Chapter 1 - Howl

Howl - 1

It was clear to all where he had come from. And he had not come alone. A woman, blonde and young had come with him. She herself had been clothed in faded white linen, simple and plain- no jewelry nor ornament adorned her in any fashion, and her hair was worn in a long but, but days old braid- starting to come undone from the wear of each day. she had  an almost shaped face- pointed chin and fair features- but her nose was slightly crooked in the middle, and her smile gave away a small gap in the middle.

Sightless eyes were wrapped  with a blood red  strip of cloth tied about her head, covering her pale gray eyes. She was still beautiful to some degree without the band around her face, but  it was traditional for those of her order… Her boots were coated in mud, as was the hem of her long gray cloak that rest over her shoulders to keep her warm in the morning air.

The man himself, was young. No more than twenty -six at the most, with long hair that  draped over his ears, a deep burgundy color that seemed almost unnatural. Hair the color of semi- coagulated blood. It was a rare color, seen generally, only amongst those with magic in their blood. He himself was some what tall, though not unusually. He had a strong jawline, and soft looking lips, and kind and weary eyes that matched his hair in their unusual color.

He was garbed in chain-mail and armor, though it was not the rich engraved, silvery armor of the knights of the capital- it was not the  shiny well forged armor of a young lord- no. It was a plain set of armor, pale blueish gray, a blood red eye painted onto the center of his breastplate, a small sword painted as if it was piercing through the top of the eye and downward. The shield on his back strapped to him bore the same symbol. They were of the sect of witches known as the Blynd, at least she was. And he was one of their templars, their soldiers trained to defend the faithful, and to carry out their will.

Of all the kingdom, only one place remained a safe haven for the witches. Many had already begun flocking to that fortress in the west. It was known as a last resort for the persecuted- witches and men alike could go to that keep and would be out of harms path- no king nor foe of any level would dare to assault that place. Some feared the wrath of gods, others feared the power of the seers residing there, and a few remained even who respected what the witches of the Blynd faith did and stood for.

The Blynd were mostly witches, and some men, who had a desire for enlightenment. They were blind to the world they lived in - seeing instead the past present, and future of others and the world around them. They put out their eyes and gave up the world they lived in to see the world as a whole.

They taken up residence in an ancient keep that resides a fair distance into the highlands. It was said that the keep once belonged to a lord, cruel and cold. A blind woman came to him, asking him for shelter from a storm, and she was turned away by the man. she came back, three nights in a row. and on the third night, when he once more rejected her, and threatened her, she cursed him. She cursed him- saying that his first son would be blind, and then she disappeared into the night once more.

When the man’s son was born blind, the lord swore to offer shelter to all those who sought it at his gates- no matter their wealth or infirmity. To this day the keep gives shelter to all, orphan, widow, peasant, cripple, deaf, and outlaw too. Here, any may seek sanctuary- and no one may harm them there. Not even a king has tried to harm anyone within its walls… They have however waited outside them.

The witches of the faith offered aid to any who seek it. Shelter and work was given to adults and orphans a like- anyone who was not capable of caring for themselves. Men and worked to pay their way. The children  were well educated in their time there- when they hit a certain age where they can begin to work for themselves, they are given several options.

They could go on to join the  order, have their site taken and be trained in that way- or they could go on to serve in other capacities. Servants tended the blind seers day and night to keep the place running- living off the land as a result. The third option was to join the  faith in the warrior capacity.

Those joining as warriors were considered to be servants, bound for life by their training. Those taken in to train as a soldier for the faith were given marks to bear for life, symbolizing their service. They were given new names, and  taught to be amongst the deadliest of warriors. The witches and their guards did not discriminate on gender as knights did- men and women alike could join.  Those who did not meet their standards of training were sent back to work as servants instead- but that was considered a great shame…

But the guards did not all stay in the keep. The Blynd would send them out- send them where they believed they would be of the most use- telling them only a few pieces of information.. the minimal amount to keep them on the track they must follow.. these guards were not only warriors, but servants, meant to change the things the Blynd saw, or to encourage them. Everyone knew this.

So what they wondered, was why was he here?

The two rode side by side. Her horse was linked to his by a long rope- leading her and her horse alongside his as they entered the city, and passed under the main archway, and through the large gates.  His eyes wandered over the  buildings, taking in the sight of it all in a way his companion never could again. It was so different from the home he had left behind for this place. it smelled of s**t and sweat, and he could swear he smelled the scent of fear carried along in the air, a restlessness in the common men and women lingering on the streets, and uneasiness in the people watching him and the young blonde  woman.

