Puss in Boots (Timeless Fairy Tales Book 6) (6 page)

Chapter 4

Wandering in Wied

Gabrielle shoved the three sacks of coins and stolen goods in a pile. She also found a saddlebag stuffed with clothes and fabrics, as well as several sacks of food.

“I hope Puss finds that pack animal,” she said, working up a sweat as she pushed another sack of food against the growing mound of packs they would take to Wied. “I can’t carry all of this
and
his ‘brawny’ carcass.”

She found some rope and bound the drunkards to the table and the sleeping bandit to the bed before wiggling outside and roping the remaining two bandits together. She was tying their feet when she heard the steady footfalls of hooved animals.

Puss popped out of the trees leading two oxen, a riding horse, two donkeys, and six chickens.

“The bandits attacked Wied last night and stole whatever livestock they could bring. It seems they slaughtered one of the chickens this morning, but otherwise, the animals are all accounted for,” Puss said.

“Can you talk to them?” Gabrielle asked, her brow wrinkling.

“To a certain extent. They are not especially intelligent—particularly the chickens—but they understand bandits and raiding well enough,” Puss said, surveying his entourage. “Put the packs on the oxen. You may ride the horse.”

“I can walk,” Gabrielle said, patting the gray donkeys. They were much smaller than the large, crabby donkey that belonged to the merchant-mage she had bought Puss’s boots from. One donkey lipped her palm with his velveteen muzzle and tried sucking her fingers into his mouth to search for a treat.

“Nonsense. Save yourself the trouble and ride the horse. It won’t mind.” Puss inspected the secured bandits.

“I don’t know how to ride,” Gabrielle said.

“
What
?” Puss said, his voice pinched with shock and horror.

She shrugged. “There are two horses in all of Ilz. The rest of us own mules, donkeys, oxen, or draft horses used exclusively for pulling carts, plowing, and the like.”

“You will need to learn soon. You may as well begin now. The horse is trustworthy. He is an older gelding who much desires to return home,” Puss said, his ears moving with unvoiced emotion—more shock and…pity, perhaps?

Gabrielle tied food sacks together and tossed them across an ox’s back. “Are you
certain
? You said none of these animals were intelligent.”

“I will confess, Mistress, I believe
all
animals to be rather stupid in comparison to myself. It is one of my few and miniscule faults,” Puss said. “Is this everything?”

“There’s some more food, but I don’t see how we can haul it without a cart. Did you see one with the animals?”

“No. We will leave it behind. At this point, it is more important that we begin our journey. If we reach Wied early this afternoon, we can give the villagers directions so they may find the camp themselves.” Puss watched as she loaded goods onto the animals.

When Gabrielle finished, she found the horse waiting for her next to a large boulder.

“Come now.” Puss joined Gabrielle on the boulder as she twined her hands through the horse’s mane. “Riding is a requirement for adventure. Think of this as a journey in itself.”

Gabrielle shook her head. “I’m not afraid. I always dreamed about riding a horse—I just thought my first time I would at least have a bridle.” She eyed the bare horse. Although he wore a rope halter—with which he had been picketed before Puss had saved him—he had no saddle or bridle. She would be forced to cling to his back like a leech and hope for the best.

“You will ride like an elf. What of it?” Puss said.

“Elves ride without saddles and bridles?”

“Indeed. The elves of the whitewood forests use their legs and voices to communicate with their mounts,” Puss said.

“I would like to see that.” Gabrielle eased over the horse’s withers, settling herself on his glossy back. Puss joined her, taking a seat on the horse’s rump.

“Let us begin our heroic journey to Wied. Onward!” Puss exclaimed.

The horse began walking, and Gabrielle clamped on him with every muscle of her body. They started down the deer trail—a parade of domesticated animals following them. (The chickens roosted atop the oxen, clucking and ruffling their feathers as they moved along.)

By the time they reached the dirt road, she had relaxed enough that she could sit up straight and let her legs hang down. “This is pretty fun,” she said. Even though she was only a few heads higher, everything seemed farther away, and she felt tall and adventurous.

“Indeed. At some point, we shall obtain an equine for you,” Puss said, gazing out at the countryside like a king surveying his kingdom.

“A horse requires feed, visits to the blacksmith, and tack. I thought you meant for us to travel without coin?”

“Perhaps you are right. We will wait until you acquire land to make such a purchase.”

“What?”

“Nothing. How far is Wied from your village?”

“It shouldn’t be too much farther. It strikes me as rather odd that the bandits camped so close to the village they ransacked.”

“I imagine they didn’t expect to run into anyone able to counter them so soon after the raiding. You said yourself that it takes time for the crown to dispatch soldiers and help.”

“I guess,” Gabrielle said. “So are you going to pretend you can’t talk?”

“In Wied? Why would I do that?”

“For secrecy?”

“You are being a clodpoll, Gabrielle. Low will be the day that I pose as a less intelligent being. Besides, you cannot expect the villagers to believe that an outrageously handsome cat with no special powers and one slip of a girl took on nine bandits.”

Gabrielle hugged the horse’s neck to shift and slid a little. “I should have expected your ego would never allow your good deeds to go unnoticed.”

“Hmph,” Puss said.

The two didn’t speak again until they paraded up to Wied.

Gabrielle’s estimation of the situation was correct. The reek of ash and cinders reached them before they could see any of the buildings, and plumes of smoke hovered in anxious clouds. When they rode closer, she could see that four stores had been burned, a number of doors were smashed or missing, and debris and ruined goods littered the street.

When Puss, Gabrielle, and their parade of animals trooped into the village, everyone stopped to stare.

They ended their animal procession the middle of the village, and a small crowd assembled around them.

