Chapter 20
Henchmen
Lansius stepped inside the medieval manor house, his senses filled with awe. The Great Hall was immense and filled with long wooden tables and benches that may accommodate thirty or forty people with ease. The high ceiling made the air felt clean, not stale, dusty, or moldy.
At the hall’s far end, Lansius saw a raised platform, likely the high table where the host would sit. However, it was the big glass window upstairs that caught his attention the most, letting in warm, sunny light that filled the Great Hall with a gentle glow.
As a page-boy led him further into the manor, Lansius noticed a group of servants moving about their daily tasks, too preoccupied to take notice of him. Behind them, two guardsmen trailed them from a distance.
Soon, the page-boy escorted Lansius into an antechamber, a place where a guest could wait or rest. “The steward will be here- please make yourself, mm... comfortable,” he stammered. “Oh, there’s water in the basin and washcloth.” The page boy tried his hardest to deliver his line.
“Gratitude, I’ll be waiting here.” Lansius smiled and the page-boy hurriedly left.
Lansius saw the bench, a small table, and the stone basin.
Better to clean up.
Custom dictated the guest to wash their face and hands before meeting a respectable host, but Lansius wanted to go above and beyond to show that he wasn’t a country bumpkin. After all, he was Lord Arte’s squire. Disguised or not, he needed to keep a good appearance, not to tarnish his Lord’s name.
With that in mind, he changed out of his traveling clothes and into a deep blue doublet he had taken from Sabina Rustica. Although it was a little loose around the waist, he could easily fix that with his belt.
He wrapped the sword belt around his waist and suddenly felt nostalgic for his long-lost friend, but he quickly dismissed the sentiment. Today wasn’t the time to reminiscing about the past.
Just then, a servant knocked and entered before Lansius could reply. A young boy appeared and bowed deeply. “Maester, I’ll clean your boots.”
Lansius was taken aback. He had never had this treatment before. “Eh, um, what should I do?”
“Just stand there, maester,” the boy replied energetically as he scrubbed Lansius’ boots with a horsehair brush.
Lansius couldn’t help feeling uneasy about the child labor, but the boy looked happy, with chubby cheeks, clean clothes, and good manners.
He probably received education and a good job than most Arvenians… Probably also sleep in a comfortable bed.
Lansius briefly pondered about morality, but shook his head. He wasn’t here to judge.
The boy quietly left, closing the door behind him after finishing his task.
After enduring a grueling two-week journey by cart and foot, Lansius finally found himself alone in the waiting chamber. He let out a deep sigh as he lowered himself onto the bench, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling heavily upon him. With a tired hand, he took out his waterskin and took a long swig of water before settling in to wait.
...
As the sun began to set, the manor sprang to life with bustling activity. Lansius, now cleaned up and refreshed, could imagine that a feast was taking place in the Great Hall, as was customary for feudal nobles.
The lord of this manor may have been just a baronet, but it was clear to everyone who saw it that Toruna was a rich, fertile land. It beggared belief that someone who wasn’t a Baron could own such a grand estate. Meaning, either the baronet of Toruna was a rising star at Midlandia’s court, or old money.
A much older gentleman appeared at the door. “Excuse me, maester. The baronet requests your presence at dinner.”
Lansius rose from his seat. “Please, call me Lansius. I’m just a clerk turned squire.”
The old steward smiled warmly, but remained silent as he led Lansius up an elegant staircase and through a series of corridors that eventually brought them to a private dining hall. It was smaller and more intimate than the Great Hall, but no less impressive.
Though they were on the second floor, the ceiling was high and two beautiful chandeliers illuminated the space with an unflickering white light that was brighter than any candles Lansius had ever seen. The walls were plastered evenly and painted in bright color.
At this time of year, the room was furnished with colorful tapestries depicting scenes of battles and hunting. One in particular intrigued Lansius, a small green-colored tapestry that illustrated what looked like dwarves and their underground citadels.
Regrettably, he couldn’t approach the tapestry out of respect to his host. Nevertheless, he marveled at the room’s other features, including murals, painted statues, and two gorgeous suits of armor.