The city was amidst great festivities. all the stalls were open, selling all they had and more, decorations were every where, laurels and wreaths, white and blue flowers, the colors of the royal house lined the rows of buildings and houses and the road.  The city was crowded, and all the while the people were drinking and making trouble in their own corners of it,  enjoying the generosity they received from the castle and her nobles- the generosity was of the likes they had not seen in years since  the king had begun his war… A war on the witches.

The red haired man looked to his companion- grateful at the least that the commoners were parting in the street for them.. he was sure it was more out of hatred for their kind, or fear more than respect they used to  command. He looked from her, to the crowd with unease, his hand resting on the pommel end of his sword at his side, and he tugged the rope that connected the two horses, forcing hers to walk closer to his own.

He rode along with her up the winding dirt road that went through the main village and town, and upward a hill, leading slowly to the keep at the top of the hill, and built into the mountain. The road progressively, though only gradually, went from dirt, to gravel, to cobble stone. it was such a transition that he had not even noticed it.

They made their way finally unto the main gate of the Kingswood keep, passing once more beneath the arch that guarded the keep, and the soldiers that stood on the battlements there. He stared up at them, solemn and unsmiling, unlike the girl beside him. She was thrilled by the noise of the city, and despite her inability to see any of it, she seemed to take it all in with more excitement than he did. He attributed this to her young age. She had not yet hit seventeen.

“Are we there?” She asked, her voice as soft to him as rose petals.  He nodded slowly, though he knew she could not see.

“Yes Ester. We are here. “ He looked around once more. Hate against the witches was widespread these days, and stretched the sympathy for their kind thin. He was here  for his own reasons, but it was also his duty to look out for her, to protect her. He was always on edge, the man saw danger in everything.  “ Wait here, I will help you down.”

He halted the horses, and slide down, metal clinking on stone when he hit the ground. He walked around to  her horse, holding his arms up to her. “ I am on your right little one, just hold out your arms, I will help you.”

When he’d gotten her down off the horse, she seemed reluctant to let go of him, holding onto his arm like it was a lead for her to follow- as if she feared she would soon be lost or forgotten should she lose the hold she had upon him.  As they began to walk away, a stable boy took the horses.

He held her arm tightly.. He knew he was welcomed here. The King himself had sent word to them, offering them safe passage should they send a representative to the tournament and festivities.. and so here he had come… But soldiers had left their post on the wall, several, and he could feel them following them. He felt the burn of many eyes upon him as they entered the keep.

Even at the feast that afternoon he had refused to take his gaze off  her for long. He seemed fearless and strong, stern and humorless, but he was on the contrary, constantly in fear. He would survey the room, then look back to her each time- watching the nobles and knights trying to speak to her- trying to get a look at her eyes under the cloth with their foolish curiosity. They did not care for the faith, but they watched them, and some went so far as to openly mock the young girl for her choice.

He remained silent most of the time. So far he had only spoken to her since they had entered the city, speaking only a few words to others, and only as needed...He had his purpose here, but it was not to make friends or to make himself a fool in the eyes of these savages. His people were at war, and these men were playing at it with their tournament. It infuriated him that life and death was such a joke to them. He had settled he would not treat this as some trivial game.

“Who are you?”

He looked to the side uncertain of the origin of what sounded like a child’s voice. He looked under the table finally, and spotted a young boy with hair dark as night and skin pale as snow under the table. He looked small, perhaps he was simply young, but the man guessed the boy was simply small for his age.

“I am called Howl.”

“Howl? What kind of name is that?”

“It was the name given me by order.”

“What order?”

The boy was unnaturally inquisitive, and it almost bothered Howl, but curiosity was not to be shunned surely.

“The order of the Blynd  faith.” He responded, pushing his bench out from the long oak table to get a better look at the boy.  “ And who are you?”

“I thought the Blynd were witches.” The boy tilted his head, ignoring entirely the man’s question. “ Aren't witches outlawed? How come you’re not?”

“I am a witch by blood yes, but I do not use magic. And your king has an uneasy peace with the Blynd.” He folded his arms across his chest, wearing a black belted tunic now, out of his armor. His hair hung a little into his face, still damp from the bath he’d taken earlier when he’d tried to wash off the last two week’s ride. “Why? would you see us hanged or disemboweled for the common entertainment? executed for our practices?” He asked, as angry and bitter about it as surely almost every witch was.

