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THE UNWILLING

Everything was normal for Fred until the old man showed up. Fred was a fine lad with his dark brown hair, fair complexion and dark eyes. He was also a serf by occupation and title, and that left him with little other choice but to labor on Lord Damskov's estate. Fred hadn't been born a serf, though. He was a freedman until his parents died when he was ten, and they left their debt to the lord unpaid. By law he was forced into the servitude of the debt owner, and there he remained for several years. The first ten years of freedom had given him an independent streak, but he kept his mouth shut to keep the peace. Days slipped into weeks, and then months, and still he continued to live and work on his lord's manor. Now he was a young man of fifteen, and still chained to the estate. That is, until the old man came and wrecked his life. The day started out as many others had before it. The sun rose and he along with it, and Fred had trudged out into the plots assigned for him to manage. There were several acres of crops to weed and water, and after that work was done he could manage his own little plot of dirt used to grow his own food. If Fred left the supply of food up to his lord then he would have died of starvation. Beyond his fields stretched miles and miles of farmland that traveled over the rolling hills, interrupted only by sparse clumps of trees and bushes, and the occasional manor. A river ran close to the manor on which he lived and wound its way west toward a town he knew existed but had never seen. He didn't have any curiosity to see it, either; he was far too busy tending his small patches of rocks and weeds. Fred was just setting to work when the old man came walking close by on the wide dirt path that led from the main road to the manor house. The boy was interested in this stranger, for strangers were a rare sight. Even more rare was such a stranger as this, what with his ragged brown cloak draped over his shoulders. The ends dragged along the ground behind him and covered any footprints he left in the dust. There was also the white, unkept hair which trailed down over the old man's shoulders and draped over the front and back of the cloak. He had wisps of white hair over his head, but his eyes were well-covered by a pair of bushy gray eyebrows and he had a long, white beard that stretched down to his waist. The old man carried a staff in his hand, but though his pace was slow and feeble he didn't lean his weight against it. Fred was startled when the stranger lifted his head and turned those old eyes on him. They were a bright blue, brighter than the clear sky above them, and held an energy which wasn't seen in his step. The old man tottered over to Fred and looked the lad up and down. A small smile graced his mustached lips, and he nodded his head. "Can such a fine lad as yourself tell me where I might find the nearest town?" the old man asked him. Fred shook his head. "I haven't been farther from this manor than a mile, and the town is somewhere beyond that to the west." "Can you help me find it? I am old and haven't much strength to be wandering over all these winding roads," the stranger requested. "I can't. I'm not allowed to leave the manor without permission from my lord." Fred dared not disobey his lord's laws. The stranger pulled at his beard, and the smile remained on his lips. "I see. Well, I suppose you wouldn't want to disobey your lord for a short adventure."

Femirate · Politique et sciences sociales
Pas assez d’évaluations
51 Chs

CHAPTER 10

They ate their fill, and when they returned to their bedroom hallway Ned stopped and nodded toward Pat's room. "Perhaps you should tell our friends that the way is safe for Ruth to return to her father," he reminded the boy.

Fred sighed and shuffled off to Pat's room. He reached the door and quietly knocked on the entrance. "Who is it?" Pat called out.

"It's Fred, can I come in?" he whispered.

He heard noises and in a few moments the door swung open. Pat grabbed Fred by the collar and dragged him inside. He tripped on the stone tiles and fell hard on his butt while she shut the door behind him. Fred rubbed his derriere and scowled at her. "What did you do that for?" he complained.

Pat quickly knelt beside him and clapped her hand over his mouth. She put a finger to her lips and her eyes darted over to the door. Fred stiffened and listened, but he didn't hear anything and tore her hand from his mouth. "I don't hear anything," he told her.

He expected their usual banter, but she only furrowed her brow. "Did you see anyone out there?" Fred shook his head. "Someone walked along the hallway a few minutes ago, and stopped at our door."

Fred looked around the room and was relieved to see Ruth seated on the bed. She was in her human form and Pat had given her a clean dress to wear. "Did it sound like a man or a woman?" Fred asked Pat.

She pursed her lips together and shook her head. "I couldn't tell, but they tried the knob. Fortunately for us I had locked it for it discouraged them enough to leave."

Fred got a chill from her story, but he had a reason for coming to the room. "Ned and I were just down at the kitchen. There's nobody there now, so if you two are ready we can take Ruth to her father."

"We're ready. Come on, Ruth," Pat softly commanded.

Pat took Ruth's hands and looked expectantly at Fred. He blinked. "What?" he asked them.

Pat sighed and rolled her eyes. "Lead the way," she told him in an exasperated tone.

Fred cringed. "Why me?"

"Because if something goes wrong I don't want you holding that staff behind me," she replied.

The boy's face drooped, but after what happened in the kitchen he couldn't blame her. Fred peeked his head out the door and saw the hall was empty. He led the pair down the stairs, but they made it only as far as the entrance hall when a voice spoke up from the shadows. "Good evening, Lady Lamakin."

All three of them jumped and their heads snapped toward one of the tall columns. Percy stepped out of the shadows with a smooth smile on his face. Pat clutched at her heart and handed Ruth's hand to Fred. "You startled us, Percy," she scolded.

"And why would I do that? Surely you're not sneaking around the castle this late at night to cause mischief?" he teased.

