Thaddeus Nowak's Blog: Thoughts and Observations, page 18

Owin #24 — A visitor

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

The work in the Ingle’s fields left Gwen sore and exhausted. Owin fared better, but still ended up with blisters on his hands. Dinner had been generous in size and based on their hunger, completely delicious.

“I’m not saying I would want to do this long-term, but the food’s good,” Gwen said, as she tried to make a comfortable spot in the hay so she could sleep. “The trouble is, I had to use the chamber pot the whole day, but good old Ben simply dropped his pants and went. Not something I’ll get away with.”

Owin nodded his head. That remained a limitation of the disguise over an extended period of time. It would not cause trouble for shorter encounters, but that was not their situation. “I hate to say it, but for now, you’ll have to just deal with it and find chances to sneak away.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

Owin rolled his head to ease the ache in his neck.  At the same time, he looked about the barn for something he could put down over the hay. The handful of empty burlap bags in the corner looked too dirty for his comfort. About ready to declare defeat, he paused as a shadow of someone moving outside the building was just discernible through the gaps between the boards of the barn.

“What do you think we’ll get for breakfast?” Gwen asked from where she lay, her left shoe in her hand.

“Not sure,” Owin said, drawing a dagger and keeping it behind his back; the man outside did not move like Ben.

“Hey, Owin, I know you saw me.”

Owin narrowed his eyes trying to place the voice. It sounded like a young man, but a name to did not come to his memory. “Who’s Owin?” Owin called back, not wanting to so easily break his cover of going by Orlan if he could manage it.

The side door to the barn opened and a red-haired man stepped inside. His tunic did not hide the tells of leather armor under the cotton cloth. However, Owin did recognize the face, if not the color of his hair. “Denton. What are you doing here?”  More annoyance filled his voice than he intended.

The athletic man closed the door behind himself and moved three paces closer. “I saw you head out of the city and wondered where you were going. The girl with you drew my attention.”

“I’m a boy,” Gwen said in a non-convincing attempt to sound masculine.

“So you are dressed,” Denton said to Gwen, but your mind has a feminine feel.

Gwen’s mouth dropped open, but the statement did not surprise Owin. “Denton, what are you doing here?”

“I had heard you left the Duke’s service,” the man said, adjusting his brown tunic so that it hung evenly. “Is it true?”

Owin nodded his head. “I do not work for the Duke. I know you don’t either, since there is a price on your head.”

Denton smiled. “And I doubt at the moment you are interested in turning me in for that. Seeing as I heard there is a price on your head as well.” He glanced to Gwen. “And the girl’s.”

“What do you want?” Owin demanded, again, not really wanting to know. He could not bring himself to put his dagger away, though he knew it would do no good against this man.

“There is war coming. The last time we were together, I sensed you did not care to see such things.”

“There is little I can do about it.”

Denton smiled. “That my friend is where you are wrong.” The man looked behind himself and sat down on a wooden crate. “Sit and let me explain.”

Owin bit his lip. Gwen still sat in the hay, confusion on her face. He feared Denton would regale them with tales of the past; things he did not want her to hear. However, I doubt I can stop it now.

Owin reluctantly sat on the edge of a plow. “I’ve retired.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re still good at what you do. And what needs to happen is an assassin needs to die. The trouble is, you don’t have much time and I don’t know who the assassin is. Only who the target is.” When Owin did not interrupt, Denton continued. “I need to put you on a ship to Solva immediately so you can stop the assassination of the Uvarian ambassador. The assassin is supposed to also kill a Lord Nathaniel, who is a cousin of Duke Henry.  The death is to happen while the two are meeting to discuss a trade alliance.  I have it on good authority that evidence is to be planted that Duchess Emilia, the main thorn in Duke Ravigar’s side, ordered the killing to block the trade alliance. If it happens, then Emilia will lose favor with the other Dukes and Duke Ravigar will have a shot at the crown.”

“How do you expect me to stop this?” Owin shook his head. “I managed to get free of Ravigar; I do not want to be drawn back into this.”

Denton nodded his head. “I hear you are really short of money. I can pay you twenty crowns if you can prevent it. Gold ones, not silver.”

“Twenty crowns!” Gwen said, her jaw hanging even lower.

Owin shook his head slowly. “What good is the coin if I’m dead? No. I don’t think so.”

“I’ll pay you twenty-five.”

Owin stood up. “Denton, it’s not the money. I’ve got more important things to concern myself with.”

Denton stood and stepped closer. “What’s more important than preventing Ravigar from becoming king?  You know him.  He used you and Gavin. You want those wars to start up again? They’re coming if you don’t act.”

“I have responsibilities.”

Denton nodded his head. “Remember what you always said.” He waited but Owin did not respond. “Never pass up an opportunity. It was your motto.”

“What’s your point?”

“I didn’t want to do this, but you made it possible. We need someone to take care of this and you’re best suited to killing the assassin undetected, and more importantly, if you are detected, you don’t trace back to us.”

