Here is a flash fiction piece I did for a contest. The prompt was “fairy tale”, “gold coin”, “soldiers”. These three elements had to be included in the story. Enjoy!

Esthard and Angle trudged along the ridge of the hill, barely a road, hoping for an inn, or even a dwarf burrow to beg a night’s rest in. The wars of Provincia were over for the two of them. Esthard had taken a poisoned dart in the calf and although a healer had spelled out the worst of it, Esthard had a bad limp. Angle had been in the front line of a dragon’s curse that had laid a hundred warriors flat. He’d crawled back behind the lines, but was not the same. He had a difficult time stringing two thoughts together and was lucky to have Esthard as a companion.

The track they walked took a dip and a turn to the right, then as if reading their thoughts, a neat cottage and barn appeared. Behind were trellises of beans and rows of corn.

“Why it’s a wee farm, just like my ole gran keeps!” Esthard said.

Angle tried to look as pleased as his friend, but his heart was not in it.

“Let’s try for a place in the barn for the night.” It was Esthard, of course. That thought was beyond Angle’s muddled brain.

No one was at home, nor in the field, orchard or garden. It was strange, for everything was right tidy and ordered, as a place could be.

“Let’s chance it,” said Esthard. “If someone comes, we’ll offer to do chores in recompense.”

So, it was settled and Angle needn’t say a word.

Esthard decided they might as well stay in the house and use the soft beds. Why not, if they were going begging for a body to fill them. Why not?

They ate of the farmer’s food, drank of the cow’s sweet milk and soaked their tired feet in the farmer’s duck pond.

The farm had a calming quality, even Angle could feel it. Yet, he could only nod as Esthard pointed out this and that, which reminded him of home and hearth.  Angle had lost the ability or perhaps the will to speak.  As night closed in, the companions took seats inside by the fire. The scent of blooming lavender in the dooryard wafted in on the night breeze and the peat fire brought that particular flavor of home.

“I can’t wait to see my kin,” Esthard sighed. “I’ve been too long away. It’s a great thing that your path and mine have gone on together for so many miles, for it’s a sorry road walked alone, I always say.”

Angle stared at the flames. In truth he did not know where his home was. He hoped that as they walked, something would come back to him, but he recalled nothing before the black spell spewed by that noxious lizard with wings.  If they reached Esthard’s home before he recalled himself, he didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m just glad to be away from the wars. I don’t give a buzzard’s rump about it all now. They’ve gone far enough south. Should be no more trouble up here.  All them war machines and dragons and horrible trollish men. It makes me shudder. We’ve driven em’ back and that’s what counts.”

Angle nodded, but he wasn’t sure he agreed. He thought there was still a problem. Something to do with magic. It hurt his head to think on it.

They slept well and ate a hearty breakfast. No farmer showed his face, even when Esthard went outside and shouted, in case the family was hiding from them, fearsome as he and Angle appeared, just come from the fighting.

“I think we should tarry another night, just to be full rested,” Esthard announced. “I feel cut very low by the enemy and his cunning. Many were saying that even though we’d driven them out, they remain, unseen, but still plying their tricks and taking good men off to serve their evil purposes.”

Angle strained his throat to speak. He felt he must speak, although he could not form the words nor did know what to say.

“Did you speak?” asked Esthard. “Sorry, but I thought you made a sound.”

Angle sagged and did not look at his friend.

The second night went much as the first. In the morning, Esthard begged that they stay one last night, “Good healing this farm has, for body and soul.” He needn’t have begged Angle, who silently agreed.

On the third morning it was clear they must move on, or at least it was clear to Esthard who was feeling a bit ashamed at having eaten the farmer’s vegetables, drunk down his ale barrel, feasted on a chicken, and inadvertently broken a crockery pitcher.

They packed their sacks and prepared to leave. Esthard was in the dooryard proclaiming it a grand day for a hike and predicting how many miles they might travel.  Angle shuffled about inside straightening up before they took to the road. On the sideboard Angle spied a piece of paper, held down by a gold coin. He was sure it had not been there before. The paper read thusly:

Leave a gold coin for your lodging and go in peace from this place.

Angle put the paper and the coin back. It was confusing. Had Esthard put the coin there? Angle picked up his pack and walked outside.

“Merry morning! Very Merry!” Esthard was saying. “Let’s get a leg on, shall we?”

Angle reached for Esthard’s jacket sleeve. He should ask Esthard about the paper, but as his fingers touched the cloth, he forgot why he had done it. His hand drooped to his side and Angle knew something was amiss. But what?

The companions started down the track to the road, Esthard humming a tune, Angle plodding behind, as the sense of doom made each step come slower and heavier. Esthard stepped through the gate and one step off the farm was all that was needed. The trollish men rose up in a circle around him, ringing him in. Esthard yelled curses at them, but the largest stood up to him.

“You did not leave a gold coin.  The last man did, and we were obliged to let him pass. But our master gives us full leave to take those who do not pay.”

Esthard raged that he knew nothing about payments, and that beasts like themselves were banished to the south and they should go there before someone caught them. He continued in this vein until the leader muttered the curse that froze Esthard in mid rant.

Angle stood rooted as they led Esthard away. The curse had not worked on Angle. He didn’t know why. Perhaps his brain was too far gone. Perhaps it was because he was still inside the gate. Angle waited, but nothing more happened.

He turned and walked back to the enchanted farm.  It was as good a place as any to stop.