the town square which enhanced his trance-like state even further. Cured meats and pheasants hung on from iron hooks and fish lay in wooden buckets filled with ice outside on open fronted butchers. A barrow stall stood beside it, stacked high with shallow wicker baskets full of vibrant vegetables and grains.

Grot's heart skipped a beat as he saw the double-fronted bakery, displaying loaves and sweet treats behind it square glass windows. He dismounted and led his pony to the nearby water trough, securing her to one of the iron rings set into the stone wall nearby.

He peered through the dusty windows and watched the glow of the over as the baker used a long metal paddle to retrieve the rounded loaves of bread that were now risen and golden in colour. The smell dragged Grot from the present and he envisaged the girl he had loved, kneading dough upon a marble slab, her freckled nose, and pink cheeks covered in flour.

"Are ya buying or just steaming up me windows?" asked a red-faced woman, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Candice?" replied Grot, his mind still in the past as he removed his face from the window glass.

"Mrs Higgs to you," the woman replied sternly.

The haze of memories cleared from Grot's mind and he looked at the woman stood next to him. "Excuse me, good lady. I was just admiring your goods." He smiled warmly.

"They be for eating, not looking at ya know," she crossed her arms, refusing to submit to his charm.

"Do you have any cinnamon cakes?"

"Not today, but we ave spiced apple buns."

Grot followed her inside and came out having parted with a piece of silver, devouring the sticky buns as he walked out of the square and ventured up into the main street known as the 'Parade' which led towards the inner gates of Wyvern Castle.

Walking towards him were two young women dressed in noble clothes, a small hound following loyally behind them. Remembering the reason for his journey here, he dusted off his clothes and spat not his hand, patting down the loose strands of his hair with his spit in readiness to greet them.

Myra giggles at the sight of the short tubby man walking towards them. He was too smartly dressed to be a peasant so she presumed he was a travelling merchant of sorts, but from which region she could not think. Being brought up in Treggorne she had met and seen many travellers from far and wide, but none like the man walking towards them. His skin was pink and blotchy from too much sun and he had bright pokey eyes and a large hooked nose which seemed too big a feature for his rounded face. She whispered to Annabella who tried to suppress her laughter as the distance between them and the approaching traveller lessened. To Annabella's annoyance, her hound suddenly ran at the man, jumping up in friendly excitement.

Glad of the opportunity the canine had presented him with, Grot greeted the dog with gusto, allowing him to lick at his face and scratching behind the hound's long ears.

"Kip," Annabella called without success. "I'm sorry sir, he's usually very obedient." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Don't be harsh on him my lady. He just knows a friend when he sees one," Grot replied with a broad grin.