The Sleeping Saint by R. G. Oram

Author:R. G. Oram [R. G. Oram]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure, General, Science fiction
ISBN: 9781805145851
Google: rxLFEAAAQBAJ
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2023-06-27T23:00:00+00:00

Log 030

On the way to the overseer’s place, Bart and I walked through the farming estate. Just before leaving his home, Bart had put on a shirt over his vest, a knee-length jacket, and a hat that was shaped like a triangle.

The dried, maroon-coloured ground we walked on coated my new boots and uniform in seconds. He showed me where I’d be sleeping, eating and washing – “the barracks” as he called it. I noticed the lack of workers but then remembered the light was fading and it was nearly entirely dark.

‘Are you sure it’s a good time to see the overseer now? Isn’t she asleep?’ I asked.

‘I was told by the overseer that as soon as you woke up and had been treated, I was to send you to her, regardless of the time of day.’

‘Do you honestly think she’s going to be in a good mood if her sleep’s interrupted?’

‘I’m just following orders.’

We approached a humungous set of gates. I couldn’t see over them, and there was no way to climb them. I could perhaps manage with my grappling hook… which reminded me – Bart had taken my grappling hook and flame thrower when I’d been unconscious and locked them away in his safe.

Without warning, the gates opened. I heard its gears moving those huge doors outward. When the gates opened, even with the receding light, I could see an oasis. There was a garden where practically everything grew, and standing at the entrance to it was a man wearing similar clothes to Bart. When I saw him wearing a knee-length jacket like Bart, I guessed that was what separated the senior workers from the general workers. I could tell just by the way he was standing with his hands behind his back and feet close together that he was the master servant of the house. I found out his name was Horatio.

‘Follow me,’ Horatio said, not having introduced himself.

All three of us – Horatio in front, Bart in the middle, and me at the back – walked through the garden. With what light there was, I scanned the garden to see if I could spot anybody working – if Chopsy, Boxer, or Jairus were there.

When Horatio finally stopped in front of the massive doors that must have easily been ten feet high, the butler turned back to face us and, in his rigid pose, spoke. ‘Overseer Asha Pendragon lives in this residence. You are about to meet your employer. Your orders are as follows: only speak when you are spoken to, address her as Overseer Pendragon only and nothing else, choose your words carefully, and do not make snide remarks about her height. Are we clear?’

‘We understand, Horatio.’ Bart had taken off his hat and had his head slightly down.

‘Good. Now follow me.’

After we made it through the giant-accommodating doors, Horatio led us through a house that had so many rooms it could have housed a small village. I guessed most of the servants had gone to bed because we didn’t see anybody on our way to the overseer’s office.

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