Owin #14 — I’m sorry

Owin looked out into the darkness that covered the back garden of Lord Darro’s estate. “Which way?” he quietly asked Gwen as he led her away from the house and the light that could potentially give them away.

“The wash tubs are near the south wall and on the other side of the hedges you’re heading towards. There are paths through it, but I don’t know them well. It might be better if we go to the tubs and avoid the hedges.”

Owin missed the easy understanding that he had with her father. However, she did show promise. “Tubs, then the gate,” he confirmed.

“Okay, we will have to cross through the trees, but they are spread far apart.”

Keeping her beside him, he hastened their pace. More windows in the house behind them were now illuminated with light. He expected to see runners heading toward the back gate soon. At least they will likely carry lamps and give us warning on their movement.

Having run through the dark before, Owin pulled on Gwen’s hand, moving her off a course that would have collided with a dark mass. He could only see vague shapes, but as long as the object’s size was neither too large or two small, the slight outline allowed him to avoid it.

Owin picked up a strong ammonia smell just as Gwen turned their path. “The tubs are ahead, but we can cut toward the gate now,” he heard her say.

As they passed through an opening in another hedge, the dim outlines of scattered trees filled the darkness ahead of them. However, Owin also caught the sight of a single lamp in the far distance. Are they already warned or is that just a normal light? He cursed the fact he never really scouted out the manor house. Initially he wanted to avoid getting caught and causing trouble for Gwen. Well, there’s enough trouble now.

Stopping, he pulled the stolen sword and dagger from their scabbards. Turning to Gwen, he handed her the sword. “I want you to stay behind me and out of sight of the guards. I’m in a tunic and should be able to approach closely, hopefully in the dark, they won’t notice you…” He frowned; her light-colored dress would show up behind him. “Just stay directly behind me and hold to the sword to your chest. When I put my hand back for it, pass it to me and step left to get clear.” She nodded her head and he hoped she understood he wanted quick access to swing the weapon. The dagger’s blade he concealed with his left shirtsleeve and the handle with his palm.

Picking up the pace again, he hurried toward the light. As he grew close, they crossed onto a gravel road for carts and changed their path to follow the road toward the gate. Even from a distance, he could see three men at the gate, illuminated in the lamp light. The wooden gate, wide enough for a full wagon, was closed, blocking their exit. Smiling, he noted the lamp hung from a pole set between him and the men. It is damn good for me they expect trouble from without instead of from within.

Slowing his pace to a more normal one, he tried not to agonize on the distance to the men; however, he wanted the sound of their feet to come at a calm cadence when the guards would hear them. Forcing his breathing to slow, he watched for anyone else to come out of the small structure when the others turned to the sound of their approach.

“Hope there won’t be no rain,” he said, raising his right hand in greeting as he first became significantly illuminated by the lamp, though he did not know if they could see him clearly through the bright light positioned not too far above their heads. “Keep your eyes to the ground,” he whispered over his shoulder to Gwen, hoping she would avoid looking at the lamp.

“What you about for?” one of the men asked. “We’ve got a couple more turns of the glass before shift.”

Owin nodded his head, but still kept his eyes away from the light. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted two of the men trying to shield their faces to get a better view of him.

“Bloody servant didn’t finish her work and was forced to stay late. My job to put her out the gate.”

One of the men chuckled. “Sounds like she deserves to get bent over my knee…she’s not old and ugly is she?” the obviously young man added, trying to peer into the dark and see Gwen behind Owin.

Owin noted the man on the far end of their line had remained too calm and had said too little. Moving more quickly, Owin hoped Gwen would keep up with him.

The older man seemed about to protest, as Owin moved passed the lamp. “Boy, I’ve got a story to tell you about what happened earlier tonight.” Using a big hand gesture with his right hand, Owin watched the man’s eyes follow his movement. With his left, he swung quickly, the pommel of the dagger sliding between his fingers and striking the man across the temple. The man, having noted Owin’s left hand move, tried to late to duck. Owin met the man’s move left with a solid punch in the gut and then a knee to the groin.

The two other men, stunned, finally sprung to action as the older man slipped to the ground. Owin sung his right hand behind himself, while he let the dagger’s blade slip clear of his left sleeve. Catching the crossbar, he rotated the weapon in his hand as Gwen placed the sword handle in his right.

Moving forward, he swung the sword around as the nearer man cleared his sword from its scabbard. Stepping inside the man’s reach, Owin chose not to slash the man, opting instead to punch him in the face, using the mass of the sword and point of the crossguard to increase the force.

Owin let out a curse, catching his pinky against the man’s teeth, but the man staggered backward, his nose broken.

The third man, his weapons drawn, hesitated, trying to decide if he should run or fight. These boys would never had done well in the war. Owin stepped aggressively forward, but the third man swung and advanced instead of retreating. Damn, he almost lured me in.

Owin heard Gwen moving behind him, from the sounds of the grunt, she kicked the older man. Knowing time was running out, Owin advanced, adjusting his approach to engage a skilled opponent. Using his dagger as an off-hand weapon, he defected the young man’s initial swing and brought the heavy sword his swung in under the young man’s guard, just catching the front of the boy’s belly.

Owin hoped the cringe of pain cross the man’s face would drive him away, but the young man, recovered and stepping closer to get inside Owin’s reach.  The boy, wielding only the sword, swung high, trying to use a small height advantage to get over Owin’s head, but Owin parried the blow with his own sword while he slid the dagger home into the man’s chest.

The young man stepped back, surprise filling his face.

“I’m sorry,” Owin said, “the way you advanced; I thought you were more skilled. You should have just run.”

Owin stepped away, pulling out the bloody dagger as the young man stumbled back and sank to his knees, his hands holding the deep wound in his chest. Owin knew the Lord would not pay for a guard’s healing. “I really am sorry.”

The second man, his face and hands covered in blood turned into the darkness and started to run away. In the distance, Owin noted lamps moving out of the hedge and into the wooded area. He turned back toward the first man and Gwen.

“You coming?” she asked, the small door in the gate already swung open. Her voice trembling just enough to show how scared she really was.

“Yes,” he said, tossing aside the bloody dagger and sheathing the sword as she disappear through the opening.

Continue to next episode.