The Greylands: Volume I

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The Greylands: Volume I Page 5

by Susan Skylark


  Chapter 1

  The rain-battered traveler approached the inn on a dark autumn night, a faint glimmer of firelight and the sounds of singing and murmured speech escaped through the open door. A stable boy took the reins of the black mare and led her away into the darkened stable. The man went into the inn, found a secluded corner, and sat down. A serving girl brought him a mug of the local ale, a loaf of bread, and a bowl of indifferent stew. He glanced around the room as he chewed thoughtfully. A few of the locals were glancing his way hopefully. A stranger always meant news, good or bad it was always welcomed in such a distant corner of the world. He finished his meal and caught the eye of one of the more persistent glancers. The man smiled and showed a mouth missing several teeth, but he seemed friendly enough. He walked over and sat down next to the stranger.

  “What brings you to a place like this?” asked the local in a drawling slur.

  “Just passing through,” said the stranger.

  “You cannot pass through here to anywhere,” laughed the local, “this is as close as you can get to nowhere without falling off the edge of the map.” Several heads nodded assent to this obvious statement.

  “Let us just say I want to see the world and have an adventure or two before I grow too old and sensible to do aught except walk behind a plow,” answered the stranger. Several heads smiled and bobbed with mirth; they had been young once it seemed. The stranger then regaled them with enough news and rumors to satisfy their curiosity. As the night wore on, even the most dedicated drunks gave up and went home, leaving the stranger alone in the common room. The innkeeper offered to show his only guest to his room, but the stranger wanted to check on his horse first. The innkeeper said they had as fine a stable as anyone could want, but he could do as he pleased.

  In the stable, the man found the mare. She seemed comfortable enough but he knew it was hardly fitting for her. She snorted in exasperation but seemed to accept her current circumstances, if only because he thought she must. “There, there, old girl,” he said smilingly, “we shall not be here long. You have endured far worse and you know it. Do the best you can and I will try to make it up to you. If it is any consolation, my room is not much better than your stall.” The mare made a noncommittal sound but seemed satisfied.

  “Why are you talking to your horse, sir?” asked the stable boy from the hayloft, “it is not as if she could understand you. Sides, we got the best stable in these parts.”

  “I am sure you do,” laughed the man, thinking that they probably had the only stable in the area. “We have traveled many long miles together and sometimes she is the only one I have to talk to for days on end. You should be sleeping, and not eavesdropping on a poor, wandering man.”

  “Do not tell my boss!” declared the boy, “this is the only thing I have going for me. If he hears about it, he will turn me out in the cold.”

  The man grew serious and took a closer look at the boy. He must be around fifteen or sixteen but he was short and thin for his age. Whatever the boy received in exchange for his services, he certainly was not well fed. “Do not worry, I will not say anything to get you in trouble,” said the man. The boy seemed to visibly relax. “You do not have any family or friends you can go to?” asked the man.

  A look of dismay crossed the boy’s face. “My ma tossed me out as soon as I turned sixteen. Said I was old enough to fend for myself. Not that I can blame her. I got seven younger siblings she has got to feed. I do not know who my dad is. The innkeeper lets me sleep in the loft and eat any scraps from supper as long as I take care of the horses,” said the boy.

  The man’s heart was moved for the boy and before he knew what he was saying said, “I might have use for an errand boy. How would you like to come with me? I cannot pay much, but the rations would be better. There are many nights when I must sleep rough, but it cannot be much worse than a hayloft.” A grin split the boy’s face and he readily agreed.

  The man returned to the inn and slept for what was left of the night. As he settled his bill, he told the innkeeper he would be taking the boy with him. The man shrugged his shoulders and grumbled under his breath about good help being hard to find, but said nothing anyone was meant to hear. The man went to the stable to fetch his horse and found the boy waiting with a small sack slung over one shoulder and a large grin on his face. The mare was saddled and ready to go.

