Peter suddenly interrupted while I was with my thoughts, “My Lord it’s getting late I suggest that we stay at the inn for the night before we proceed to Westwood tomorrow.”
“No, I was thinking of staying somewhere else,” I declined his proposal.
He looked puzzled, then asked, “Where my Lord?”
I took a drink from my cup before I answered, “Let’s camp outside for the night.”
It was clear that Peter was not enthusiastic of the idea, “I would not recommend that my Lord, it could be dangerous,” he warned.
“Oh come on, you and I both know that travelers often sleep and hunt outdoors, and I am sure you have tried it without running into trouble.”
“Yes my Lord but with all due respect, I am not the Lord of Pinewood,” he explained trying to dissuade me.
I grinned at his comment then added, “No you’re not but that doesn’t make me any less entitled to camp outside, and besides, you know the land, I trust you know the safest places.”
Peter sighed, “As you wish my Lord, but we need to make preparations first.”
“Sure, we will buy the necessary things that you say we need,” I agreed.
“And if we are going to sleep outside my Lord, the best place and the safest would be by the river,” he stated with authority this time.
I smiled at his firm attitude, “It’s a deal then.”
We left the bar and bought the necessary supplies we needed for the camp. I bought two bows and arrows for the hunt from one of the market stalls and gave one to Peter. The bows looked good made from strong wood from the trees of Pinewood. I had experience in using one of these back at Fortis in an archery class. We then returned to the stables and paid the stable keeper after he retrieved our horses, and we rode out of town before it went dark.
The river was not that wide but it stretched for miles and it even passed near the manor; It was not so deep and the current was not strong that you could cross it without any trouble. We arrived at the nearest river bank and made camp. We let the horses graze while we gathered for woods to build a fire later. I was checking the bow I bought, trying to feel the weight of it and placed an arrow on the bow string.
“Have you ever shot one my Lord?” Peter asked while holding his own bow.
I shot an arrow at a nearby tree, and it landed at the center of the trunk.
Peter grinned.
“I guess I still know how to use one of this but I haven’t tried hunting before,” I confessed.
“It’s easy my Lord, just aim the arrow straight forward,” he encouraged.
“Shall we?” I proceeded into the woods with Peter right behind with our bows on hand and the arrows on our back. We walked slowly careful not to scare any creature worth hunting. Sure enough a moment later, Peter spotted a rabbit hiding in the bushes. The brown rabbit was slowly walking around searching for food. We stood our ground and made sure not to make any sudden movements. I placed an arrow on the string and stretched the bow aiming it at the unaware rabbit, then I released, it pierced right through its body.
“Nice shot my Lord,” Peter complimented smiling at my triumph.
“Lucky shot,” I chuckled.
I hunted two rabbits and I gave Peter a shot at the third. The sun was almost setting so we decided to hunt our last one. We were already deeper into the woods when Peter suddenly tapped my shoulder as we were slowly walking. I looked at him and he silently gestured me to crouch down with him which I obliged. We were hidden behind tall grasses and Peter pointed at the right side just behind a tree where a doe suddenly emerged. She was magnificent; it was the first one I saw up close. The doe moved her head around curious of the surroundings and nibbling at some grasses, and slowly moving gracefully towards us.
“Aim near the chest my Lord,” Peter whispered.
I silently mounted an arrow and pulled the string of the bow while kneeling. As I took aim, the doe saw me but instead of running away, she stared back at me. There was a look of innocence and trust in its eyes and it didn’t seem to regard me as a threat. I was still aiming the arrow but I didn’t had the heart to release it.
“Is everything alright my Lord?” Peter whispered with a hint of concern.
I aimed the bow down and relaxed the string.
“Nothing, I was just thinking we have enough for today,” I explained.
Peter nodded and did not say anything.
We went back to camp. I started the fire while Peter skinned and cleaned the rabbits. He showed me how to do it and how to cook it. Night was upon us when we finished eating. The fire was burning bright in the dark and I lay on the blanket gazing at the stars fascinated on how magnificent they were. Everything was quiet and peaceful save the crackling sound of the burning wood. I never felt so relaxed and I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to spend every night like this under the stars, with no manor or titles and the responsibilities that comes with it. Then I looked at Peter, who was sitting across from me carving the end of a wood stick with his knife.
“How often do you do this Peter? Spending the night outside,” I asked intrigued.
He was surprised by my question but he willingly replied, “When I am home my Lord. My dad and I would camp outside when we go hunting.”
“That’s nice, your dad taught you how to hunt?”
He nodded, “Since I was a child my Lord.”
“Where are you from?”
“Eastwood my Lord.”
“Oh, were we near your home? We could have paid a visit if I knew.”
“It’s okay my Lord, no need to, my home is out of the way from our route.”
There was silence.
“Did you grew up on a farm?” I continued.
“Yes my Lord, almost the same as the First Village.”
“So you know Mr. Conolly?”
“Yes my Lord, my father and Mr. Conolly had been trading for a long time, I passed by their village every time I have a chance to go home.”
I stared at the stars once again and imagined what it must be like for Peter traveling home and going through the meadows and woods, and spending the night like this.
