A Cow's Tail (of Valor)

[Silverbrook]

The halls of the Horses's Head were filled that Monday evening, the flicker of candles casting shadows of the townspeople of Jhelom on the walls. Before a group of the townsfolk stood Jharmel, one of the older, sturdier warriors who now earned a living training neophyte warriors who ventured to their island city.

"Why, tell me why you let that accursed idiot woman represent us!" Jharmel snarled to the unassuming townsfolk, spit collecting in his bushy beard as he spoke.

"Miss Beauvina?" Jherry piped up in a wheezing voice. He was a simple man, dressed in the garb of a farmer, as were most others at the Horse's Head.

"Of course! Who else? She is an embarrassment to the very NATURE... the very VIRTUE... of what we stand for! Ours is a land that stands for Valor, and you let this... this cow talking ninny to speak for US on the High Council!" Jharmel retorted, his anger only increasing.

An older gentlemen, meekly drining milk, raised his hand as if to ask permission to talk. Others turned to him, then back to Jharmel. Some were praying the hardened warrior would not snap the old man in two simply for asking to be heard. Seconds seemed like minutes as Jharmel stared at him coldly.

"Yes?" he barked to the old man. "Do you have something to say?"

"M'lady Beauvina helped us all when that wizard, Bhadghai, threatened us and our crops. She and her cows done run him out of this city when you ad your men were training on Serpent's Hold. There wuz no one here to help us, but she did!" the old man said, his hand shaking that glass of milk, though it was unknown if it was due to age or fear.

"Bah, he couldn't have been that strong! Cows? Preposterous," Jharmel replied. "We would have been back in a fortnight, anyways."

"But that's a long time," spoke up another citizen, this time a large, middle aged woman with very rough features. "Who knows what would have happened?"

A number of the people gathered nodded in agreement at her words. Jharmel balked, turning his head upwards in a display of contempt.

"Besides, her living here has been a boon to us!" she continued. "We are never short of milk..."

"She brings me hay every day to eat," another farmer continued over the woman. "I can't eat hay, but I can sell it to buy real food to feed my family at the market."

"Miss Beauvina brought me a friend... a cow friend, ah course, to have from Delucia after my wife died," said a rail thin, older gentleman, his bushy eyebrows curling around to almost his forehead. "Its become my best friend. It even moos when strangers come to my house. It's kinda like a dog. Best trained animal ever, oddly. I call her Cowlotta."

"We constantly have fertilizer for our crops!" chimed in a young boy who was serving ale for the tavern. "My pop says he's never had such a great field!"

"What does ANY of this have to do with her being a joke on the High Council? What does ANY of this have to do with Valor?" Jharmel barked once again to the assembled farmers and townsfolk. "Shouldn't we have someone on there representing the best of us?"

"Excuse me..." a voice beckoned from a small table in the corner. It was a robed, hooded figure, although obviously female. "I may not be from Jhelom, but your plight has me intrigued. If I may...?"

Jharmel snorted. He could tell by her accent she was not from Jhelom itself. By the outline of the robe he could tell she did not have the build of a warrior. She was most likely not a merchant, either. They typically were not en masse upon the island city at this late in the night. Most had set sail for their respective homes already. Still, something piqued his interest.

"Somethin' to add, I take it?" he asked, crossing his arms and staring at her from across the room.

"Valor is the display of personal bravery... or, as in the days of Lord British: 'Valor is the courage to take actions in support of one's convictions.' You have a woman who fights alongside great warriors and sorcerers with nothing... nothing at all... but a herd of cows. She puts her own life at risk in order to uphold her own convictions and faith in the people of Britannia. You were aware that she even, at one time, associated with the forces of evil just to get information for the Britannian Armed Forces, putting her life at risk?" the woman said in calm, almost melodic tones. "She even chose to support Jhelom when she was asked by your farmers in order to make it viable, and visible, to the High Council."

The hooded woman paused for a moment. "You may question her intellect, or even her sanity... but I would dare not question her resolve, strength of character or, indeed, Valor. I have seen her fight alongside allies that many would say dwarf her in skill or ability... but yet she continues to persevere against her challenges. And that, to me, is indeed what Valor is composed of."

Jharmel thought about her words, unfolding his arms and standing there, briefly, mute. The crowds eyes went to him, waiting for his reaction.

"You... may have a point," Jharmel responded, gruffly. The audience breathed a sigh of collected relief. Under the hood, the woman's lips flashed a soft, slight smile.

"We all have something to contribute, something to give, if only offered a chance," the woman said, standing up as she placed a few coins on the table for the tavernkeeper. "I only ask that you always look for the best in people... as you can see, Lady Beauvina's presence does contribute to a better vision of your city, in Truth. Listen to your famers. Listen to your people... listen to their stories," the woman added, beginning to reach the door. "Valor, and most Virtues, are found in the most amazing of places."

With that, the woman exited the tavern. The cold, biting breeze of Jhelom's fall hit her skin, though it did not affect her as it would many others. Inside the tavern, most fell quiet to more reflective study, including Jharmel. He lived by his sword, in what he always considered the path of Valor... the life of a true warrior. It seemed foreign to think otherwise, but perhaps the strange woman had a point. Something to ponder.

Outside, the woman stopped a young lass who was refueling a lantern. "I apologize profusely to bother you, but which way is it to Lady Bauvina's home?"

The lass pointed to the south. "She lives in that ol' shack near the cow pens. You need me ta take you there?"

The woman shook her head. "No, no... thank you, however."

As the woman left the lass to tend to the lantern, she walked down the dirt path with a slight smile on her face. She drew back her hood, revealing the dark features of one born to Nujel'm... it was Lady Silverbrook, current resident of Magincia. She was pleased that she had been invited by Beauvina to meet her after the High Council meeting at her home. She wished to discuss an event for Jhelom based around a strange creature allegedly only known as 'The Great Bovine'. Silverbrook was even more pleased that she had arrived early, and was able to see some of the city in which this very unique... many would call 'eccentric' woman now called home. A curious thing, she thought. Bemused, she continued onward...