The Bard Speaks by Montgomery Mahaffey Read Free Book Online Page B

rude. The thought of that fortune made his mouth water.
    Once the bounty was accepted, Ella Bandita formally became an outlaw. The lawmen announced she was to be brought to them alive.
    The Bounty Hunter started in early spring, at the start of fashionable seasons that would last through the summer. The Thief of Hearts would be on the prowl, but the Bounty Hunter was confident he’d find her within weeks. However, his prey proved more elusive. Months passed as he traced her haunts as he heard about them, scouring the country, following fresh tracks he believed would lead him to her. But she was always gone by the time he arrived. This infuriated him. Like most greedy people, the Bounty Hunter was miserly. He probably would have quit if he hadn’t gone through a small fortune of his own in his search for Ella Bandita. The lighter his purse became, the more his obsession grew. The fashionable seasons were coming to an end and he had spent almost everything he had. By the time he found his lead, he was bitter.
    Several days before, Ella Bandita struck in the last of a series of fashion towns, but the witnesses there gave the same answers they had everywhere else. The work was tedious and the Bounty Hunter was no closer to his mark. His frustration got the better of him and, one day, he ignored his afternoon appointments to run his mare through the woods.
    During his ride, he came to a bald spot in the trees. The undergrowth had been brushed away, leaving raw earth dotted with tufts of small green shoots. He pulled his horse to a stop and sniffed. He swore smoke still lingered in the air as he dismounted. Plowing the earth with one foot, he dragged the clearing until he found what he was looking for— bits of charred wood. Digging deeper, he found ashes mixed with larger pieces of wood where a fire pit had been buried. When he found a scrap of cloth, likely torn from a tent, he knew he had found her shelter. He scanned the site, imagining how it must have looked a month before when Ella Bandita made her camp there.
    The Bounty Hunter shook his head over the money he spent on lodgings where he assumed a lone woman would reside. What a fool he had been. Everybody he spoke with said she had the grubby look of a vagabond. He never considered the woods and if he had, he would have found her months ago. All the cities and villages she traveled had a forest beyond the town walls, usually just outside the gates. His heart pounded when he imagined the fortune that would be his now that he knew where to hunt.
    He found her two weeks later.
    Ella Bandita struck again in a small village at the edge of the ocean, an unusual choice for her. This place had not the amusements that attracted people of fashion. Those who came were drawn to this town for the repose of morning walks on the shore, afternoons spent reading or in relaxed conversation. Evenings found the cafes and bistros crowded with visitors enjoying the seafood that made the village famous.
    Her conquest wasn’t a gentleman on holiday, but the man who ruled there.
    His family had the patronage for generations, all of them brutal and unforgiving. If the villagers had the good fortune of a fair and honest Patron, they could have prospered. Recipes were passed down only through families in this village renowned for its cuisine. But the penalties were so high and easily given, it was impossible for anybody to earn their way out of debt and the last of their Patrons was the worst of them all.
    He committed his wife to a convent because she didn’t give him any heirs. He couldn’t divorce her, but that didn’t stop him from interfering in the courtship between two people in love. The girl got his attention with the deep flush to her cheeks and her rounded hips. She was the seventh born of ten and she looked just like her mother. When the Patron declared she was to be the mother of his children, her horrified distress and the anguish of her sweetheart didn’t move him in the least.