The boy looked up at him, giving it some small thought. “ No. I don't think so.”

“No?” Howl raised a thoughtful brow and  laid one arm on his thigh, and the other on the table as he bent his head forward to listen more to the child. He couldn't have been older than seven by the look of him. “Why not?”

“ To kill someone who hasn't done anything wrong is murder. Killing someone else is only justified when  it is done for the greater good.. right?” He looked up, saying it as if he meant for approval, but Howl could see the boy was firm set in his beliefs. He smiled a little for the first time in a long while as he nodded.

“Indeed. I would wish for more men with your mindset to rule this kingdom.” He said quietly, not wanting many to hear him speak in such a manner.


“Alaric!”

Howl looked up from the boy hiding under his table, seeing a finely clothed woman in a golden dress calling out for someone. She was looking downward, not up- and he concluded she was looking for a child- so his gaze drifted back to the boy under the table- who was now trying to crawl out with the clear intention of hiding somewhere else. he reached down, taking the boy by the  back of his shirt.

“Is that your mother?” he asked the child, who only nodded sheepishly.  Howl pulled the boy out from under the table, and stood up, seating Alaric on the bench.

The woman had seen, and had come over. She was dressed in a golden colored dress- small glass beads stitched up and down the ribs, and a long the hem near her breasts. she was young and beautiful to his eyes- he stepped back as she took the boys hand tightly. “ I told you not to run off Alaric.. you know better.” she whispered to him urgently before looking back to the man worriedly.

“I saw the lad hiding under the table my lady.” he bowed low to her..

“ I am no lady,” she said correcting him. “ I am your queen.”  Her eyes ran over him judgmentally, but softened after a good long look, still holding firmly on the boys small hand, not letting him go any where.  “But thank you.”

“ I did not know your grace,” He shifted, standing up straight once more, pushing his hair from his face.

“Tell me, Templar, why are you here? Why have you come to Kingswood?”

“ I cannot say your grace… I can only say that I am here to be of aid, me and my companion both.”

She looked over his expression suspiciously, not trusting him in the slightest. He could see she did not think him trustworthy- and the way she pushed her son gently behind her only strengthened that theory further.. After all her father and now her husband had continued a war against his kind, slaughtering them all; men, women, and children a like. She must have wondered what his people would do if they had her or her son at their mercy now. Nothing,  he thought to himself,  If we had you or your son you would be treated with mercy… Not slaughtered in your bed or tortured, nor hung above your cities gates as a warning…

A small smile peeled up over his lips though, as it registered to him now that her son had shown a less aggressive view on the witches. Perhaps one day he would be king. Perhaps the boy was tied to his fate. Perhaps this was why he had been sent here. He hoped. There would be no greater honor for him than to help end this war in any way he could.

“Will you be participating in the tournament sir-?”

“ I will, though I am no sir. I am simply called Howl.”

“Of course.” she nodded, recalling the fact that the men of the order were not actually knights no matter how they dressed or acted. Her face softened further and she looked from her small, fidgeting son to the man before her again.  “ good luck, Howl.” she said, giving a small curtsy and a polite nod, before tugging the shy lad away with her.

When the queen had left him once more, he thought of her, and her prince. He wondered if they were part of what Ester or the others had seen. It made him feel some small swell of hope. He wandered the hall and passed by the tables of many soldiers as he once more seated himself beside the young woman now that she was being largely left alone.

“ Anyone bother you little one?”  He asked, his voice quiet and solemn as ever.  He put his hand over hers and looked to watch as a smile crept up on her face and she reached out to find her cup.

“Oh no- they've been very polite considering. I expected so much worse you know?” She smiled more, taking a drink of wine after her slender fingers found the goblet and brought it to her mouth.

“You just tell me if any one comes to harm you Ester alright?”

She nodded, but looked at him as if she thought he was over reacting. “ We are safe here. The king has promised us this has he not? He is not known for his treachery as his uncle had been- he may hate our kind, but he has given us his word we will be safe.” she picked his hand up, pressing her lips to it gently, kissing his hand lightly before giving it a squeeze and letting go.

Author's Note

This story is still in the rough draft stages, and there are likely to be a lot of grammar mistakes, and a lot of places where I could add more. This is mostly just a place for me to post my work and see if any one is even interested in reading just another fantasy based story.