Owin #48 — Another old man

Gwen walked toward the manor house at the end of a gravel path. While the grounds were protected by a stone wall topped with iron spikes, the actual entrance to the property was not guarded beyond the presense of an iron gate.

The stone building reminded her of every large and overbearing building she had ever seen. It stood three stories tall in the center and had a wing on each side that rose a modest two stories.  However, the wings boasted walkways and perhaps open terraces on their roofs.

Windows covered every exterior wall and the stone work surrounding the expensive panes of glass included numerous carvings. Although she was still too far away to clearly see what they depicted, it was obvious the carvings were done with great detail.

The gardens around the house held some sense of minor neglect. Several sections appeared somewhat overgrown and others had a scattering of weeds, but the overall size and scale of the flowering plants still amazed Gwen. However, she could see at least four people working in the beds to restore order to the grounds.. And to think, Owin said this Duchess is not all that wealthy compared to the others.

Gwen turned her attention back to the house as the door opened before she could climb the wide steps and knock. “May I help you?” Said a young footman who had obviously been watching the path from inside the entrance hall.

Gwen bowed her head slightly to the man that might be three or four years her senior. His tightly trimmed brown hair touched the top of his ears and his dark green uniform showed no signs of wear. “I have a message for Lord Walis. It is of a personal nature,” she added as the footman’s hand started to extend toward her.

“My Lord is a busy man. You can trust that I will bring him the message.”

Gwen felt the condescension of the young man and did her best to keep her irritation from her voice. “It is a verbal message.”

She watched the footman frown. The young man hesitated for a moment and then straightened to add height. “Remain here. I will fetch the Steward.”

Gwen nodded her head, but the young man had already turned away. Looking past him as the door slowly swung closed, she could see a large entrance hall with marble floors and at least one grand staircase on the right. She felt the temptation to move to the top of the stairs and peek in through the windows, but instead took a moment to straighten her shirt and vest. Even though Owin had paid decent money for the clothing, she could tell the footman’s uniform had better quality in the crafting.

Several moments later, she heard the sound of hard soled shoes on stone and looked up once again as the door opened. This time an older man with grey-hair stood in the doorway. She returned his stare, looking at his wrinkled face and slightly sunken eyes. The apparent frailty of his form did not show in those eyes.

“I understand you have a verbal message for my Lord.”

“Yes, Sir,” Gwen said with as much baritone as she could muster.

She watched as the man pursed his lips. Finally he nodded his head. “Come inside.”

So far, so good, Gwen thought, keeping the smile from her face.  She quickly ascended the stairs and followed him into the middle of the entrance hall; the door slowly closing behind her. The room held even more grandeur than Gwen had imagined from what she had seen from the outside. The floor was not only marble, but inlaid with colored stone to form a geometric pattern. The ceiling stood three stories high and the windows that filled the outer wall allowed a lot of light to come inside.

Her appraisal of the room ended as the old Steward turned around suddenly in front of her. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“Sir,” Gwen said quickly. She knew her voice had squeaked. “I am Cator. I am just a messenger who was asked to deliver a private message to Lord Walis.”

The man stared at her for a moment and then took a step closer, lowering his head closer to hers. “You are a girl pretending to be a boy. Which means you are no messenger.  You—”

“I am protected,” she blurted out.  The expression that now filled the man’s face left her feeling exposed and worried.

After a moment, the old man straightened, but did not move away. “I ask you again, who are you and why are you here? What protections you have will not be enough if I decide you are an assassin. Convince me otherwise and you better do it in your next statement.”

Gwen glanced to the left and noticed two men who had been standing motionless a moment before. They were still over twenty feet from her, but the polished leather armor and the swords on their hips spoke of their purpose. She lowered her voice in the hopes it would not carry to the men. “Sir, I have come with a warning for Lord Walis. I am aware of a plot that he needs to hear about.” She glanced back at the guards and then to the old man again. “I would rather few people hear of it, but it could impact the Duchess.”

The Steward looked over her again, visually checking her sides. He reached out quickly and pulled her eating dagger from her belt before she could react. He looked at the blade and then moved his hand and the weapon behind his back. “Turn around. Are you carrying any other weapons?”

Gwen shook her head. Her breath had caught in her chest. She did not want to get stabbed in the back, but at the current moment, she knew she would be vulnerable regardless. Quickly, she turned in a circle so that he man could see she had no other visible weapons.

“Very well, we will go someplace slightly more private and you will continue to convince me of your merits. If you fail to do so, you will not like the consequences.”

Continue to next episode.