They had found room and board at an inn near the ship docks, and it had vastly fascinated Henry on the different attire in which the men and obviously the women had adorned themselves with; wearing some loose clothing by Bohemian standard and he even spotted some dock workers donning nothing more than their trousers as well as their footwear as they toiled with their work.
Despite the cultural differences and the odd environment, he would still ashamedly declare that he and Hans did peek on the buttocks on quite of a few on the scantily-clad exotic women because of their libido; how he and Hans ever managed to get away with that was something that he could not explain however, if they were caught then he would reckon that Hans' noble status would do little against stopping a punishment of flogging for their indecency and degeneracy.
But right now, he could care about none of that as he was currently concerned with another issue; Hans, for whatever reason, did not want to sleep in his room, they had gotten their rooms fairly cheaply and it was on his opinion, perfectly ordinary and fine, but his 'peasant' eyes but not be able to distinguish suitable accommodations with awful one's as Sir Hans did. Though if he had to sleep on an awful room or sleep on the streets or even a manger like the Blessed Mary did then he would pick the first without hesitation.
"I am not sleeping in this bed." Sir Hans vehemently protested.
"What do you mean you're not sleeping in that bed?" Henry questioned him, with Henry's own hands covering his face which was full of barely constrained frustration and fatigue.
"It might be full of lice or fleas and the like." Hans weakly gave his rather awful explanation.
"Are you kidding me- That's my problem, how?"
"Look. You can sleep all you want in that dirty bed of yours but I, as a nobleman, am not going to sleep in that lice-infested bed."
Henry breathed in, deeply, and then breathed out. "Fine. Sleep however you want for all I care. I'll sleep in my own room and you can sleep standing-up."
After their short and somewhat heated conversation, Henry retreated back into his rented room and slept in the possibly lice-and-flea infested bed. He unbuckled his sword from his waist, and went on to remove every piece of armor that he had from his Brigandine down to his hauberk. However, he did not remove his plate leg armor nor did he remove his gambeson. He as well as kept a dagger on his person; after all, there might be an intruder or a vagabond that might enter into his room unannounced and try and make off with his items.
Henry blew air into his cupped hands and rubbed it together due to the cold as it was somewhat surprising for him to find out that a harsh desert day would result in a colder desert night.
He sighed and sat down on his bed; all he wanted was to kill Istvan, kill Markvart, and kill Sigismund. How tough can that get? But it seems that God had personally shat down on his plans as there was possibly no way for him to reach even a single one of his targets with where he is now. By the time that he gets back to Bohemia, Father Godwin might've possibly started a religious war or even a crusade because he was inspired by what Jan Hus had preached about, either that or the Church has finally kicked Godwin out; either of which was just as likely as the other . . . now that he was thinking about it then he would further guess that Father Godwin might've potentially been burned at the stake by the time that they had returned. Anything's in the realm of possibility when it came to Father Godwin.
The confusing and rather awful day had finally caused Henry to collapse into his bed and sleep like a rock. He dreamt no dreams nor did he dream nightmares.
After they had woken up, they had wanted to—for the lack of better words, adventure; because it wasn't every day that they could get to visit a city such as this, and they had fully intended to make the most of their travel. Though Henry was constantly watching over Sir Hans, as was his duty, lest the man were to fool around with the women and sire a child which was something that he currently did not have the patience to handle that potential debacle.
Henry and Hans were currently navigating themselves throughout the cramped labyrinth of a city that was Sunspear; market places that Henry heard referred to as bazaars had cluttered the city; with each and every vendor seemed to be haggling with their customer with a fiery vigor and it seemed that if they weren't haggling or selling an item that they were calling out to any bystanders if they had wanted anything from their stall. All in all, it was very intimidating.
Henry bumped into a man and he said an apology, but his waist felt lighter, which could mean only one thing, "Thief! Get back here!"
He immediately ran after the pickpocket into one of the numerous alleyways within the city; with Hans tailing after him, the thief was clever enough to bring on obstacles upon them like hurling a basket or two or causing a traffic among the crowds. Though it had done little to stop him as he shoved past anyone who posed an obstacle, just so he could catch the damned robber. Henry was glad that his and Sir Hans' funds were divided with the latter holding the greater amount of coin, not that it really matters as he was not going to live with the embarrassment brought on by Sir Hans if others were to hear that he had been pickpocketed and lost silver.
He saw the robber try to scale the walls, jumping from one window to another, and he had to praise the man for his quick feets and nimble hands; but his silver was still held on by the man and he wasn't going to let that be and he picked up a rather sizable rock and threw it at the mans head which instantly caused him to lose his grip and fall back to the floor.