The steward gestured for Lansius to take a seat on the far end of a long, exquisite table. “The baronet will arrive shortly.”
Lansius sat and found the air pleasant, filled with the sweet scent of fresh flowers or fruit. Ironically, such a lovely place might hide a dangerous threat, like the lair of a dragon. He noticed two guards standing by the exit. From their demeanor and discipline, he could tell that they had proper training.
One piece of advice from his long-lost friend rang in Lansius’ head: be prepared not to go home when a noble summoned you.
Tonight, it’s either a comfy bed, or a dungeon...
There were stories of nobles summoning low born, only to accuse them of a crime they never did and throw them in the dungeon.
Why did I even bother showing up?
Before Lansius could get cold feet, the sound of marching footsteps outside announced the arrival of the master of the house.
Lansius stood and made sure not to gawk at his host as he entered. To his surprise, the baronet was an athletic man dressed in a red silk outfit.
Following the baronet were a lady in a dark gown and veil, as well as a squire and a page-boy.
“Just sit wherever you like,” the baronet said as he took his seat at the opposite end of the table.
The lady seemed bothered by Lansius’ presence and just stood there.
Why is she so tense? ... Don’t tell me I still smell, but I've already cleaned.
“Audrey, you’re not going to sit?” the baronet addressed her.
“I will not take part in this scheme,” the lady blurted out, catching everyone’s attention.
A scheme..?
Lansius gulped, his throat dry. Meanwhile, the baronet laughed at the lady's words and turned to his guest with a faint smile. "My name is Stan, and this lovely lady here is my lovely sister," he said, emphasizing the last two words in a peculiar way. "And you're here because the seneschal ordered me to invite you on his behalf."
The seneschal?… Lord Bengrieve!?
The stakes were getting higher, and the situation was spiraling out of control. “Sir, my apologies, but I’m just a clerk turned squire. I’m hardly important,” Lansius tried to reason.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s talk over dinner.” The baronet nodded at his steward, who signaled the servants to bring out the food.
But his sister refused to be ignored. “What does he have to do with this?” the lady demanded.
Lansius felt offended and his self-esteem took a dive.
“Audrey, you said you hardly know him,” the baronet said, as if patronizing her.
The lady clicked her tongue in protest and approached the baronet’s table hurriedly.
Lansius froze as he tried to make sense of what was going on. It was then that he realized the reason for the lady’s black dress and veil.
She’s in mourning! Oh fuck no... did she lose someone in Sabina Rustica?
Cold sweat ran down Lansius’ back. He could already taste the rotting dungeon, the stench of piss and decay.
The two bickered in private, leaving Lansius standing nervously as if waiting for his judgment. They were still at it when the three servants arrived with silver platters.
The servants brought a variety of appetizing dishes. Lansius spotted roasted meat, aromatic stews, sweet and tasty puddings, and an assortment of freshly baked bread. One of them also poured him a generous amount of pale ale in a beautiful silver goblet.
With his fate uncertain, Lansius decided to eat and drink as much as he could before rotting away in the dungeon.
“My guest!” the baronet yelled suddenly, making Lansius’ heart skip a beat. “We have reached a consensus.”
“Y-yes, my good sir,” Lansius steeled his heart as the baronet in red and the lady in black watched his every move.
“On behalf of Lord Bengrieve, I’m going to give lady Audrey to you,” the baronet guffawed and jumped from his seat. He was just in time as the lady swung her right fist at him.
“That’s not how it goes!” the lady yelled. Without warning, she snatched up a nearby jug of wine and hurled it at her brother, who flinched in surprise, but held his ground. He seemed to accept the splash, but before the wine could hit him, a gust of wind blew out of nowhere.
The baronet smirked in triumph as he saw the wine spray back onto the lady, drenching her like a cat caught in a downpour.
Magic!
Lansius stood frozen in shock, uncertain of what to do or say. He scanned the room slowly, taking in the scene around him. He had heard of mysterious individuals, known as magus, who wielded magical powers. If someone like Sir Stan could employ one, it meant that he held great influence despite his low rank.