“Don’t threaten me,” Owin said, trying to figure out a way to get Gwen out of the barn and away from this man.

Denton shrugged. “I offered money–and we’ll still pay you–but for Elsin’s sake, I suggest you do this.”

Owin stepped forward to grab Denton’s tunic, but he found himself thrown backwards; an invisible mass striking him in the chest.  He took a moment to catch his breath; the blow had been weak by normal standards.

“Owin,” Gwen cried, moving to his side.

“Elsin is fine,” Denton said. “Gina had me heal her. Elsin’s rather angry with you, if you want to know. But she is safe, for now.” Denton flattened the wrinkles of his tunic. “Gina said you saw weapons the Duke is sneaking into the city. You know what is coming. We have to stop him.”

Owin glared back at the holy warrior. Nothing in his power could harm that man and that made it worse.

“Look. I’ll give you and the girl a chance to think about it. Take the night. I’ll be back in the morning. If you aren’t motivated, fine, we’ll do it the hard way.”

Owin grabbed Gwen’s wrist, keeping her in place while the man turned and walked toward the door. Owin did not release her until Denton had exited, shutting the barn door behind himself.

“What are we going to do?” Gwen asked.

Owin closed his eyes, fighting back the rage he felt boiling his blood. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Owin, did you and my father kill people for the Duke?”

It was the question he always feared she would ask him. “Yes.”

 

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Owin #23 — A New Job

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin tried not to fidget in the new shirt he wore, but the linen itched. Gwen carried his prior shirt, using it to bundle her belongings.

“I get to dress as a man, why don’t you dress as a woman?” she grumbled quietly as they walked down a busy street toward the north city gate.

Owin glanced over at Gwen and noticed her left hand drifting down from her cropped hair. “There are a couple of reasons. First, it would look odd for me to be carrying my sword while in a dress. Second, while it is easy to cut hair in a pinch, growing it take time.” Stopping suddenly, he glanced over his shoulder while making a point of looking at a food merchant. With his peripheral vision, he watched for sudden changes in movement of anyone who might be following them. Not seeing anyone change direction suddenly, he headed over to the merchant with Gwen. “The sword is the biggest issue,” he said to continue the discussion. “A hat could cover the second.”

Pulling a couple of coins from the pouch at his belt, he waited for the merchant to finish helping a woman standing at the booth. “Two pasties,” Owin said, handing over the coins and getting the warm food in exchange.

He handed one of the meat-filled pasties to Gwen and took a bite out of the other one. “Your stomach was growling,” he said as he chewed.

Gwen shook her head. “Not mine; that was yours.”

Owin smiled. He felt some relief that despite the situation, she had not withdrawn into herself. “I hope you don’t mind, but I think until we can get your mother out, I’m going to try to hire us out as laborers. Perhaps look for a farm outside the city. Maybe get to sleep in a barn. The work won’t be fun, but we’ll be out of sight.”

Gwen nodded her head as she continued to eat. “Well, I won’t be doing it for life, right? Since we’re on the run, you’ll teach me what you know, right?”

Owin pondered the statement. His life lacked safety and security. It’s a surprise I am even still alive, he admitted to himself. He had taught her the basics, but should I go farther? Definitely not what the Duke paid me to do. “We’ll see,” he said.

“You always say that. If you let me help, I can help take care of my mother as well and everything won’t be on you.”

Owin moved around a pile of horse manure in the road. “We’ll see, Gw–we need a name for you.”

“Stevinoldston,” she said quickly.

Owin rolled his eyes. “If that is what you like.”

“Okay, how about Ben?”

Owin looked at her; he could not really picture her as a Ben, but that was more because he still saw her as a woman. “Ben it is. Don’t forget. You have to respond to it naturally.”

“Got it.”

“I’m Orlan and you’re my son.”

She smiled as she ate the last of the meat, proving she had been hungry. Tossing the crimped crust to the ditch, she nodded her head. “Sure thing, Dad.”

Owin shook his head as he continued to eat his pasty. He was beginning to wonder if her humor was simply how she was coping or if she truly was excited to now have a change in her life. In all likelihood, Gina will easily get Elsin healed and once the commotion dies down, she’ll be ready to leave the city. Or so he told himself, not wanting to think about the confrontation that would ensue when they were all reunited.

After crossing a third of the city, Owin led Gwen through the northern gate. A small gatehouse stood guard over the opening in the stone wall. However, the gates remained opened through the majority of the night and the guards only stopped the very poor from returning to the city. Even in their worn clothing, Owin knew would be unlikely they would have any trouble reentering the city at a later point.

Once outside the gates, a place Gwen had never ventured, Owin headed along the northern road, passing the numerous shops and inns setup to service those who did not wish to pay for more established lodging inside Rhyl’s walls. Outside of a war, the city walls offered little additional benefit aside from prestige.