“Are you and your father close?” for some reason I didn’t know why I asked that personal question. I glanced at his direction and he stopped what he was doing and with the light from the fire on his face, I could see the surprised and hesitant expression. I would understand if he refused to answer; Omegas were not used to Elites asking very personal questions.
Peter then continued carving the wood and smiled, “Yes my Lord, I couldn’t ask for a better father,” he said with pride.
I grinned back, I was happy for him. I continued staring at the stars without saying another word. Peter was lucky to have a close relationship with his father, I somewhat envy him and it made me sad that I would never know what it would be like to have a father to look up to. His respond made me feel that I was missing out on so many things. I may be the Lord of Pinewood with all the wealth and lands but all of that seemed empty to me.
I woke up with the birds chirping their early morning songs. Peter was already awake preparing our breakfast. The sun was rising and not a dark cloud in the sky, and I think it was going to be another clear day ahead of us. I stood up and folded my blanket and placed it with the other belongings. I went to the river and washed my face with the cool fresh water and it felt good. I approached Peter to see if he needed help but everything was already prepared, our breakfast and coffee then I realized we were having fish.
“How did you catch this?” I asked in amazement.
Peter beamed, “With this my Lord,” he showed me the long wooden stick with a pointy end which he was carving last night.
A chuckled, “A hunter and a spear fisherman.” He laughed at the remark as well.
We harnessed our horses and packed our things after we ate. We rode off again with Peter leading the way. We were in Westwood on our way to the Steel Plants. It was a hot day so we had to take short breaks under a shade so not to tire
the horses from the heat.
We finally arrived near the vicinity of the Steel Plants. There were about ten of them all surrounded by a very high wall. White smoke came from each Plant. There was nothing pleasant around this area, the Plants were an eyesore sticking out from the green lands of Pinewood. The horses were uneasy by the loud noises from the huge trucks that came and went through the large steel gate. The trucks loaded with tree trunks entered while the trucks with the steels sheets left. We finally reached the guard station who watched over the gate.
“Halt! No one is allowed to enter without a permit,” shouted the guard.
We stopped in front of the gate and got down from our horses. The guard came to us holding a large firearm across his chest.
“This is Lord Curtis of house Bermule, we came to see Mr. Stanford,” Peter informed the guard.
The guard in his silver uniform examined Peter then me and I don’t think I was recognized, “Wait here,” commanded the guard. He went back to the guard station and made a call. After a moment of talking, he returned and said, “Come with me.”
We left the horses outside and the guard motioned the other guard to open the gates. The heavy steel slid open sideways and we entered. There were people going about inside the area and were wearing a worker’s blue jumpsuit and silver helmets. The guard took us to a building which looked like an office. When we entered, a female receptionist behind a counter greeted us.
“They’re here for Mr. Stanford,” the guard reported.
“Thank you, I’ll take it from here,” the receptionist dismissed the guard.
She went out from the counter and approached us smiling and curtsied.
“Please follow me my Lord,” she requested.
We followed her into an elevator and went up then stopped on the tenth floor. When we came out, we proceeded to a woman seated behind a table near a door.
“Lord Curtis here for Mr. Stanford,” the receptionist informed.
The woman who seemed to be the assistant stood up from her seat and curtsied, “Lord Curtis, this way please,” she gestured to the door. The receptionist left us, and Peter stayed behind when I followed the assistant, she knocked and opened the door which revealed an office inside. A man was sitting behind a large wooden desk and behind him was a large window where you could see the Steel Plants outside. He looked up and stood from his chair and came towards me.
“Lord Curtis, please come in,” he greeted.
The assistant introduced the man, “Lord Curtis, may I present to you Mr. Stanford, manager of the Bermule Steel Plants.”
Mr. Stanford bowed and we shook hands. I couldn’t tell how old he was but his brown hair and thick framed eyeglass and a few lines under eyes gave me the impression that he was a man of experience.
“Thank you Cora, that will be all,” he dismissed his assistant. She nodded then exited the room.
“Please have a seat my Lord and what can I do for you?” he asked while he returned to his chair.
I took the seat in front of his desk and I responded casually, “I’m just here trying to familiarize the land, the Plants and the people. I recently returned from Fortis and I would like to be of some help here.”
Mr. Stanford leaned on his large black leather chair and said, “The Duke of Pinewood is on top of things and he made it quite clear that everything should be where it is supposed to be my Lord so I assure you that everything is running smoothly, but if ever the time comes when we do need your advice, I won’t hesitate to ask my Lord.”
I nodded but I had a feeling that he was not sincere with his words.
“That’s good to hear,” I pretended to agree, “How’s production?” I added.
“Better than ever my Lord, all Steel Plants are running at optimal level,” he declared proudly.
“Any concerns from the workers?”
“None my Lord, everybody is contented with the wages and their job.”
Mr. Stanford cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, “Anything else I could do for you my Lord?” he inquired.
I paused then finally asked, “You wouldn’t mind if we could see inside one of the Plants?”