  “First,” said the man, “we need to find you a pony and some proper clothes.” They wandered off towards the village and found a scruffy looking pony that the owner was willing to part with for only a small fortune. They also found a set of clothes that fit the boy much better than his current rags. After acquiring a few more essentials, they set off. The mare glanced distastefully back at the pony and the boy and gave the man a significant look. He patted her neck in reassurance and she shook her head in exasperation. The boy noticed none of this. To him, the pony might as well have been a great charger and his new clothes a shining suit of armor. He was off on an adventure and anything could happen. The man wondered what on earth he was to do with his newly acquired companion. The mare snorted, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

  That night they camped in a small clearing alongside a stream. The boy was exceedingly desperate to please and quickly went about setting up camp and even volunteered to try catching a few fish. He was quite adept as a fisherman, and within an hour had several small trout roasting over a cheery fire. During supper, the boy glanced around for the mare. She was nowhere to be seen. The pony grazed contently, hobbled nearby, but the horse was gone. When questioned about it, the man said she came and went as she pleased and she would be back before dawn. In the morning, they broke camp, and as predicted the mare was ready and waiting. As they broke camp, the man handed the boy a bow and a collection of arrows that he had acquired on their trip to town. The boy glanced at them with a mix of joy and trepidation. The man said, “it might not be a bad idea if you learn the use of a bow as we travel.” The boy smiled excitedly, though he had never shot at anything save the occasional rabbit. As they traveled, the boy practiced his archery and proved to have a natural talent. The terrain became steeper and the ground stonier as they headed north and east.

  Eventually they came to a small city and within stood a towering castle. The town stood within a high, stonewall and though the gate stood open, guards carefully questioned those trying to enter. Outside the walls, a veritable maze of houses, shops, and inns had grown up over the ensuing centuries, apparently the population had well outgrown the original confines of the city. As man and boy approached the gate, the guards glanced at the man, gave a questioning look at the boy, and then looked again at the man who nodded; they were allowed to pass without further incident. The guards continued to question those waiting to enter, but said nothing to the man; the boy wondered at this. They followed a street that climbed towards the castle. Throughout the city people seemed relatively happy and contentedly went about their work with a gaiety that puzzled the boy. People seemed to simply enjoy the myriad mundanities of life and never once seemed to wonder what it was all about or why things were not better. They approached the outer wall of the castle and found the gate heavily guarded, but the guards only saluted the man as he rode past, glancing questioningly at the boy, but let both pass unhindered.

  Immediately inside the gate they entered a courtyard and the boy’s heart leapt into his throat. There in full regalia, mounted upon a great horse, sat a Knight of the Order of the Unicorn. He set his heels to his pony’s sides, pulled the small dagger from his belt, and with a cry of utter anguish charged at the mighty horse and the man who sat upon it. The charger turned his shoulder towards the approaching pony and hardly seemed to notice as the poor beast bounced off the great shoulder. The mounted man jumped down and in one smooth motion drew his sword and placed his foot upon the chest of the fallen boy. As he drew back to lop the boy’s head off, steel met ste
el. The stranger had leapt into the fray and his sword now held the knight’s weapon at bay.

  “You will not spill innocent blood in the heart of Astoria,” the stranger said quietly. “Put up your blade!” Noticing the guards approaching with bared steel the knight reluctantly complied. “Boy! you will go with the guards and we will discuss this later,” said the man. The boy meekly allowed the guards to lead him away but gave a final look of hatred to the man who had just tried to kill him.

  “The boy’s life belongs to me,” sneered the knight.

  “His life belongs to no man, but the Master,” said the stranger.

  “I claim it by right of the Order. Any who lays a hand upon a member of my Order shall surely perish. You are lucky I do not claim yours as well for hindering me,” scoffed the knight.

  “I do not know why he attacked you, but I shall find out and he will be dealt with according to our laws,” said the stranger, “you will not lay a hand on him and he will not bother you again. See to your business and be gone.”

  “Your laws!” scoffed the knight, “there are no laws, save those of the Order. The laws of mere men such as yourself are nothing but guidelines to keep the peasants in line. True justice is maintained only by the Order. This is not finished.” A servant appeared, bowed to the knight, and led him deeper into the castle.

  The stranger led the mare quietly to a corner of the courtyard where several servants stood waiting. He removed her harness and baggage, handing them to the waiting servants while another opened a side door and she walked out onto a wide, grassy lawn.