They walked for three miles before Owin turned off the main road and took Gwen toward a smaller farming community. The sun reached the last third of the day by the time they reached the Village of Gouden. Looking for a farm with a summer crop still in the fields, Owin called out to several farmers from the road. He had started to become a little worried after the fourth rejection of his request for work. However, the fifth farm they stopped at was owned by an older woman and her equally old brother. After a short negotiation, Owin secured work for Gwen and himself in exchange for lodging in the barn, two meals a day, and a modest pay once the hay was cut.

“Just be hard about your work,” Madam Inga said, “and we’ll get along well.”

“Of course,” Owin said, knowing he only needed to buy a few days of safety for them. “Ben and I can definitely cut and stack hay.”

Being cautious, Owin sent Gwen with Mister Vance, Inga’s older brother. He hoped the man would be less observant of Gwen’s femininity than the older lady who seemed more watchful. With a smile to Inga, he put his weapons down and picked up a scythe to start working on the field before him.

 

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Owin #22 — A Hair Cut

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin had to force himself not to run back to where he had left Gwen. If something had already happened to her, haste would only draw more attention. Instead, he moved at a regular pace that tormented his mind as all the terrible things that could have transpired played out with each step.

Turning the last corner, he had nearly reached the door when movement down the street caught his attention. “Praise the gods!” He swore just above a whisper. Hastening to reach her, he wrapped her arms around her the moment he could. “Are you hurt? I saw someone with your things and feared the worse.”

Gwen left her head against his chest. “I was scared. This big guy and his friend came across me. I started to slip out the back way, but another man had been there.”

Conscious of drawing attention, Owin squeeze Gwen one last time, then broke the embrace. “Is the room safe? Did you manage to keep any of your things?”

“When I broke free, the big guy had left his friend knocked out on the floor. I’m not sure if he was dead or not.  I only saw the one man limp away.”  She swallowed.  “I did manage to keep my dagger.”

Owin nodded his head and led her back into the building. “We can’t stay here, but I want to see if any of your stuff is still there.” He handed her the few things he found on the man. “This is all he had on him.” Looking down at her worried expression, he smiled. “You did darn well with that dagger. I saw wounds on his arm and leg.  And don’t worry, he won’t bother you again.”

She smiled back at him and appeared to relax a little. “I couldn’t remember anything you taught me. I feared I had forgotten it all, but when he got close enough, I just reacted.  I could hardly believe I remembered it after all.”

Owin smiled. “You did good. You practiced enough that you didn’t need to think and that I’m sure made you faster.”

Entering the backroom, Owin noticed the man on the ground. The wound on his head had crusted over. It looked bad, but the man still lived. “How’d this one get knocked out?”

“Well, the big man threatened…he planned to….” She took a deep breath. “This one only wanted to rob me. He said he had a daughter of his own. The other one didn’t like this one trying to stop him.”

“You said there was a third man?”

“Yeah, but these two scared him off. They were not together.”

Owin carefully rolled the man over onto his back and took a look at him. He was not someone Owin recognized. The fact that he appeared to show some honor galvanized Owin’s decision. “Get those scraps of rug from over there. We’ll try to prop him up.” Once Gwen drug over the decaying material, Owin lifted the man’s shoulders and head so Gwen could put it under him. The man stirred a little, but remained unconscious.

Owin looked up as Gwen started to gather some of her clothing. “Leave those for now.” He reached into the bag he had hanging from his shoulder and pulled out the clothing he had stolen. “If the hall is clear, go ahead and change into these. You might also bind your chest a little tighter if you can manage without it being too uncomfortable.” He watched as Gwen looked down at her breasts; she normally had them compressed fairly flat with her corset. “You won’t be able to keep the corset; it’ll affect your movement. You’ll have to just use strips of cloth.”

Nodding her head, she took the cloths Owin handed her and went into the dark hall to change. While she did that, Owin turned back to the man and checked to see if he had any weapons on his person. He did not expect the man, even if armed, to be able to fight after that blow to the head, but he still would not risk it. Finding nothing, he pulled a water skin from his bag and dripped some water over the man’s face. It caused the man to react again, but he still did not open his eyes.

Gwen hurried back into the room, drawing Owin’s attention. “This feels odd,” she said, her dress and corset in her hands. “I left on my bloomers, since they seemed to fit.”

Owin nodded. She did look different in a man’s cloths, but Owin had known other woman, primarily from Pandaras, who had worn pants and shirts, so the idea of Gwen dressed that way did not bother him. “Okay, now for the part you are really not going to like.” He pulled out his sharp dagger. “We need to crop your hair.”

She crinkled her nose and closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded her head. “We don’t have a choice, right?”

“Well…” Owin said, letting his voice trail off. “We have a choice, but the risk of not doing it is going to be quite high. There will be a reward out for us and lots of people willing to collect, so…” He shrugged. “We don’t absolutely have to, but not doing it carries a risk.”

She pulled on the ends of her hair, holding out her long brown strands to look at it. “Okay, let’s do it.”

I am glad I didn’t have to force that, he admitted to himself as he moved to her side. He had always taught Gwen by giving her options and letting her understand the risks. Sometimes she had disappointed him, usually rather stubbornly. But, he felt she had learned to understand the reasons behind things sooner than others who were simply told what to do.

