Two Cats

Chapter 6

“Lord Vincent Tucat, here by invitation of the Lord Teuring,” I said, handing the formal invitation bearing the symbol of two circles interlocked and side by side to the butler, or doorman, or whoever the guy at the front of the doors to the Teuring estate was attempting to be.

He had tried to dress the part, and looked a fright with the wisps of white hair hanging about his face from his sideburns and his temples, the hair atop his head having abandoned him long ago. He gave the impression of a man who was held together by sheer act of will. Excruciatingly old, and solemn. Possibly even dead ... I didn't want to look too closely.

“Thank you, Milord,” he said in a wavering voice, taking the invitation and holding out his arm for my cloak, which I waved away. I was holding a rectangular box under my three-quarter cloak at the moment, and didn't feel like drawing attention to the fact.

My stomach was still a little twitchy with worry, as it always is during these sorts of situations. I smiled at the aged gentleman and nodded my head for him to proceed. He gave a quick nod in return, as was proper given his advanced age. I feared that if he were to try a formal bow, he'd all but fall apart right there in front of me.

We walked down a modest hall containing sparse decorations, past the coatroom and to the main dining hall, where my ancient escort introduced me to all in attendance.

I very nearly jumped out of my skin.

“The Honorable Lord Tucat!” his voice boomed out to the crowd of people before us, to my complete and utter surprise. I swear, I also saw several other nearby Lords twitch at the sheer volume being projected by this seemingly fragile old man. There may have been echoes.

Nodding at me, he turned back towards the door and left me and what remained of my shattered nerves standing at the entranceway to the keep's Great Hall.

Well, maybe 'great' is a bit generous.

My first opinion of the Hall and its contents was that it fulfilled my expectations entirely. The whole thing, from the furnishings to the place settings to the awkward looking artwork that hung from the stone walls, everything gave a clear impression of someone who is putting out their best finery and hoping that it will be enough.

A large tapestry at the back did its level best to try to cover some rather major cracks and damage to the wall behind and next to it. Most of the Lords were to my right, socializing around the stunted, irregular looking tables that had been hastily set up for cheeses and wines, all draped with cloths that did not even attempt to match the place settings set up at the main table.

I'd done my research that morning prior to showing up, once the invitation had arrived under the name of Teuring, a Lord whose territory didn't border mine. I'd never heard of him, probably due to the fact that he’d done nothing remarkable enough for me to hear about, his territory consisting of a mere two city blocks or so.

I needn't have bothered with research – it was obvious. This was not a house owned by a family that was in command of its own finances, wishing to expand. This was clearly a desperate household, barely able to sustain itself, hoping that it would be able to take advantage of some sudden opportunity to improve its situation. This was not a reasoned, calculated move. It was boldness, ambition...

Youth.

The Lord Teuring was a mere boy, possibly the same age I'd been when I'd first taken possession of my father's property and the Tucat estate. He stood near the head of the table near the far end of the room, and was engaged in conversation with an attentive young lad.

Teuring was dressed in grey and burgundy, displaying the embroidered symbol of his family – two interlocking circles - upon the breast of his tunic, which looked relatively new and yet which for some reason did not quite seem to fit him properly.