twenty

The afternoon was slowly changing from the more youthful visage of midday, into the mature countenance of early evening. The green of the trees’ leaves seemed more sombre, the sky more muted, the birds’ songs more melancholy, and George and Roy remained sat where they were on the cart, driving towards their new destination.

‘Told I was of all the sights,

Wonders far and wide,

But for me the Gold is right

At home,

And so here I’ll be,

Happy and old.’

Roy sang quietly but his deep voice seemed to fill the empty fields about them. And his voice was good too, full of character and timbre, and George was surprised by this kind man, who had initially let him sleep in his family home and then offered to help him further, and who had also shown that he was not a simple parochial farmer, but a man with intelligence. George appreciated his help.

By the time they approached the next town around an hour had passed, and the air was beginning to cool. A slight dampness could be seen on the grass, and the horses’ nostrils sent out visible breath.

‘This is where a friend of mine lives. He’s a bit of an expert when it comes to plants and fungi, so hopefully he can tell us what it is that is in that box.’

‘Good. And you really must let me help you more Roy. You’ve already done too much for me.’

‘That’s good of you George.’

The village must have had a market today for there were several horses and carts of all sizes in and around the centre, and many people were packing up their stalls. It was a small place, but was filled with activity, that was all the more interesting after the long day on the cart. Roy knew where he was going and followed the main road that went through the village until they arrived at a fairly large house whose garden was neatly sectioned off with various plants growing in order, as well as a greenhouse.

Roy quickly jumped off the cart and hitched the horses to the fence. He ran up the path and knocked on the door, but after waiting there for a minute he returned.

‘I thought we’d be lucky to find him in. He spends most of his time walking in the countryside and documenting what he finds there. Very clever chap. For now though we’ll have to go to a pub and wait for him. Sound good to you?’

‘It sure does,’ answered George, who was already thinking about what he might get to eat.

So, after Roy had tied the horses up round the back of the house, the two men walked into the village and went into a pub that overlooked the main square. Its name was The Green Knight and inside it was busy with the early evening bustle of a country pub; people were laughing with their friends and family, talking about their day’s work, and drinking and eating with relish.

‘I’ll get you a drink Roy. Pint of ale?’

‘Of course, thanks. I’ll get us a table.’