Although he knew it was the correct thing to do, when he took hold of her hair, he also regretted having to cut it. The hesitation lasted only a moment, but Gwen had noticed and smiled at him. Wasting no more time, he carefully started cutting her hair short, but not too short that it had the appearance of a recent cut.

A dagger made a terrible tool to trim hair, but it was not the first time he had done something like this. After a short period of time, he had finished. The ends were not exactly neat and more than a few hairs had been pulled painfully from Gwen’s head, but she now had a bowl-shaped cut that hung down just over her ears.

She looked at the pile of hair that Owin had stacked on her dress and Owin shook his head. “We’ll toss all of it into a fire. I don’t want someone to realize what we’ve done to mask your appearance.”

She nodded her head. “Good thing we don’t have any silver. I’d hate to see what I look like now.”

“You look fine. Too fine actually.” He walked over to the pile of debris and grabbed a handful of dirt. Coming back, he rubbed it on her face and arms, then wiped nearly all of it away so it would not look obvious. “Now, I can tell you, you don’t want to see yourself in silver.”

“Thanks.” She looked about the room. “What about him?”

“Owin shook his head. “We can try to revive him again, but if he does wake up, I don’t want him looking at you too closely, okay.”

 

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Owin #21 — No one harms Gwen

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Owin kept to the side streets and avoided places where there was a strong possibility someone who knew him might be present.  He never considered himself to be well-known and he had managed to keep a low profile for several years.  At least until he had been forced to approach Mark for a loan so Elsin and Gwen could keep their home.  That little event has cost me so much, he thought with regret he knew he should not feel.

Putting aside the frustration of the past, Owin turned down one of the last streets before he would be back to Gwen.  He did not like leaving her by herself, but for now, he could not take her with him.  While she could defend herself fairly well, he had never taught her his breaking and entering skills.  Something I had hoped to never be forced to show her.  He sighed, I don’t think it can be avoided now.

He moved passed a man siting against the wall of an old factory.  With his mind wondering, Owin had not noticed the material around the man’s hand, arm, and leg until the man growled at him.

Stopping, Owin turned back to face the bulky man who snarled another mumbled comment while putting pressure on obvious wounds.  The only words Owin had understood was ‘damn bitch’.  Knowing with certainty he saw the remains of Gwen’s blanket, Owin pulled his sword.  “Where’d you get that?” The tone of Owin voice caused the man to look closer at who he had been cursing.

“Get out of my sight,” the larger man snapped.  However, he did not immediately rise.

Not waiting for the man to move, Owin placed his sword against the larger man’s chest, the blade turned so it could slide between his ribs.  “You don’t want to make me angry.  Where did you find that blanket?”

The larger man held out his hands, one wrapped in a bloody strip of Gwen’s blanket.  “I just found it in a room.  Some guy was clubbed over the head and it looked like there was a struggle.  I just took what was on the ground.”

Owin looked into the man’s eyes.  He could see fear and pain behind the cold orbs.  “And I guess you must have tripped to get so many cuts.”

The man seemed about to respond, but instead he tried to knock the sword away.  Owin reacted faster, turning his blade, he slashed upward, gouging a grove into the man’s shoulder.

The man howled in pain and tried to rise to his feet, but his right leg lacked strength and Owin put his sword back against the man’s chest.  “What’d you do to Gwen?”

The man’s jaw clenched, but after Owin added some pressure to the sword tip, the man leaned back.  “The bitch ran off.  I don’t know where she went.  You can’t kill me for that.  I tried to help her, but there were two other men.  I got one of them with a club while the other one cut me up.  The second guy, a man named Vik, chased after her.”

Owin shook his head.  He did not believe a word this man said.  With no remorse, he pushed his sword home, cutting deep into the man’s heart.  When the man stopped struggling, he pulled his blade free, wiped off the blood, and quickly checked the man for anything else that belonged to Gwen.  Finding several of her things, he scooped them up and slid his sword back into its scabbard.  Damn them, if Gwen’s hurt…  He had no answer to what he would do if Gwen was hurt; the man was dead and in truth, he knew any anger should be directed at himself.

 

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Owin #20 — Duck and run

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen stared at the broad-shouldered man before her; her mind still racing to remember the fighting moves that Owin had tried to teach her. However, nothing actually came to her.

“Well, how about we get down to business,” the man said, the stick in his hand held before him. She had to tear her eyes from the chunk of bloody skin hanging off the jagged edge.  The tall man still lay unmoving where he fell.

“Take my stuff,” Gwen said, tossing her bundle to the ground and away from the dark hall the third man had left through.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take it, but I want to enjoy you first.”

Gwen swallowed. She still had her right hand against her side, hiding the dagger pressed against her forearm. The man likely weighed twice what she did, but he seemed to move with a little hesitation in his step. Damn it, Owin, where are you? To the man she said, “Wait. You don’t want to do this. I’ve got powerful friends.”

