TCOB: CHAPTER ELEVEN

A hair's breadth

Sir Tuile Longboat stared at the peasant in front of him with a faint frown. Something about this fellow unnerved him. The jaded aristocrat had long perfected the art of reading people―yet for some reason, the young man in front of him felt like an enigma.

Although the peasant grovelled pathetically before him, there was a superior aura about his form. Partially hidden under a shawl, his immature expression was one of awe, but there was something about his eyes that couldn't lie; those tranquil orbs reflected only calmness. As if everything still remained within the great expanse of his control.

"What is your name?" Sir Tuile asked, unnerved. Despite the great disparity in power, the longer he stared at this youth who wouldn't be any older than his son, the older knight felt like he was facing an equal…

Or even possibly, a superior of some sort.

"T-timothy, my lord," the peasant boy replied with a stammer. Tuile's frown grew deeper as the feeling of discomfort in his heart inflated.

"Where are you from?" he asked as he watched the fellow's expression for a crack. A flaw. A sign. Anything to relieve the unease growing in his heart. Nothing appeared.

"N-neverna, m’lord," the boy replied with another stammer before opening one of the crude bags on his shoulder. The leather sack was filled to the brim with a few herbs Tuile struggled to identify. "My madam sent me over to buy some herbs and fruits from Longboat village."

Suspicious… Tuile mused thoughtfully.

"There are other villages closer to Neverna where herbs could be purchased. Needing to come this far for mere herbs seems out of place, right?" Said Tuile as he projected his suspicions towards his son who had arrived to stand beside him. Teil nodded soberly as he seemed to agree with the assessment.

Hearing words of doubts being shone on his argument made the peasant boy squirm slightly in fear… discomfort?

"Why are you here boy?" Tuile asked as he raised his blade to the peasant's neck. The boy froze and began stammering in fear… Yet his eyes remained too calm.

"I-I…"

"Can't you speak boy?" Tuile growled threateningly to which the boy immediately collapsed, sobbing.

"F-forgive me, my lord," he said through tears, "I came to see a girl. Enna."

"Girl?" Sir Tuile asked, baffled, "I thought your madam sent you to buy herbs? You dare lie to me, boy?"

"I wouldn't dare, my lord!" the boy exclaimed through a sob. "My madam did send me to buy herbs. It's just…"

"Just?"

"...She didn't say which village I should buy from…" he said trailing off, seeming ashamed.

Sir Tuile continued to stare at the boy for a moment longer, gradually feeling conflicted. His intuition told him something was wrong, yet common sense said otherwise. Clearly, this was just a simple case of misplaced teenage affection. The boy liked a girl and took a great risk to meet her. It was unsurprising to Tuile, as even his son Teil had his fair share of similar excesses…

Yet why? Sir Tuile asked himself as the feeling in his heart refused to subside. Pushing down his unease, Sir Tuile glanced at the donkey behind the boy, the nervous animal was laden with sacks, possibly herbs. What did his madam want with so much herbs? It wasn't Tuile's concern. Nobles could be weird sometimes, so it would be best to leave things be than antagonise some unknown lady for no good reason.

Settling his heart, Sir Tuile turned back to the boy who remained grovelling at his feet.

"Lend me your ass."

"Huh?" The peasant's grovelling expression cleared up immediately as he subconsciously shuffled a metre back. For once, his eyes seemed to reflect genuine fear… and a hint of disgust.

"Huh?" Tuile looked around in confusion to see a few of his guards looking away dreadfully. Even Teil had an expression of mild surprise on his face, but he didn't seem too shocked at his father's statement.

Clearing his throat, Tuile clarified in a dignified manner. "Lend me your donkey to pull my carriage out of this ditch." The older knight watched with an annoyed frown as the peasant boy breathed out an air of relief.

As if I would ask you to lend me your ass if I ever needed it. These peasants fail to know their place.

"Yes, my lord," the boy replied at last, relief evident in his tone. With deft movements, he quickly tethered the animal to the carriage before joining the men pushing the vehicle out.

Half a minute later, the carriage was dislodged and the boy began to untether his donkey.

Giving the peasant boy one last glance, Sir Tuile waved dismissively. "You are free to go."

"Thank you, my lord," he said with a bow before turning to leave.

Tuile still felt uneasy but he suppressed the feeling. Everything was settled easily. Nothing went wrong, right? I am just being paranoid.

Just as the older knight was reflecting, a strong draft blew, rustling the leaves in the woods around as well as carrying a bit of filth into his eyes.

Shit, he swore as he rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. But just as he was about to urge Teil to drive the horse regardless, he heard a baffled exclamation behind him.

"C-clyde?!"

Turning around, Tuile saw one of his yeomen staring at the peasant boy with shock in his eyes. The peasant's shawl appeared to have been blown away by the wind, fully exposing his rather handsome features.

The peasant boy calmly stared at the fellow who shouted before glancing around at the rest of his men, a few of whom seemed to recognise him.

The boy shook his head with an audible sigh before glancing up at the moonlit sky.

"Fuck." he swore out loud.