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Ludwig's thoughts were interrupted by a warrior standing in the middle of the road as he adjusted his belt, leaving scant room for Ludwig to pass.
“Out of the way,” he ordered.
The man looked up, revealing the face of a youth. “In a moment.”
Ludwig shook his head, for the voice was obviously that of a female.
“For Saint’s sake,” the woman cursed. Clearly she was having trouble with her buckle, but Ludwig had little concern for such things.
“Can’t you do that elsewhere?” he demanded, a sharp tone to his words.
“Hold on to your horse,” came the reply.
“Do you know who I am?”
“No, nor do I care. You don’t own this road”—she looked around—“not that it’s much of a road.”
“I have the right of way.”
“What makes you figure that?”
“I am a knight,” he announced. “Sir Ludwig of…” He struggled to remember his false identity.
She finished fiddling with her belt and looked up at him, hands on hips. “Having trouble with your memory, are you?”
“That’s none of your concern,” he snapped. “The fact of the matter is I’m clearly a knight, and you should show proper respect.”
“Respect has to be earned.”
“Just get out of the way, woman.”
“Woman, is it now? Didn’t anyone ever teach you manners?”
“Who do you think you are, lecturing me?”
“Me? My name's Cyn.”
“Cyn? What kind of a name is that?”
“It’s short for Cynthia. I’m a mercenary.”
Ludwig was overcome with amusement. “You? A mercenary? Don’t make me laugh."
She stepped closer, moving to the side of Ludwig’s horse. “You think that’s funny?”
He stared down at her. “You don’t look much like a warrior to me.”
“And how many warriors do you know?”
Ludwig waved his hand, indicating the nearby tents. “Look around. This place is filled with them.”
Cyn took a quick glance. “Those are nothing but the spoiled sons of nobles. They wouldn’t know a battle from a privy.”
Ludwig turned in the saddle, bending lower to make sure she heard him properly. “You should watch your tongue. It could get you into trouble.”
“Trouble, is it?” She reached out with lightning quickness, grasping his forearm and pulling him from the saddle. He landed in the mud with a splash.
“It’s not me who should be minding my manners,” she added.
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