His smile froze her blood. “Well, I guess that means I’ll just have to kill you when I am done.”

“Wait.” She felt her legs trembling. After a moment she continued, “If I cooperate, will you let me live?”

The man paused and then nodded his head. “If I enjoy myself, sure.”

Gwen swallowed and nodded her head, knowing with complete certainty he lied. The man approached more quickly, but the club he fashioned from a broken bit of wood hung loosely in his hand. Gwen looked away as he stepped closer, reaching out his left hand to grab her.

With speed that surprised even herself, she slashed out with her right hand, keeping the dagger pointed down. The sharp blade ripped upward across the man’s hand, cutting a deep furrow.

Moving around the man’s left side, she took advantage of his instinctual response to pull his hand in close. Slashing out again, she bit through his shirt and up the backside of his arm.

The man howled in pain. Gwen, still moving to try to get behind the man, ducked as he swung the club at her, narrowly missing the top of her head.

Reversing her direction, she lashed out as she ran under his right arm, slashing his thigh in the process.

The blow that hit her took her by surprise. She had cleared his arm, but had not yet turned to face the man when the club smashed into her back. Pain ran through her body, but having risen to a more upright position, the blow knocked her across the room instead of dropping her to the floor. She stumbled into the wall, but managed to keep her feet.

Pushing off the wall, she headed toward the door Owin had led her through the night before. The man moved to follow, but the damage she did to his right thigh coupled with the prior injury, gave her enough time to jump over the tall man still laying on the ground and out distance the man’s reach with the club.

“I’ll murder you! You damn, Bitch!”

Gwen did not stop moving; she dodged around debris and headed in the direction she hoped would bring her out of the building. I can’t believe I just did that, she thought as she emerged from the building. Glancing behind her, she did not see the man.  However, she had no intention of waiting for him. A couple of other people, presumably as homeless as she, sat against the old buildings. One of them looked in her direction, but she knew no one would come to her rescue if the man caught her.

Turning to the left, she moved away from the entrance and looked from somewhere she felt she could hide. She did not want to go too far. How would Owin find me if I did? But she could not remain in a place where that man could reach her. He would not be lured in close like that a second time.

Seeing a place down an alley, she ducked into cover and then quickly checked the building she had come from; the man had not yet emerged. “Perhaps I really hurt him?” She put her hand to her back, now without an immediate threat, the pain from the blow started to make itself known. Keeping an eye to the back of the alley, she sat down to carefully watch for Owin, still amazed the moves Owin had taught her had come back when it counted.

 

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Book Signing at Barnes & Noble

Great news everyone, I’ll be at the Zona Rosa Barnes & Noble store on Saturday,18 Oct 20014 from 1:30 pm to about 3:30 pm!  Come out for several great activities this weekend.

The Saturday events include:

Wonders of Science Demonstrations
Clifford Visit
Hands-On Learning: ZOOB Building and Modeling
Educator Private Shopping
My Book Signing (of course)

Hope to see everyone there!

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Owin #19 Someone is coming

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen sat in the abandoned room, but she still did not see the debris and refuse around her even with the light of the morning coming in through a broken window opening. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was her mother laying discarded on the floor. Why did I steal that damn spoon? She demanded of herself, tears leaking from her eyes. Damn it, why?

She had no answer for herself, despite having asked the question through the morning and prior night. She knew the fault remained with her. She wanted to blame Owin, but the idea of being free from a life of servitude had overruled her own doubts at the time. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.”

She sighed. Her stomach growled. Her tongue clung to her parched lips. Her bladder protested. However, she had no strength to move. She closed her eyes again, but then opened then suddenly as she heard the sounds of someone in a different part of the building.

Listening carefully, she tried to remember what the building looked like, but Owin had led her to this room in the dark and she did not remember how many rooms they passed through. Her hope that the noise was Owin returning died the moment she heard the voices. The distance and walls between her and them made it impossible to understand what had been said, but she knew Owin would have made no sounds and neither voice sounded like him.

Trying to avoid making any noise, she slowly rose to her feet. The dryness of her mouth now from fear. The people who were normally found in abandoned factories and warehouses were not ones she could trust or want to meet.

She glanced down at the bundle of things she had taken from her home. Most of it remained wrapped in the old blanket. She crouched down and pulled out the short dagger Owin had given her on her twelfth birthday and then gathered the rest of her things back into the bundle.

“You know we don’t have time to head all the way across town,” came one masculine voice. The speaker sounded older to her ears, but not ancient. Perhaps Owin’s age, she considered.

“Don’t give me that,” came the voice she heard more predominately before. “You need to just keep up. Otherwise you’ll starve.” This voice sent a chill down her spine. The tone in that voice spoke of a willingness to be physical. “Let’s see if that guy left anything behind.”

Gwen looked toward the window, but it sat high in the wall, allowing in light and letting out heat, but limiting anyone from using as a means to come or go from the room. A second doorway in the back wall led to a dark hall. Her heart racing, she gathered her bundle and started to head toward the narrow hall, but a squeak came out of her mouth when a face appeared in the darkness. The momentary hope that it was Owin decayed instantly into fear as a roughly dressed man emerged from the hall.