The guards were laughing, and the servants were struggling to suppress their giggles, while the steward and squire appeared uninterested. However, Lansius could not spot any visible signs of the magus. He felt foolish; he had been expecting to see someone with a long beard, wielding a staff and wearing a pointy hat. In truth, he had no idea what a magus looked like.
“Fine,” the lady spat after her humiliation.
Sensing the tension in the air, the baronet attempted to defuse the situation. “Sister… let’s not draw steel, let’s be civil.” But when it didn’t seem to work, he added a gentle threat, “Or else I’ll have to confine you to your room… without alcohol.”
"Shut up! We're not related!" she snapped, her finger pointing sharply at Lansius. "Just hand him over to my command, and we'll call it even."
“Ehhh?” Lansius gasped.
"Are you going to hurt him?" Sir Stan asked playfully.
The lady merely grunted in response.
Upon hearing this, the baronet clapped his hands twice and exclaimed, "Deal!" before quickly adding, "Now, let's eat."
Merriment erupted on his command. The troubadour took center stage, playing a lively tune. The baronet, as if famished, dipped a pretzel into the stew and devoured it. Ironically, despite his command, only the lady in black and Lansius were joining him at the table. The other in the room were merely in waiting.
Meanwhile, Lansius repeated the words that had been echoing in his mind.
Did I hear that right? Hand me over... is this some kind of employment, but on what grounds?
The lady in black, after having some assistance from a maid, approached Lansius. “Eat,” she commanded rather emotionally.
“Y-yes, my lady,” Lansius greeted his possible new overlord, despite the many unanswered questions in his mind.
“I’ll meet you after,” the lady said, noting that she wasn't joining the diner, and after a few moments of thoughtful silence, “and Lans, it’s good to see you.” She turned to leave, her veil swishing behind her.
The use of the nickname and the way she said it made Lansius freeze. When he tried to steal a glance, the veiled woman had already left.
Chapter 20
Henchmen
Lansius stepped inside the medieval manor house, his senses filled with awe. The Great Hall was immense and filled with long wooden tables and benches that may accommodate thirty or forty people with ease. The high ceiling made the air felt clean, not stale, dusty, or moldy.
At the hall’s far end, Lansius saw a raised platform, likely the high table where the host would sit. However, it was the big glass window upstairs that caught his attention the most, letting in warm, sunny light that filled the Great Hall with a gentle glow.
As a page-boy led him further into the manor, Lansius noticed a group of servants moving about their daily tasks, too preoccupied to take notice of him. Behind them, two guardsmen trailed them from a distance.
Soon, the page-boy escorted Lansius into an antechamber, a place where a guest could wait or rest. “The steward will be here- please make yourself, mm... comfortable,” he stammered. “Oh, there’s water in the basin and washcloth.” The page boy tried his hardest to deliver his line.
“Gratitude, I’ll be waiting here.” Lansius smiled and the page-boy hurriedly left.
Lansius saw the bench, a small table, and the stone basin.
Better to clean up.
Custom dictated the guest to wash their face and hands before meeting a respectable host, but Lansius wanted to go above and beyond to show that he wasn’t a country bumpkin. After all, he was Lord Arte’s squire. Disguised or not, he needed to keep a good appearance, not to tarnish his Lord’s name.
With that in mind, he changed out of his traveling clothes and into a deep blue doublet he had taken from Sabina Rustica. Although it was a little loose around the waist, he could easily fix that with his belt.
He wrapped the sword belt around his waist and suddenly felt nostalgic for his long-lost friend, but he quickly dismissed the sentiment. Today wasn’t the time to reminiscing about the past.
Just then, a servant knocked and entered before Lansius could reply. A young boy appeared and bowed deeply. “Maester, I’ll clean your boots.”
Lansius was taken aback. He had never had this treatment before. “Eh, um, what should I do?”
“Just stand there, maester,” the boy replied energetically as he scrubbed Lansius’ boots with a horsehair brush.
