The Winds of Crowns and Wolves (18 page)

The eastern gate of Leirwold led directly
into the marketplace. As the two men entered the capital, people
were just beginning to flock to the trade hub to sell various
goods. Furs, cloths, exotic spices, and secondhand weapons were
just a few of the breadth of items that could be purchased. While
the people of Leirwold strolled wearily to their posts, the two
young men were entering their last minutes of conscious. The late
night was beginning to take its toll on Neach, as he slumped over
Rine. Tyrin stood tall as ever to his right, determined to let any
weakness be squashed before it was recognized by his peer.

From the marketplace, they headed west and
Neach saw his first glimpse of a different side of Leirwold. Due
west of the marketplace district laid the slum district. The most
defined aspects of its borders were the road that cut straight
through it, in a grid fashion. In the space which wasn’t covered by
road, shanty homes were placed in disarray with fires burning all
around them. If he hadn’t known better, Neach may have believed
that the war he so feared had already begun. Lo, it seemed that
directly in the shadow of the Castle, the impoverished peoples of
the city laid claim to their poorly constructed homes.

The people of the district looked on at the
two men with empty eyes. Most of them couldn’t hope to ever own
something so lavish, and Neach was unsure whether the look he was
receiving was one of admiration or disdain.

After the slums came the university
district. By the time they reached it, the sun had risen higher and
the people of the city were now out in full force. More horses
could be seen on the roads, and in the university district students
flocked to their courses in droves. At the head of the district lay
the university library. A large circular building with stone
inlays, it hung over the district as a bastion of educational
standard, and represented all that was good about learning in the
capital city.

South of the library lay the lecture hall
which housed hundreds of students daily. The young students sat in
awe, as the Kingdom’s greatest orators espoused their informed
beliefs and understandings upon their own malleable mental form.
Like an artist with a mound of clay, the lecturers molded their
pupils into the most well informed members of the city.

As they rounded the library, Neach saw
someone out of the corner of his eye that he couldn’t have mistaken
for anyone else. The beautiful girl with whom he had danced with
during the festival earlier in the year was walking along the path,
holding a collection of books in her hands. The topics ranged from
philosophy to the study of the stars, and Neach approached her, as
he saw Tyrin moving further from his vision.

He dismounted Rine and walked toward her,
with butterflies flapping their wings rapidly inside his
stomach.

Her eyes met his and a large smile broke out
across her face. She came toward him, and they met in the middle of
the lawn, in front of the library.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fleet footed
boy,” she quipped, with a beaming smile still taking residence upon
her face.

Neach couldn’t help but blush.

“And to think I may have never seen you
again,” he retorted.

She laughed a hearty laugh and threw her
head back. Her black hair flew back, as she pushed it behind her
shoulder.

“I hate to leave things like this again, but
I have class to attend to,” the girl said, with one foot moving in
the direction of the lecture hall.

“It would be unfair of me to continue this
game so I will oblige you, my name in Jenos,” she said as she
blinked her vivid green eyes in the early morning sunlight.

The air seemed to be completely sucked out
of Neach, and for a moment he struggled to regain his breath.

“And I, am Neach,” he responded shyly.

His intention on any other day would have
been to make an impression on the girl, but the lingering
exhaustion had already taken its toll.

“With that I bid you adieu,” Jenos said
chuckling as she strolled swiftly toward the lecture hall.

For a moment, Neach was frozen in place. The
girl who had caught his eye some time earlier had an even more
beautiful name than her dazzling appearance would have
suggested.

As if violently awoken from a dream, Tyrin
appeared ahead of him shouting.

“What is it you’re doing? Come along,” he
hollered from the side of the lecture hall.

Neach obliged, but for the moment, he felt
infatuated with the idea of seeing Jenos again.

“We’re headed to Daniel’s,” Tyrin said, “The
rest of the House has agreed to convene there and discuss our
options going forward,” he concluded with the same commanding tone
that he had used upon their first meeting.