Gabrielle shifted, uncomfortable with the attention and fixed stares. “I brought back your animals,” she said to her audience.

“I brought back your animals? Is that the best you can do?” Puss hissed before he leaped to sit on an ox’s broad back, scattering the chickens. “I beg your pardon, kind townsfolk, for my beautiful mistress is too humble to continue. I, Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth, shall explain matters plainly to you. My mistress—the dazzlingly beautiful Lady Gabrielle—and I encountered a group of the most dastardly bandits. Using my magic and the cunning of my mistress, we outsmarted the fiends and found their treasure trove. As my mistress has a generous, giving heart, we thought to return your plundered goods to aid you brave and valiant villagers of Wied. We bring you your animals, your treasures, and word of the deviants who have wreaked such villainy upon you.”

All was quiet for a moment, with the exception of the chickens who clucked and scratched in the ground. After several tense moments, the villagers broke into applause, startling their animals and filling the air with joyful cheers.

Gabrielle almost fell off the horse’s back as he danced a few steps and tossed his head. She was clinging to his neck when Puss jumped back on the gelding.

“And I didn’t even use the word hero,” he said, sounding smug.

“That’s because we’re
not
heroes,” Gabrielle said.

The villagers surged forward, reclaiming their animals and items with big smiles and hearty laughter. None of them blinked twice at a talking cat, nor did they seem to notice her great beauty. They were too overwhelmed and overjoyed.

Gabrielle slipped awkwardly off her mount’s back, staggering a few steps. She brushed horse hair from her skirts and looked around, expecting the horse’s owner to step forward from the mass. She was surprised when a tall, string bean of a woman stood next to her. “You’ll not find Glossy’s owner here,” she said. “He belongs to the constable, and he left this morning by mule-back to report our troubles to Castle Brandis.”

“I see,” Gabrielle said, glancing over at Puss—still seated on the horse’s rump. “Thank you.”

“My name is Lena. My husband, Jakob, and I run Green Ivy Inn,” the woman said, pointing to a homey, two-story building down the street. It was untouched by fire—although the front door was busted down. “It would please and honor us if you and your unusual cat stayed at the inn with us.”

“I couldn’t—” Gabrielle started, looking at Puss for help.

“I insist. The chickens you brought back belong to my family. We are much in your debt,” Lena said.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“Wied is a small village, my lady, but we are thankful and proud. It would be a sad day if we could offer nothing in return for your generous and brave deeds.”

“Really, it was—”

Lena ignored her protests and called her husband over. “Jakob. Would it not be natural for Lady Gabrielle and her gifted cat to stay with us?”

“I’m not a lady,” Gabrielle said and was still ignored.

Jakob was a short, bulldog of a man with a joyful, childlike smile. “That is a wonderful idea, my dear. Yes, I agree. You must stay with us, Lady Gabrielle—and don’t you even
think
about paying us even a copper. Wied owes you much,” Jakob said, shaking a thick finger.

“But, I—” Gabrielle said.

“What room shall she have?” Lena asked, verbally leading her husband on. “She
is
the village savior.”

“The ivy room, of course,” Jakob said, nodding sagely. “Only the best for such an honored guest.”

“Well chosen,” Lena said.

“I could never think to—” Gabrielle tried.

“But you will,” Lena said, which is how—less than twenty minutes later—Gabrielle found herself seated at a table in the Green Ivy Inn with a bowl of spaetzle stew and a plate of sweet rolls. She stared at the bowl before shifting her gaze to her feline companion, who was in the process of consuming a small plate of scrambled eggs. “How did this happen?” she asked.

“You lacked the spine to refuse an innkeeper and his wife. That is how,” Puss said, licking his chops.

“You make it sound so simple. That woman is a mountain cat,” Gabrielle hissed, glancing around the room. They were the only ones in the taproom, but Lena was back in the kitchen.

“Yes,” Puss agreed.

“And why didn’t you help me? You could have opposed her.”

Puss consumed more eggs. “Perhaps, but I
did
tell you we would require no coin to travel comfortably.”

“Puss, we
can’t
accept this. This village was just sacked by bandits!”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Roland Archibald Whisperpaws the Fifth. And thanks to you, all they have to show for their trouble is a few burned buildings and some heavy clean-up. You returned their animals and coin to them, Gabrielle. You said yourself it would save them much heartache,” Puss said.

“I know, but this feels wrong. We didn’t do enough to warrant this,” Gabrielle said as she took a spoonful of the stew. The spicy dish was decadent, and the spaetzle—dumpling-like egg noodles—fresh and tasty.

“Speak for yourself. You defeated two bandits. I took out seven.”

“Four. The two tipsy men and the one already sleeping don’t count,” she said.

“I still had to work my charm on them, didn’t I?”

“And I still had to tie them up.”

“Now who is so eager to trumpet her good deeds?”

Gabrielle propped her head upon her hand and stirred her stew with a frown.

“I don’t understand you. You were angry with your parents because they would not help you, but now you are steeped in guilt because the villagers are thankful,” Puss said.

“That is an unfair comparison. My parents are fine. The mill has been doing well, and we haven’t been attacked by bandits in years. Wied was ransacked last night. It’s not the same thing.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“No. I only see that you have a very defined and complicated sense of justice. If you insist on indulging in the feeling of guilt, go help them.” Puss finished the last of his eggs.

“What?” Gabrielle said, nibbling at her stew. Although it was delicious, it sat in her stomach like rocks.

Puss licked a paw and scrubbed at his face. “Go aid in the cleanup. There are several hours of daylight left, and the villagers are hard at work cleaning up the debris. Help them.”

Gabrielle scraped her wooden spoon on the bottom of her bowl. “Maybe I will.”