Lansius couldn’t help feeling uneasy about the child labor, but the boy looked happy, with chubby cheeks, clean clothes, and good manners.
He probably received education and a good job than most Arvenians… Probably also sleep in a comfortable bed.
Lansius briefly pondered about morality, but shook his head. He wasn’t here to judge.
The boy quietly left, closing the door behind him after finishing his task.
After enduring a grueling two-week journey by cart and foot, Lansius finally found himself alone in the waiting chamber. He let out a deep sigh as he lowered himself onto the bench, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling heavily upon him. With a tired hand, he took out his waterskin and took a long swig of water before settling in to wait.
...
As the sun began to set, the manor sprang to life with bustling activity. Lansius, now cleaned up and refreshed, could imagine that a feast was taking place in the Great Hall, as was customary for feudal nobles.
The lord of this manor may have been just a baronet, but it was clear to everyone who saw it that Toruna was a rich, fertile land. It beggared belief that someone who wasn’t a Baron could own such a grand estate. Meaning, either the baronet of Toruna was a rising star at Midlandia’s court, or old money.
A much older gentleman appeared at the door. “Excuse me, maester. The baronet requests your presence at dinner.”
Lansius rose from his seat. “Please, call me Lansius. I’m just a clerk turned squire.”
The old steward smiled warmly, but remained silent as he led Lansius up an elegant staircase and through a series of corridors that eventually brought them to a private dining hall. It was smaller and more intimate than the Great Hall, but no less impressive.
Though they were on the second floor, the ceiling was high and two beautiful chandeliers illuminated the space with an unflickering white light that was brighter than any candles Lansius had ever seen. The walls were plastered evenly and painted in bright color.
At this time of year, the room was furnished with colorful tapestries depicting scenes of battles and hunting. One in particular intrigued Lansius, a small green-colored tapestry that illustrated what looked like dwarves and their underground citadels.
Regrettably, he couldn’t approach the tapestry out of respect to his host. Nevertheless, he marveled at the room’s other features, including murals, painted statues, and two gorgeous suits of armor.
The steward gestured for Lansius to take a seat on the far end of a long, exquisite table. “The baronet will arrive shortly.”
Lansius sat and found the air pleasant, filled with the sweet scent of fresh flowers or fruit. Ironically, such a lovely place might hide a dangerous threat, like the lair of a dragon. He noticed two guards standing by the exit. From their demeanor and discipline, he could tell that they had proper training.
One piece of advice from his long-lost friend rang in Lansius’ head: be prepared not to go home when a noble summoned you.
Tonight, it’s either a comfy bed, or a dungeon...
There were stories of nobles summoning low born, only to accuse them of a crime they never did and throw them in the dungeon.
Why did I even bother showing up?
Before Lansius could get cold feet, the sound of marching footsteps outside announced the arrival of the master of the house.
Lansius stood and made sure not to gawk at his host as he entered. To his surprise, the baronet was an athletic man dressed in a red silk outfit.
Following the baronet were a lady in a dark gown and veil, as well as a squire and a page-boy.
“Just sit wherever you like,” the baronet said as he took his seat at the opposite end of the table.
The lady seemed bothered by Lansius’ presence and just stood there.
Why is she so tense? ... Don’t tell me I still smell, but I've already cleaned.
“Audrey, you’re not going to sit?” the baronet addressed her.
“I will not take part in this scheme,” the lady blurted out, catching everyone’s attention.
A scheme..?
Lansius gulped, his throat dry. Meanwhile, the baronet laughed at the lady's words and turned to his guest with a faint smile. "My name is Stan, and this lovely lady here is my lovely sister," he said, emphasizing the last two words in a peculiar way. "And you're here because the seneschal ordered me to invite you on his behalf."
The seneschal?… Lord Bengrieve!?
The stakes were getting higher, and the situation was spiraling out of control. “Sir, my apologies, but I’m just a clerk turned squire. I’m hardly important,” Lansius tried to reason.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s talk over dinner.” The baronet nodded at his steward, who signaled the servants to bring out the food.