Gwen had already stepped back, her right hand instinctively moved behind her to hide the weapon. She stepped back again, turning slightly to keep her eye on the other doorway as she heard the men who had been speaking step into the room.

“What do we have here?” The physical sounding man demanded. His bearded face hid under a mop of hair that had not seen more than a hand brushing in a long time. His broad shouldered form stood a head shorter than the thin man behind him. The man looked Gwen up and down, but then turned his attention to the other man who had come out of the darkness. “Vik, you’re not welcome here.”

The roughly dressed man shifted his shoulders, loosening his torn and threadbare shirt around his body. “I can go where I want.”

“We saw this place first,” said the broader man, a club made of a broken bit of wood lifted up for everyone to see. “You want us to prove it to you?”

The roughly dressed man sniffed once and looked at both the men before him, and then Gwen watched as he turned back to her. With a final glance around the room, the man shrugged and turned back to the dark hall. “Pin, you’ll get yours one day,” he said as he moved quickly away.

Gwen’s heart still raced. She had remained a silent watcher, but now the two remaining men’s attention fell totally upon her. The smile that came across the shorter man’s face made her swallow.

“I had thought to find a few cloths and perhaps some food. This is so much better.”

Gwen tried to remember all the fighting moves Owin had taught her, but nothing came to her mind. Owin, I need you, she thought, praying he would come up behind these men and rescue her. Not seeing him, she found her voice as the broad man stepped forward. “I’m protected. You don’t want to harm me.”

The man’s grin widened. “Really, where is this protector of yours? He hiding in that bundle of yours? Perhaps he’s under your dress. We can take it off and have him protect you.”

“Pip, leave the girl alone,” the taller man said from behind him. “I’ve got a daughter not much younger than her. Take her bundle, but nothing more.”

The broad man turned his body and head to the man behind him. “Rigor, you don’t want to enjoy the girl, then don’t.  But don’t tell me what to do.”

Gwen glanced toward the dark hall, wondering if the other man had left or was still waiting for her. She calculated a run toward the hall, but the broad man’s voice froze her in place.

“Don’t think about it girly, I’ll yank out your hair if you try to run for it.”

“Pip. I won’t let you harm her. Take her bundle and let’s be done with this.” The tall man put his hand on the broad man’s shoulder. “I’ll stop you if you try.”

The broad man’s movement startled Gwen. He moved so suddenly that the tall man did not have a chance to dodge the club as it flew up and struck his head. Gwen’s eyes widened as the tall man slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead, she had no way to know.

“Now, where were we?”

Continue to next episode.

 

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Owin #19 — Someone is coming

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Gwen sat in the abandoned room, but she still did not see the debris and refuse around her even with the light of the morning coming in through a broken window opening. Everywhere she looked, all she could see was her mother laying discarded on the floor. Why did I steal that damn spoon? She demanded of herself, tears leaking from her eyes. Damn it, why?

She had no answer for herself, despite having asked the question through the morning and prior night. She knew the fault remained with her. She wanted to blame Owin, but the idea of being free from a life of servitude had overruled her own doubts at the time. “Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.”

She sighed. Her stomach growled. Her tongue clung to her parched lips. Her bladder protested. However, she had no strength to move. She closed her eyes again, but then opened then suddenly as she heard the sounds of someone in a different part of the building.

Listening carefully, she tried to remember what the building looked like, but Owin had led her to this room in the dark and she did not remember how many rooms they passed through. Her hope that the noise was Owin returning died the moment she heard the voices. The distance and walls between her and them made it impossible to understand what had been said, but she knew Owin would have made no sounds and neither voice sounded like him.

Trying to avoid making any noise, she slowly rose to her feet. The dryness of her mouth now from fear. The people who were normally found in abandoned factories and warehouses were not ones she could trust or want to meet.

She glanced down at the bundle of things she had taken from her home. Most of it remained wrapped in the old blanket. She crouched down and pulled out the short dagger Owin had given her on her twelfth birthday and then gathered the rest of her things back into the bundle.

“You know we don’t have time to head all the way across town,” came one masculine voice. The speaker sounded older to her ears, but not ancient. Perhaps Owin’s age, she considered.

“Don’t give me that,” came the voice she heard more predominately before. “You need to just keep up. Otherwise you’ll starve.” This voice sent a chill down her spine. The tone in that voice spoke of a willingness to be physical. “Let’s see if that guy left anything behind.”

Gwen looked toward the window, but it sat high in the wall, allowing in light and letting out heat, but limiting anyone from using as a means to come or go from the room. A second doorway in the back wall led to a dark hall. Her heart racing, she gathered her bundle and started to head toward the narrow hall, but a squeak came out of her mouth when a face appeared in the darkness. The momentary hope that it was Owin decayed instantly into fear as a roughly dressed man emerged from the hall.