He was evidently unhappy with Neach, but he
had failed to see the girl with which he was conversing. Neach hung
silent for the rest of the journey. They headed south, through the
rest of the university district, and into the heart of the
craftsman’s district before arriving at the entrance to Daniel’s
home.

Neach reflected on the previous weeks and
how far he had come since his first visit to the home. Once a
young, naïve boy, he had arrived for a second time, hardened and
mature.

As they tied their horses outside the house,
Neach couldn’t help but be excited to see Daniel once more. Though
the circumstances may not have been ripe for joy, he felt at home
with these people. He had only met a small portion of his bloodline
to this point, and would be charged with the task of meeting each
individual soon enough.

With a hard knock on the door, it swung open
as they were ushered inside by the strange artist who was
Daniel.

He extended his hand for Tyrin and then
Neach and spoke softly, as not to wake the other residents.

“The others arrived late yesterday, you are
the final guests we have been waiting on,” he whispered.

“I trust your trip wasn’t too demanding, was
it?” Daniel asked with a smile. Even in light of the hostility
brewing just north of their current position, Daniel found a way to
derive happiness.

He led them up the stairs, toward their
quarters, and opened the door for them to enter.

They walked through the doorframe and Neach
nearly collapsed on the bed which was placed close to the door.

“I’ll be back to wake you in a few hours.
I’d suggest getting as much rest as possible for the time being, we
have much work to do,” Daniel closed the door behind him, as he
shuffled back towards his room.

Across the room, Tyrin sat atop his bed and
stared out the window. Barely capable of keeping his eyes open any
longer, Neach fell into a deep slumber and found solace in his
dreams, if only for a short time.

For in the morning they would wake; a new
dawn, a rising sun, shedding light upon the horrors that might lie
beyond the walls of Castle Leirwold.

A bird sang outside the open window, as
Daniel slipped in front of the crowd of people that had gathered
downstairs in the foyer. Murmurs resonated through the hollow halls
of the house’s interior, but they stayed hushed, almost silent.

Neach said nothing, as Tyrin stood to his
right speaking to a woman with short white hair. He was unfamiliar
with the faces that were meandering about this grand home this
morning, and was doing his best to stare straight ahead, as to
avoid awkward interaction.

After exchanging niceties with an older man
located near the front of the pack, Daniel stood atop the raised
platform that was placed at the head of the room. He was wearing a
red velvet robe and looked as if he were still weary from a largely
sleepless night. Unfortunately, sleep was hard to come by for the
members of a House who were being targeted and killed. To his left,
he heard whisperings of a younger man named Fril who had met his
demise in Balthusom on the northwestern coast of the Kingdom. This
revelation sent a ripple of fear through Neach’s body, as he
realized that Balthusom was only a short ride north of Spleuchan
Sonse.

Daniel cleared his throat and allowed a few
minutes the sounds to die out as if they were the final remaining
embers of a burning fire.

“Greetings and good tides, brothers,
sisters, dearly beloved,” he chuckled, but struggled to garner even
a single smile from the on looking crowd.

He cleared his throat again, this time to
refresh his facial features into the stoic necessity that the
situation demanded.

“We are gathered in this hallowed space
today, not only to craft a plan of action going forward, but to
remember those who have fallen to this day, fighting for our
righteous cause,” Daniel’s face grew grim as he withdraw a piece of
folded paper from the pocket of his robe.

“Hirak Dulowil, aged thirty-seven of Cyll,
Jup Weren, aged twenty-nine of Siriac, Cil Syrac, aged fourty-two
of Fletwod, Josa Fennik, aged nineteen of Siriac, Wren Cunnig, aged
twenty-four, also of Siriac, Norr Millo, aged fifty-six of Jorwel,”
as the name was read aloud, a tear welled up in the corner of
Tyrin’s left eye, “And most recently, I’m afraid, Fril Alge, aged
sixteen of Balthusom,” Daniel concluded the list and folded the
paper back up before placing it in his robe pocket.