Pat blushed and glanced back at her companions. Fred rolled his eyes, and Ruth glanced nervously between them. "Well, no, we're just, well, just out for a snack. We missed dinner enjoying the fireworks."

Percy raised his eyebrows. "Oh? I hope you weren't caught up in the chaos outside."

Pat laughed a little too loudly, and shook her head. "Oh no, of course not. We try to avoid such trouble."

The young man smiled. Fred didn't like that smile. "I seem to recall you had quite a bit of trouble with the assassin Deadly Sins while you stayed at Tramadore."

The girl waved off his words. "Oh, yes, that. I'm sure he made a mistake and attacked the wrong room."

Percy's good humor slipped and he dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'm afraid I may have some information that would say otherwise." Pat flinched and frowned at him, but he shook his head. "I can't say any more, not here, but I would worry about your stay here."

"Worry about what?" she asked him.

"About whom," he corrected her. Percy glanced up at the balconies, and though he saw no one he ushered them into the passage that led to the kitchen. "King Stephen invited my father and me here to attend your coronation as the captain of his guard, but I fear my father my have other, less sincere intentions for coming here. He speaks of an errand we are to perform here, but will not confide in me the details."

Fred wasn't surprised, but Pat was aghast. "But what could he want here?"

Percy shook his head. "I do not know, but I noticed my father outside your door a few minutes ago. He seemed interested in entering, but when he found his way barred he left."

Pat paled. "What could this mean?"

"I wish I could answer that for you, Lady Lamakin, but I have only questions myself," Percy replied. There was a noise above them and he ducked behind the passage wall. Footsteps moved along the balcony and down the stairs to the landing in front of the throne room. Percy frowned.

"Who is it?" Pat asked him.

"That strange woman who King Stephen consults so often," he informed her. "What could she be doing here?" Lady Martley slipped into the throne room and closed the door behind her. Percy whipped his head around to his companions. "Perhaps you had better forsake your stomachs and return to your rooms."

"We'll be sure to grab only what we need and return to our rooms," Pat promised. "Thank you for the warning about your father, though I hope it proves to be false."

Percy grimly smiled and bowed at the waist. "I am forever at your service, Lady Lamakin."

Pat smiled back and pushed her companions down the hall. Percy slipped out of the hall and upstairs, though he paused at the throne doors and frowned. Not a sound drifted out of the throne room, and he hurried on.

As for the three companions, they rushed into the abandoned kitchen, pried open the hatch and slipped down into the tunnel. Ruth reverted back to her gargoyle form to avoid complicated questions. Fred led the way with his lit staff, but the farther they traveled the slower he walked until Pat, who walked behind him, prodded his back. "Why are you so slow?" she questioned him.

"I was just wondering how mad Sampson might be when he sees us with Ruth," Fred pointed out.

Pat thought over his words and paled. "You mean you worry he might blame us for her disappearance?"

"But that isn't true!" Ruth insisted.

"If it had been true I would have killed them both where they stand now, castor or no castor," a voice spoke up. Fred and Pat screamed and jumped into each other's arms when a figure dropped from a near-invisible hole in the ceiling of the tunnel. In the staff's light Sampson arose from his landing and scowled past them at his daughter. "We heard the city in chaos and smelled the smoke. What have you done?"

Ruth cringed back. "I-I'm sorry, father, I only meant to see the fireworks."

He shook his head. "That is not a reason for leaving and endangering all of us."Sampson nodded over his shoulder. "Return to the cavern. I will deal with your punishment later."

Ruth blushed and shook her head. "I can't, father. I owe these two a life-debt."

Sampson stiffened, and his fists clenched at his sides. He whipped his eyes over to the two humans, who nervously grinned back. "Is this true?"

Pat stepped forward. "It's true that we saved her life, but she doesn't owe us-"

"By our custom she owes you a life-debt," Sampson insisted. "Only through dishonor or fulfillment can the debt be wiped clean, and I will not have her dishonor us further by forsaking her duty."

Pat and Fred's shoulders slumped; they hoped for another outcome than the stress of a gargoyle on their hands. Ruth was too ashamed to do much more than bow her head. "I will do as you command me, father, but I will make you proud."

Sampson sighed and looked over his daughter. "It would have been well that you could fly, but I fear you must learn under your servitude."

Pat frowned and held up her hands. "Wait a moment. I won't have her be a servant to me."

"But that is my debt to you, and what other disguise can I use?" Ruth pointed out.

Sampson uneasily shifted on his feet. "Disguise is indeed a problem. Your oath risks us again as surely as your wish to see the fireworks. You cannot hide what you are from the eyes of the humans."

Ruth smirked and rubbed the trinket around her neck. She morphed into her human disguise, and her father's eyes bulged. "This necklace was given to me by a castor named Ned to protect me from the humans," she told him.

Sampson blinked. "Ned?"

Fred saw the name wasn't familiar to him. "He used to use the name Edwin," the boy recalled.

"Edwin still lives, and he is with you?" he asked the humans. They nodded, and the pair could see there was relief in his eyes. "That is well. Unless he is greatly changed, Edwin is a valuable ally, and I am glad to hear he is still alive after so long."

"Then I have your permission to go with them and fulfill my debt?" Ruth asked him.

Sampson gave a nod. "Yes, I give my blessing."

Ruth beamed at the honor, and Fred wasn't sure to be merry or wonder what new trouble they were given. Pat rubbed her temple and sighed. She had a new lady-in-waiting to deal with.