Gwen had already stepped back, her right hand instinctively moved behind her to hide the weapon. She stepped back again, turning slightly to keep her eye on the other doorway as she heard the men who had been speaking step into the room.

“What do we have here?” The physical sounding man demanded. His bearded face hid under a mop of hair that had not seen more than a hand brushing in a long time. His broad shouldered form stood a head shorter than the thin man behind him. The man looked Gwen up and down, but then turned his attention to the other man who had come out of the darkness. “Vik, you’re not welcome here.”

The roughly dressed man shifted his shoulders, loosening his torn and threadbare shirt around his body. “I can go where I want.”

“We saw this place first,” said the broader man, a club made of a broken bit of wood lifted up for everyone to see. “You want us to prove it to you?”

The roughly dressed man sniffed once and looked at both the men before him, and then Gwen watched as he turned back to her. With a final glance around the room, the man shrugged and turned back to the dark hall. “Pin, you’ll get yours one day,” he said as he moved quickly away.

Gwen’s heart still raced. She had remained a silent watcher, but now the two remaining men’s attention fell totally upon her. The smile that came across the shorter man’s face made her swallow.

“I had thought to find a few cloths and perhaps some food. This is so much better.”

Gwen tried to remember all the fighting moves Owin had taught her, but nothing came to her mind. Owin, I need you, she thought, praying he would come up behind these men and rescue her. Not seeing him, she found her voice as the broad man stepped forward. “I’m protected. You don’t want to harm me.”

The man’s grin widened. “Really, where is this protector of yours? He hiding in that bundle of yours? Perhaps he’s under your dress. We can take it off and have him protect you.”

“Pip, leave the girl alone,” the taller man said from behind him. “I’ve got a daughter not much younger than her. Take her bundle, but nothing more.”

The broad man turned his body and head to the man behind him. “Rigor, you don’t want to enjoy the girl, then don’t.  But don’t tell me what to do.”

Gwen glanced toward the dark hall, wondering if the other man had left or was still waiting for her. She calculated a run toward the hall, but the broad man’s voice froze her in place.

“Don’t think about it girly, I’ll yank out your hair if you try to run for it.”

“Pip. I won’t let you harm her. Take her bundle and let’s be done with this.” The tall man put his hand on the broad man’s shoulder. “I’ll stop you if you try.”

The broad man’s movement startled Gwen. He moved so suddenly that the tall man did not have a chance to dodge the club as it flew up and struck his head. Gwen’s eyes widened as the tall man slumped to the floor, unconscious or dead, she had no way to know.

“Now, where were we?”

 

The post Owin #19 — Someone is coming appeared first on Thaddeus Nowak.

Autumn in the Grove — event

On Saturday, 11 Oct 2014, Lansing is having their 9th annual Autumn in the Grove event.  Unfortunately, the primary location is underwater, but they have a backup location (City Hall / Community center) at 800 1st Terrace, Lansing, Ks.  The event runs from 11am to 5pm.

Great part, attendance is free!

I’ve attached a copy of the directory where all the vendors and musicians will be at.  There will be fun for all, including pumpkin decorating, a chainsaw carving demonstration, Operation Wildlife, food, drink, goodies to buy, and Hallie Rose will be performing.  I of course will be ready to chat with anyone who wants to come by and visit.

On Sunday, I’ll be back at the KC Ren Fest helping in booth #531.  This will be the last weekend this season for the Ren Fest, so don’t miss it.

Below is an image of the flooded grove in case you wanted to see what all the rain lately has done (it is also making my lawn grow).

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Owin #18 — A new shirt and pants

Check out the start of the series.

Photo ©Depositphotos.com / Oleksandr Minyaylo

Morning eventually came, though neither Owin nor Gwen felt any relief. The prior day, they had each woken with the intent that the day would bring them good fortune; this morning both of them silently contemplated everything they had lost and could still lose.

“I need to get you some pants and a shirt,” Owin final said to break the tension.

Gwen nodded her head. “And you don’t think anyone will know I am not a man?”

Owin looked at Gwen; her face had definite feminine qualities. Her eyes, her lips, her nose all spoke woman to him. However, he knew her too well and she reminded him of Elsin. Only her attitude and determination reminded him of Gavin. “We’ll try to avoid anyone really looking at you. We’ll also add some grease or sap stains to your face. That will help hide how smooth your completion is.”

Gwen nodded her head and look down at her chest. She had never had the chance to overeat and her body had developed much as her mother’s had, with minimal cleavage. But it would be another tell.

“We’ll have to bind your chest,” he finally said, knowing she was self-conscious in her apparent lacking and that her opinion of herself fell below reality.

Getting up, Owin glanced about the old room and the debris that lay in heaps on the ground. “You should be safe here. Stay out of sight if you hear anything. I’ll bring us back something to eat as well.”

Gwen nodded her head. “Will you find out if mother is okay as well?”