  He then made his way to the guardhouse near the gate where the boy sat weeping. As the stranger approached, the boy tried to shrink into the wall against which he sat. The guards left them alone and resumed their posts. “Well?” asked the stranger.

  “He..he…he was one of that awful group of men…that…that…defiled my mother,” finished the boy. “She was but a girl of sixteen and they came riding through the village and proclaimed that they were better than everybody and saw her alone in a meadow with her father’s sheep and… Well she got pregnant and everybody said it was her own fault and she had me and no decent man would have her after that and she has got eight kids by as many men and none of them care,” the boy sobbed, “I was only trying to avenge my mum.”

  The man put an arm around the sobbing boy and drew him close. “Do not worry, we will not let him hurt you, but revenge is not the same as justice. If you wish to stay here, you must learn many things, including forgiveness. Your family has suffered greatly under the injustice of the world, but that does not mean you may ‘avenge’ every grievance you have suffered. You must learn that anger and hatred are not the appropriate way to deal with suffering and wrongs. Forgiveness, mercy, and grace must be foremost in your mind and heart else you will be no different than he and the rest of his Order. Justice has a place, but only after careful thought and contemplation, and it must never be carried out in hatred or anger. Even justice must be done with love. Love meaning you are doing what is best for every person involved, even if it hurts. You must learn these things if you wish to stay here. If you wish for revenge rather than justice, then you may take your pony and some provisions and ride to wherever your fate takes you, but you cannot remain here.”

  The boy sniffled a bit as he looked up into the gentle eyes of the stranger and said, “I never had a dad, but I hope he would have been like you. I would like to stay if I can. I do not rightly understand everything you have said but I would like to try and learn it, if I must. I do not want to be like that man and his fellows.”

  “Good,” said the stranger, “then I shall take you to meet the Lady.” They both stood and together walked back to the courtyard where a servant waited patiently. The servant led them deep into the castle and in a small inner chamber they found a very beautiful yet ancient woman. They both bowed deeply and took seats facing her.

  “Welcome home Tristan,” she said. “And welcome also young man, but I hope you will not be attacking anyone else within the walls of my keep,” she added with a smile. The boy blushed crimson. “You have been away a long time,” she continued, “I hope your journey has not been in vain.”

  “I have learned much, Lady,” he said, “though little to cheer the heart.”

  “And what of the boy?” she asked.

  “I am not sure exactly,” said the man, “I came across him at an inn some days ago and before I knew what I was saying had asked him to come with me. As far as things go, he is as good as an orphan. At worst, he is far better off here than where he was. Perhaps there is more to it, but it will take greater minds than mine to see what. It just felt right to bring him along.”

  “Very well,” said the Lady, “we shall see what becomes of him in the days to come. Young man, as long as you are here, you will be expected to do as you are told and be respectful of all people, including apparent enemies. You are expected to attend lessons on everything from proper grammar to swordsmanship; you will be assigned a number of chores as well. You will receive room, board, and a small allowance as long as you stay. You may leave at any time, but if you misbehave and do not correct said behavior when called upon it you will be dismissed. Will you stay or go?” The boy stared at her for a few moments and then said he would happily stay, it sounded a much better arrangement than he could find elsewhere, especially the sword part. The Lady smiled and clapped her hands. A servant appeared and led the boy to the room that had been prepared for him. She and Tristan talked long into the night about his journey and the evil tidings in the world.

  “When shall I see this Lady of yours?” demanded the Knight.

  “You shall see her as soon as may be. You did not send word that you were coming as common courtesy demands so you cannot expect to see her on such short notice. Besides, she is currently occupied with an urgent matter of business,” said the patient servant to the man from the Order, “perhaps you would like to go to your room and freshen up or perhaps a bit of supper would please you while you wait?”

  The man scoffed at the servant and continued his pacing in the small parlor in which he found himself. No other country or king would dare keep a member of the Order waiting! He could not believe the effrontery of this small kingdom on the border of nowhere. But the time was drawing near when the Order would hold sway over all the kingdoms within their reach. This insignificant Burg and its impertinent Lady would soon feel the yoke of the Order and cower in fear at the merest hint of his wrath. Neither could he believe the temerity of that scruffy stranger in staying his hand when that cur of a boy had dared attack him and justly deserved to have his head separated from his shoulders. Where was the respect and welcome due a man of his standing within the Order? His masters would hear of this and an example must be made that the fear of the Order might be maintained. The servant drew up a chair and prepared for a long night of watching the man pace.

