This is the story of Merlo, a young man living in the early Roman era and the thrills and spills of the oppertunities availiable to men of that time, good and bad. I hope you will enjoy as I realise that the Mead Hall is hardcore.
Merlo
The rusty door to the tavern swung open, merry laughter momentarily filled the street before the door slammed shut. Even the music stopped as silence greeted the newcomer, or was he?
“Merlo, how nice to see you again, are you still up to your old tricks?”
“I do not know what you maen, sire.”
“Ah but you do Merlo, on the night we were attacked, they broke our defences so easily it was obvious they had inside help. And you vanished that night, to where I do not know, but I can guess, oh I can guess alright.”
Sweat dripped off Merlo’s forehead as he struggled to find reply, to find an answer. He tuned as if to go back onto the cobbled street, to escape the heat, only to find his path barred by one of the King’s guard, Bragavance, 6ft 7 hulk of a man who pushed him back into the tavern. Merlo fell backwards over a low table, his shaggy black hair plastered across his eyes by ale. He drew his travelling cloak over his head as he was dragged in front of the King.
“Merlo, I cannot have traitors in my Kingdom.”
Merlo was kicked and punched to within an inch of his life in that tavern, the beating only stopped when the King had seen enough. Merlo woke up 6 days later, his face still telling the story of what happened. He stumbled out of the city and kept walking to where his legs would take him.
The sun was baking him but he staggered on, his head swimming through dehydration, his vision cloudy, the dirt road just seemed to never end. The night seemed to be drawing in fast, too fast, darkness engulfed him and he fell down, down... down.
“Merlo ... MERLO ... Wake, arise with me, this is your God Merlo, do not be afraid. Take this water and drink, may your thoughts be clearer, my your vision cease to fail you, There will be a man in the next village, he will seek you, he will heal you. Go!”
Merlo woke to fresh, clean linen sheets and bowl of fresh, clean water. He splashed his face and enjoyed the wonderful feeling of refreshment. He sprung out of bed with the vigour of a much younger man and walked to the kitchen, there he saw the man his Lord had told him of.
“Morning Merlo, how are you feeling today, I must say you are looking well.”
“I am well, I thank you for kindess.”
“Think nothing of it, now go on your way Merlo. And keep safe.”
Merlo set off on the road again, he hoped his hood would keep foul characters from spying on him. He followed a dirt track to Bononia, a small town in the north of Italy.
Rumour had it that Bononia was Roman held, to Merlo this did not matter. It was a new beginning for him and he was not about to disappoint.
Merlo
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