The murmurs began again, as Fril’s name was
read from the list. There must have been a few house members who
had not heard the news yet, and the shocked expressions on their
faces told a taut story of sorrow.

“We bow our heads in disdain that their
lives were taken from them at an unfairly young age,” Daniel led
the procession and hunched himself forward.

A minute or so passed before the silence
ceased and Daniel began to speak again.

“In an effort to pragmatically handle the
situation in front of us, we will break our ranks into groups of
fifteen and reconvene in due time. With the one-hundred eighty
blood members present on this day, by my count that will result in
twelve equal groups of fifteen,” he concluded, as the large swath
of people began to congregate with those closest to them.

Neach stuck close to Tyrin, as he waded
through the people toward another boy who appeared to be their age.
They embraced each other in a strong hug, and he went down the line
of thirteen others and did the same as Neach stood behind idly.

“Brothers, sisters, this is our newest
initiate, Coinneach of Spleuchan Sonse,” a certain air lingered
over the words as Tyrin gestured toward Neach, who had begun
awkwardly fidgeting.

The first to extend their grace was a young
man name Dirk, who hailed from the village of Cyll in the
southwest. He maintained a sorrowful expression as he introduced
himself. His hair was shoulder length and fair, accompanied by
light blue eyes.

Next came a dark eyed girl by the name of
Pliss from the eastern capital of Endal. She approached him with
more conviction than Dirk and a firm handshake. Her gaze seemed to
peer into the deep catacombs of his interior emotions.

The final person to welcome Neach into the
House was a beautiful girl by the name of Vilxa. She had long
blonde hair that flowed down past her collarbones, and eyes as blue
as the southern sea. Vilxa gave Neach as shy smile as she extended
her hand. He grasped it lightly in his, and shook with little
firmness. Few words were spoken before she retreated to her
original position.

Before Neach was able to introduce himself
to other members of the group, Tyrin assumed a leadership role at
the head of the congregation. He stood on a chair, as to intimidate
the others, and project his booming voice across the expanse of
people.

“Now that we have all rekindled our old
relationships,” he said with a curious glare toward Pliss, “It is
time we get down to business. Shall we?” his words were met by a
smattering of grunts and applause.

There was a sense of guttural appreciation
for Tyrin’s leadership amongst the other members of the house,
specifically those who were around his age. Like a conductor
directing an orchestral composition, the members of the small group
watched attentively as Tyrin’s hands flew up and down and directed
their every thought and movement.

“Who here, in our illustrious coalition of
youthful minds, has the slightest idea what it is we are up against
in that bastard King and his men?” Tyrin questioned. Nervous
expressions were exchanged between the others surrounding Neach,
and not a single individual popped up to respond.

“Just as I had suspected,” he continued, his
tone growing somber yet again.

“Whilst in the Forest of Light, Neach and I
came face to face with the danger that we are confronted by. One of
the King’s men was dispatched to rid the crown of us both, but was,
unsuccessful,” he smirked a devious smirk and the audience’s eyes
grew wide.

“Friends, our time is running out in the
City of Leirwold. It is only a matter of time before Henrig
discovers our new base, just south of the castle, so we must act
swiftly, but with efficiency.”

His words were met with cheers and embraces
that seemed to raise the morale around the room. Though Neach had
no qualms about Tyrin’s confidence, he was concerned about the
mental fragility of some of his peers. Dirk seemed to physically be
shivering at the thought of fighting against the crown, while a
young boy with red hair at the back of the crowd held his head in
his hands.

“Brothers and sisters of the House Goedwig,
we must stand strong in the face of adversity. For we are the just
cause; we are the righteous beings in this cataclysmic war between
good and evil,” his words resounding with the amplification of a
thousand shouts and a loud cheer erupted.

Tyrin smiled, evidently content with the
raucous attitude he had instilled in his fellow house members. He
motioned to Neach to come forward. With trepidation, Neach shuffled
forward and found himself stood atop the platform next to
Tyrin.