Owin shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it.” Upon seeing her expression, he sighed. “If I can do so safely, I’ll see if I can find out anything.” Reaching down, he patted her on the head. “I’ve got out of more difficult situations; I’ll get us out of this one as well.”

She nodded her head, but continued to sit on the worn blanket without looking up at him.

Turning away, Owin carefully made his exit from the abandoned building. It’s a damn good thing Rhyl has not fully recovered from the last war. I’d hate to think of what we’d do if we had to complete for empty space.

Owin made his way down the street as the predawn light moved out of the deep reds and oranges into a lighter blue of daylight. He hesitated a moment, reconsidering what he would lose by abandoning his small room. With a frown, he turned direction and headed toward a poorer section of town, resolved to his decision to leave his belongings to whomever would eventually take them. Matorick the Cruel, Owin thought with a mental sneer, probably has people watching right now. They’d grab me the moment they see me.

Keeping to side streets and alleys, he quickly reached one of several sections of the city where many laborers found rooms and some semblance of shelter. There were already many people on the street in this section of town, heading toward the docks or to the edge of the city where they might work in some of the fields. Others, based upon their soot covered clothes, likely worked in the in the nearby foundries, shoveling charcoal into furnaces to smelt copper.

Moving slowly down the street, Owin keep watch for any doors where a large number of people exited together. Since most of these people were hurrying to reach their place of employment before they might lose pay, Owin covered his slowness with a limp and a hunch that might indicate that his back pained him.

Seeing at least twelve men move through a door on the other side of the lane, Owin cut across the foot traffic and pulled open the door to enter the building. Keeping his head bent down, he nodded a greeting to another man who passed him in the narrow hallway.

Owin skipped the doors on this first level and went to the back of the hall and climbed the steep stairs to the next floor. Knowing the building had three floors, he skipped the second floor and went to the third. While it put him further from the exit, breaking into a room of the top floor reduced the chance for someone to pass him in the act by two-thirds.

Again moving slowly, he walked passed the doors in the hall, listening carefully for the sounds of anyone inside the small flats. A couple of rooms he knew were occupied by the sounds of babies crying. Near the far end of the hall, he passed by four rooms that had no sounds. Doesn’t mean they’re empty, but it’s better than nothing. Moving back one room, to place a potentially empty room on either side of him, he bent down to examine the crude lock.

After making his assessment, he pulled out his dagger and forced be blade between the door and the jamb and then pried a wide enough gap that the door popped open. He took a deep breath and then went into the small room. While Owin hated to steal from those who were no better off than himself, his fear for Gwen and Elsin took priority over his morals.

The inside of the room looked much like his own, except this one had a larger table and chairs. He noted the small fireplace against the far wall that provided both heat to keep the room warm in the winter as well as a place to cook food. A few dirty bowls and a mug sat on the table, but only a thin film of food remained. Not much to go around, he thought ruefully.

Unlike his small space, this residence had a second room. Moving slowly across the floor, he moved with minimal noise, just in case someone did happen to be home. Little light made its way into the backroom and Owin saw no evidence of a candle or a lamp. No people, he thought with a weak grin. Likely very dark at night.

The small room held a stuffed mattress on the floor, a stool for the chamberpot, a pile of dirty clothes, and a bucket. Owin suspected the wooden bucket served as a means to wash everything and anything in the flat.

He moved to the pile of clothing and started digging through the pile. Four shirts and two pair of pants were mixed in with a few socks and some under garments. Everything smelled strongly, but we can wash it later, he thought as he held up the brown fabric. Fortunately, the shirt did not appear that large. The benefit from stealing from those who don’t have enough to eat.

Owin heard the floor in the outer room creak. Grabbing the pants and the shirt, he pulled his dagger and slowly twisted into a standing position. The second slow creak coming from the other room told him whoever approached hoped to catch him unaware. Without hesitation, Owin rushed the doorway, ducking low and away from the wall the other person might be hiding behind. He spun round, the blade of his dagger turned down to protect his forearm as well as allow for a slashing punch.

A scream greeted him; issued from a young woman who had jumped back and nearly fell as Owin rounded the corner. The piece of wood in her hand, held like a club, almost slipped to the floor, but she did manage to catch it. “Don’t kill me!” she pleaded.

Owin came fully upright and lowered his weapon to make himself less threatening. “I won’t hurt you, but just stay against that wall and I’ll be on my way.”

The woman recovered some of her composure. “What are you doing here and why do you have Oran’s clothes?”

“Ma’am, let’s do both of ourselves a favor and not ask any more questions,” Owin said as he moved around the other side of the table. He did not want to hurt this brown-haired lady, but she might not have the same desire for him. “I just need to borrow a shirt and some pants and I’ll be on my way.” He kept his body turned toward her as he continued toward the door. “No harm, no damage and I am truly sorry to have to do this, but I really need them. If I can pay him back at some point, I will.”

Having reached the door, Owin moved through it and pulled it shut behind him. Keeping his head low, he moved quickly back to the stairs and started heading down. He did not know how many people might have heard the scream and did not want to wait to find out.

 

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