I could tell from his face that he was not happy with the idea, “I’m sorry my Lord, I could not allow you to enter for safety purposes of course; and besides, it’s no place for a Lord, it’s unpleasant and noisy. The Duke would not be happy if he found out about it.”
It was not the unpleasantness of the place I was worried about; it was his deflection of the subject matter that bothered me. I was starting to get frustrated; I felt that no matter what I said, he would decline it directly or indirectly. It was obvious that he only takes orders from my brother and I can’t persuade him any further if that was the case but I had to try.
“How about the living quarters then? Can I at least talk to some of the workers?” I implored to him.
He grinned uncomfortably and responded, “Everything is fine my Lord, I assure you..…”
“Then you won’t mind if I go there?” I insisted.
Mr. Stanford frowned and did not respond.
“Forgive me but I heard Mr. Stanford,” I said calmly in a low voice yet trying to be intimidating, “that some were forced to work here.”
Mr. Stanford chuckled, “All rumors. It would be unbecoming of you if you believed them….. my Lord.”
“Is it?” I said, it was more of a provocation than a question.
He leaned forward his desk, with a calm and serious expression and I could not tell if he was affected by my words or not, “My Lord,” he paused then proceeded, “we have been doing our job for a long time even when the late Duke, your father, was still around and I am very good at it. I assure you that nobody is forcing anybody to work here. It is against the law to force anyone to work against their will and you know that very well my Lord. The Duke of Pinewood does not allow any of the laws to be broken.”
We sat in silence. I did not know what to think of this man but one thing was clear that he did not regard me as anything but a nuisance.
“If there’s nothing else my Lord, please excuse me but I still have plenty of work to do,” he stood up and I did the same and he guided me back to the door.
“Cora, please escort Lord Curtis, we’re done here for today.”
“Certainly sir,” the assistant complied.
Mr. Stanford gave me one last look before I left, “Lord Curtis, it’s been a pleasure having you here,” he grinned like nothing had happened and he closed the door behind him without waiting for any reply.
We were on our horses again on a hilltop outside looking down at the white smokes being carried by the wind. I felt disappointed that I accomplished nothing, but there was not much I can do here then I sadly realized that the only man who probably knew everything was Andrew and he would not be happy if I questioned him. We went back to the road riding towards home. We were silent all the way as we galloped across the grass trying to reached home before dark and sometimes we had short breaks to rest the horses then we would be on our way again. We arrived home just in time it was almost dark. I thanked Peter and dismissed him before he returned the horses to Mr. Witherson. I entered the manor exhausted and was greeted by our butler Mr. Thistle.
“My Lord, dinner will be served at the dining room and his Grace and the Lady will be joining,” he informed in a very formal manner.
“Thank you Mr. Thistle, let me have a change of clothes first,” I said.
“Very good my Lord,” he bowed then left.
I entered the dining room, it had a more intimate setting and a smaller table that accommodates ten people, and designed for the private dinners of the family. The room was not as big as our banquet halls but just as extravagant. Lady Katherine, Andrew’s wife, was already seated waiting. She smiled when I approached and I smiled back. I took the seat across from her beside the head of the table. Lady Katherine was shy and a very refined attractive Lady, daughter of a very wealthy Duke. I saw her around the manor from time
to time but we hardly spoke to each other not because I did not like her but she often kept to herself. She was known to be quiet in social gatherings and follows Andrew wherever he goes in such events and she does what he asked of her. Some might think of her as snobbish since she did not mingle like the others but I think of her as kind and friendly once she becomes comfortable with the company. She and my brother had two sons and a daughter. The sons were already at Fortis and soon their daughter, Katrina, will be sent away as well to Yuvaika. Lady Katherine usually spends her time in the west wing of the manor with her daughter who I met a few times, she had the same brown hair and light brown eyes as her mother, and nothing from Andrew. It was not long when Andrew entered the room, “Aaahh… good! I’m famished. Dinner Mr. Thistle!” he commanded while taking his seat at the head of the table. Mr. Thistle motioned the footmen to serve our food. No one spoke a word which was not unusual. We always waited for Andrew to speak first, and nobody wanted to dampened his mood, he had a temper and no one, not even Lady Katherine, would dare crossed him. We were already on our desserts when Andrew suddenly asked, “So how was your journey?” without looking up while he ate his cream pudding.
I was about to do the same but stopped midway, surprised by his question, “it was alright,” I responded trying to make my answers as brief as possible.
“So you got a good look at the country side?”
“Yes I did.”
“And the farms?”
“We visited a village along the way.”
“Which village?”
“The one in Eastwood near Greendale forest.”
“Ahhh… the First Village.”
Then he paused.
“Where did you go next?” he continued.
I was not sure why he kept asking these questions but I had to answer him, “We went to the Steel Plants of Westwood.”
Andrew stopped eating, drank his wine and wiped his mouth with a table napkin and finally looked at me for the first time that evening, “And do tell me what were you doing there?” he asked in a sudden change of tone of his voice, a more hostile manner.
I didn’t answer immediately. Something told me that he already knew what I was doing there.
The Premortals (The Premortals Series Book 1) Page 6
