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'Who are you and what kind of help do you want from me?' The old man asks me, still looking at me intently.
'I need you to give me clothes of a peasant and a large bag to hide my own clothes in it,' I tell him the truth. 'I need to get disguised in order to punish someone really bad.'
'How do I know if that someone is really bad? Maybe you are going to rob someone's house, disguised in a peasant's clothes,' he shakes his head.
'Why would I get disguised in a peasant's clothes if I wanted to do robbery?' I ask him. 'I would be wearing my clothes and having my sword by my side. The man, who I want to punish, has kidnapped my future wife and has killed three of my men. He needs to get punished. In order to carry out my plan, I need him not to recognize that a warrior is standing in front of him.'
The old man looks at me for a long time without saying anything. In fact, he stares at me for so long, that for a second I think he has fallen asleep with open eyes. He looks at me, probably trying to think or imagine the scene that I just described to him.
Eventually, he takes his gaze away from me and slowly stands up. A tiny hope is born inside of me.
'Come with me, a kind warrior who wants revenge for his beloved girl,' he says in his shaky voice. He leads me into his small house. The house consists of one small room – apparently, the old man lives alone. The room is furnished with a bed, a table, a chair, and a small closet. There is also a small kitchen to the side.
'I also loved when I was young,' he continues talking, sitting down on his half-done bed. 'She was very beautiful.'
I nod, thinking about the time that he is taking from me.
'She had fiery red hair and green eyes,' he says dreamily, looking at the wall, as if seeing her there. 'She was very beautiful and kind. But she was kidnapped by someone who married her by force. She was taken away from me. I will never forget her. She became happy in her marriage, in the end. But my heart is still broken. Over the years I remarried to not be alone, but I can never forget her because I love her and only her.'
Touched by his story, I nod and think that I need to save Elsie as fast as I can.
'I am sorry for interrupting,' I say, clearing my throat. 'But, can you hurry up a bit? I need to save my beloved girl, and I really am short of time.'
'Of course, of course!' The old man says and gets up from his bed again, moving slowly. 'I apologize for taking your time. It is just that I did not have anyone to talk to for a long time. I am glad that you came and shared those minutes with me.'
I nod, as I watch him open the closet. He takes out a few wrinkled clothes of a peasant, and a big cloth bag.
'I hope this is enough,' he says, putting the clothes on his bed. I take the clothes – they are exactly what I wanted.
'Thank you very much,' I say. 'I will change my clothes here and will leave.'
'You are welcome, my boy,' he says, as he turns towards the kitchen. 'I did not rescue my beloved girl from that man. You do not repeat my mistake – go and save her.'
'I will!' I say loudly, as I quickly change my clothes. I put my warrior's clothes and sword in the big cloth bag and walk to the exit of the house.
'Would you like something to eat? I have some bread here,' the old man says, coming out of the kitchen.
'No, thank you. I do not have time,' I reply as gently as I can. 'Stay well and healthy – I will return the clothes when I have finished my mission.'
'You can keep the clothes, it belonged to one of my sons and he no longer needs it,' he says, coming out of the house after me. 'And I wish you success in your plans.'
I leave the village in the peasant's clothes, a big cloth bag over my shoulder. I need to hurry up. The sky is dark blue now, as the sun has set. The old man took some time, but at least he managed to help me get the clothes. Now I look like a peasant. Hopefully, Uncle Murgan will not recognize a disguised warrior.
The castle gates are in front of me. I bend over, with the bag on my shoulder, so that I will hide my imposing height. I do not want his men to think that I am such a strong and tall peasant – they will not believe it.