But his sister refused to be ignored. “What does he have to do with this?” the lady demanded.
Lansius felt offended and his self-esteem took a dive.
“Audrey, you said you hardly know him,” the baronet said, as if patronizing her.
The lady clicked her tongue in protest and approached the baronet’s table hurriedly.
Lansius froze as he tried to make sense of what was going on. It was then that he realized the reason for the lady’s black dress and veil.
She’s in mourning! Oh fuck no... did she lose someone in Sabina Rustica?
Cold sweat ran down Lansius’ back. He could already taste the rotting dungeon, the stench of piss and decay.
The two bickered in private, leaving Lansius standing nervously as if waiting for his judgment. They were still at it when the three servants arrived with silver platters.
The servants brought a variety of appetizing dishes. Lansius spotted roasted meat, aromatic stews, sweet and tasty puddings, and an assortment of freshly baked bread. One of them also poured him a generous amount of pale ale in a beautiful silver goblet.
With his fate uncertain, Lansius decided to eat and drink as much as he could before rotting away in the dungeon.
“My guest!” the baronet yelled suddenly, making Lansius’ heart skip a beat. “We have reached a consensus.”
“Y-yes, my good sir,” Lansius steeled his heart as the baronet in red and the lady in black watched his every move.
“On behalf of Lord Bengrieve, I’m going to give lady Audrey to you,” the baronet guffawed and jumped from his seat. He was just in time as the lady swung her right fist at him.
“That’s not how it goes!” the lady yelled. Without warning, she snatched up a nearby jug of wine and hurled it at her brother, who flinched in surprise, but held his ground. He seemed to accept the splash, but before the wine could hit him, a gust of wind blew out of nowhere.
The baronet smirked in triumph as he saw the wine spray back onto the lady, drenching her like a cat caught in a downpour.
Magic!
Lansius stood frozen in shock, uncertain of what to do or say. He scanned the room slowly, taking in the scene around him. He had heard of mysterious individuals, known as magus, who wielded magical powers. If someone like Sir Stan could employ one, it meant that he held great influence despite his low rank.
The guards were laughing, and the servants were struggling to suppress their giggles, while the steward and squire appeared uninterested. However, Lansius could not spot any visible signs of the magus. He felt foolish; he had been expecting to see someone with a long beard, wielding a staff and wearing a pointy hat. In truth, he had no idea what a magus looked like.
“Fine,” the lady spat after her humiliation.
Sensing the tension in the air, the baronet attempted to defuse the situation. “Sister… let’s not draw steel, let’s be civil.” But when it didn’t seem to work, he added a gentle threat, “Or else I’ll have to confine you to your room… without alcohol.”
"Shut up! We're not related!" she snapped, her finger pointing sharply at Lansius. "Just hand him over to my command, and we'll call it even."
“Ehhh?” Lansius gasped.
"Are you going to hurt him?" Sir Stan asked playfully.
The lady merely grunted in response.
Upon hearing this, the baronet clapped his hands twice and exclaimed, "Deal!" before quickly adding, "Now, let's eat."
Merriment erupted on his command. The troubadour took center stage, playing a lively tune. The baronet, as if famished, dipped a pretzel into the stew and devoured it. Ironically, despite his command, only the lady in black and Lansius were joining him at the table. The other in the room were merely in waiting.
Meanwhile, Lansius repeated the words that had been echoing in his mind.
Did I hear that right? Hand me over... is this some kind of employment, but on what grounds?
The lady in black, after having some assistance from a maid, approached Lansius. “Eat,” she commanded rather emotionally.
“Y-yes, my lady,” Lansius greeted his possible new overlord, despite the many unanswered questions in his mind.
“I’ll meet you after,” the lady said, noting that she wasn't joining the diner, and after a few moments of thoughtful silence, “and Lans, it’s good to see you.” She turned to leave, her veil swishing behind her.
The use of the nickname and the way she said it made Lansius freeze. When he tried to steal a glance, the veiled woman had already left.
