Pete Snard was a personable young man, friendly even while The Green Bean, a week after the night at the inn, delivered him to the Tinytown dungeons. Pete was very kind to Lyman. He never complained of the uncomfortable bindings securing his hands, or the bumpy, jolting ride, or the stale bread he was given to eat. He never even denied the crimes he had been accused of, though anyone could have seen it was impossible for Pete to have stolen or killed. Lyman saw it too, and hated to think of what he was doing to this poor, innocent man. However, a job was a job, and the reward was rather handsome. 

“Well, Pete. We’re here.” The horse pulled up at the Tinytown prison, a small, humble affair as it was. Pete Snard tried to look cheerful, but felt terribly downcast, as well he might. It was a long story, but in short, Pete had been stripped of everything and accused of several crimes he did not commit.  

Lyman felt just as bad. His conscience was rebelling at the mere idea of delivering this man to prison. 

As the guard led Pete inside the building, Lyman hesitated, then threw his hands up in the air and bolted after them. His temper was up. He pulled Pete away from the guard, hurled the guard into an open cell, locked the poor man up, threw the key ring out the window, and dragged Pete out of the place. Pete looked rather ill. 

“What are you doing sir? Aren’t you taking me to prison?”

“No. I can’t do that. Here.” Lyman gave Pete his food pack and gestured to his horse. 

“Go, quickly. Ride to the castle. I’m absolutely sure they’ll proclaim you innocent if they can only get a look at you. Go now, on my horse.” 

Pete began to protest, but finally consented, and lived on happily ever after.

THE END

Just kidding! 

Lyman walked off, satisfied with himself. He had saved the man’s life, and now he could focus all of his attention on the mysterious case the soldier had hired him for. Rarely had he received so little information about his prey, and he was concerned about what to do. All he knew was that she had brown hair and had been seen in Wigginsvin. And that didn’t help much. He was sure there were hundreds of brown-haired women in Wigginsvin. 

However, he needed a horse. 

As you have probably gathered by know, Lyman had his faults: He always had holes in his socks, he was allergic to potatoes, he acted without thinking, and he had a dreadful temper.

 It was true, he could be very cruel at times, when his temper mastered him, and many people had mixed feelings about Lyman for that very reason. You are certainly allowed to form your own opinion of him, and regardless of what anyone thought or thinks, the facts are still true. As a boy, he had acted much the same, but taking out his rage in different ways. For example, six-year-old Lyman couldn’t rip a man-sized door from it’s hinges and hurl it ten feet across a room. However, six-year-old Lyman could rip the tiny wooden door from his sister’s dollhouse, and throw it under the couch. 

Anyhow, Lyman needed a horse, so turned around and stole one from the prison. Really, the security wasn’t very good in those days. Lyman simply marinated the lazy guard in the horse trough full of slops, and rode off on the finest speckled Andalusian mare.

It was at last morning. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, and she began to get out of bed. She screamed, and opened her eyes wider, stopping herself just in time from falling out of the large tree she was in. She hadn’t remembered where she was. She wasn’t in the little house where she had a job, she wasn’t lying curled up on her straw mattress. No. She was awkwardly perched in a large oak tree, one leg dangling. Her breathing slowed, and she gathered her wits best she could. She climbed down the tree, letting herself drop the last few feet.

The Wigginsvin woods were absolutely still. No cheerful bird song rang out, and no chattering squirrels could be seen. 

The woman retied her apron in a neat bow, and walked through the forest, weaving around tall, stately trees, and small gangly saplings.

 The way the kingdom borders were, Wigginsvin was the least wooded town in Fidledom, having only a short strip of forest, before ending. Beyond the forest was Urickh, the neighboring town. Urickh was a large town, and soon, after an hour of hiking, the woman reached it.