Henry grappled the man just as he came to, and he finally grabbed his pouch of silver back. But the damned thief would just not give up as he still tried to choke out Henry, not that it lead to any good defense as Henry pulled back and let out a punch from his armored gauntlet aimed at the mans head, which cause the perpetrator to go limp, whether he was dead or not was no longer Henry's problem. That was up to God, but he heard a the man breath so the Lord must've shown him mercy.
Hans caught up to him hiding a chuckle as he went to check on Henry, who was dusting himself off.
"Gods man!" He finally let out that chuckle, "You just got robbed at your second day here."
"Not one word." Henry warned. "Bastard nearly made off with my silver." He gave a kick to the pickpockets body and he dropped to his knees in exhaustion.
"Not just yet." An unknown and accented voice let out. "That was one of our own."
Hans and Henry looked behind them and saw three men covered with shawls and each gripping curved swords like those used by the Cumans, they were lightly armored as they only wore studded leather. One was fairly burly, the other two were fairly regular when it came to body size. Henry went forwards by three steps, his fingers lightly touching his longsword. Hans stepped back behind Henry.
"So? He stole our silver and paid the price, he'll live if you get him to a healer though." Henry tried to calmly explain. But the time for talking was over and the men pointed their swords towards Henry and Sir Hans. Henry and Hans quickly unsheathed their blade. This was dangerous, though they had certainly faced worse odds, they were outnumbered by just a man which could be enough for just one of them to lose their life.
Henry held his sword forward, though it had barely been half a year since he had first drawn blood; he did not give off any illusion that he was inexperienced, to the contrary as he held his sword like a seasoned swordsman. Hans held his sword aloft, a single succesful sweep from his blade was enough to fell one of the men.
Henry sidestepped as the burly man tried to lunge at him with his blade and give a quick step; Hans meanwhile faced off the other men, losing ground everytime his sword clashed with his opponents blades. Henry slit his foes knee with a fast thrust from his longsword then tried to slash the mans throat or at the very least the face but he only got to slash the mans studded leather which wasn't enough to put the man from the fight.
Hans managed to be lucky, as he managed to tap the neck of one of his opponent with his blade which managed to get the man to bleed from the neck but it wasn't enough to neutralize him. His succesful hit had put him at a disadvantage as his opponents enraged friend had now began to grapple at Hans which rendered Hans' sword useless. Hans was headbutted in the head, though his bascinet managed to get his foe to be the one to be damaged instead. Henry managed to slit his own opponents wrist then began to impale his opponents throat in quick succession, seeing Hans get grappled had Henry panic and he rushed in and placed two slashes at each of the remaining foes which managed to fell one but leave the other alive.
Henry sighed as he pointed the sword of his tip towards the remaining opponents throat, contemplating whether he should let the man live or die . . . but life was the gift of God and it was sacred so he let the man go on the condition that he get the pickpocket and himself to the healer. To which the man frantically nodded and abided by Henry's request.
Hans laughed as Henry checked him off for any damage to his person, which thankfully enough was none. Henry only had one thing to say to his friend, "I'm feeling quite hungry."
"You know what . . . Me too!" They laughed as they cleaned themselves off with a rag.
They ate some stew later on; though Henry had personally told the server to have him be served with stew that didn't have as much spices as they had regularly served their customers with, though when the stew had arrived, it was still just as spicy. By the time that midday had came, they had to return to their rented rooms to sleep. This time, Hans didn't complain about his living conditions as he slept soundly. After all, they had quite the adventure in store for them by tomorrow.
They managed to caught up with their ship, and they paid off their fee; though they nearly forgot their horses so they had to pay two hundred more groschen for the trouble and with the extra luggage.
Henry puked into the side of the ship for the eleventh time that day, his bowels were not entirely pleased with himself and the meal that he had eaten earlier were all for naught as he had also puked that as well; he did not entirely imagine that this would be how he would fare on his first trip in the sea. The sea stank of rotten eggs; and the constant motion of the ship were to blame in Henry's opinion.
Hans however, breathed in the open air. "Ahh. Maybe this is a gift from God rather than a curse. Isn't it, Henry?" Henry groaned. "Fresh air. With the world as our oister. It's like I have always said since we departed from Rattay, 'Audentes fortuna iuvat'. Imagine how our next destination would look! The women as well!"
"So long as pirates don't kill us first." Henry muttered, damn it; the bile was tasting awful and acidic on his mouth.
That's a wrap. I'll take any complaints to mind.