  Some time in the small hours of the morning, the wearily pacing man was led into a small chamber in which sat a very old yet regal woman. He had not meant to bow, but something in the sheer presence of the woman summoned respect he never meant to give. He had meant to overpower her with awe and fear and scorn her with his wrath, but he felt like a small boy caught by his mother in some small act of disobedience. The woman smiled as if she knew his mind and with a hand beckoned him to come forward.

  “Lady,” he began, “I have traveled over many leagues to this forsaken city of yours. The Order of the Unicorn has mandated that every city, province, and kingdom must have a representative of the Order in place to settle minor disputes and to relieve the local authorities of the tedium of maintaining law and order. Only the most important matters need be brought before the local authorities and by doing so, we wish only to serve the common good and those who serve justice and peace.”

  Instead of hearing him with reverent awe, his statement was greeted wit
h laughter that was dangerously close to giggling. “You have no idea who we are?” asked the Lady, “of old we have been the standard for law and justice and everything peaceful and true. Are we completely forgotten? Is even our legend a secret in these troubled times?”

  “I know,” said the man in consternation, “that you are a standoffish people and have never hailed king nor lord but have dwelt quietly in your little valley far away from the dwellings of other men. Were you warlike you would soon enough have been dealt with by greater nations, but as you seek only your own ends and this outpost on the edge of forever is of no interest to anyone but yourselves you have been left largely in peace. But the time is coming when no rogue state or city will be allowed to follow its own course. All must unite and fight together the great evil that is brewing in the world. You must unite with the rest of the world under the banner of the Unicorn or you will be cut off and destroyed. We are your only chance of survival.”

  The old woman seemed lost in thought, “it seems only a few short years ago that we were known in all lands as purveyors of knowledge, wisdom, and justice. Now we must act in secrecy but our presence is no less vibrant in the world, though we have dwindled of late. Our span of years is thrice that or more of other men, but can the years have so swiftly passed us by? We have dwindled not only in number but also in memory and significance. These are grave tidings indeed. We are failing in our quest. We must come out of the shadows and renew our efforts to reach the lost and hopeless! A great evil you say? Yes, a great evil indeed lurks out there, greater than even you can imagine. But the evil I am most concerned with is our laxity of late. We have fallen into myth and decay out of a fear for our own lives. But no more! We must break out of this coffin in which we have entombed ourselves, shake off the dust, and rock the foundations of the world once more!” The man was thoroughly confused as to what the old woman was musing about, but apparently it had her greatly excited. Perhaps she was senile. She seemed to have forgotten he was even there. “Angbar!” she cried as a servant shuffled in, “call a General Assembly immediately! Everyone is to attend, even the newest recruit. Rouse those lazy sluggards from their beds. I do not care if it is not yet dawn.”

  “Yes Lady,” said the confused servant as he bowed and dashed out of the room.

  She then directed her hawk-like gaze at her guest and continued, “thank you young man for these tidings that have roused this slumbering old bear into action. As for your offer of maintaining peace and justice within the bounds of my land, I thank you but we have been doing quite well without you for the last few millennia and I think will be doing quite well when your Order has passed out of memory.”

  “But,” started the man, “it is not a request or an offer. It is a mandate by the High Council of the Order of the Unicorn. You must!”

  “I must nothing!” laughed the old woman, “I doubt any of your high and mighty council has ever even glimpsed a unicorn. Yet you have the audacity to order around a woman who has seen The Unicorn and received this position with His blessing. Now off with you. Go and tell all your masters how ill-used you have been. Declare war on us if you will. We have heard it all before and survived worse. I have not time to deal with your self-important schemes. I have a rabble to rouse!” With a delighted laugh she sprang from her chair and skipped off like a girl. A servant appeared and the dumbfounded man followed obediently, mounted his waiting horse, and rode off into the grey morning.

 

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