There was a crispness in the cool morning breeze. The cloudless sky was heralding the arrival of fall at the end of the third month of summer. The dew drops on the yellowish grass were glittering like pearls in the sweet morning sun. They were heading to the port city of Danver. The youngest of the males in this group of forty was fifteen-year-old Evran. His peer in the group was only Lord Robert's other squire, Arthur. Even among Lord Robert's squires at New Castle he was Evran's closest friend, and partner in boyish mischiefs.
They were happy and excited about the trip. Lord Robert did not usually go anywhere with such a large party. Only when there was a tournament did he leave New Castle with his squires. But he did not attend the feasts or any other festivities of those tournaments. Neither Evran nor Arthur accompanied him to the tournaments he attended outside Normania, either in Celecia or in Gothia. Eldest of the squires had the privilege of accompanying him at that time. It wasn't long since Evran and Arthur became the eldest of Lord Robert's squires. As a result, they rarely had the opportunity to be with him outside of New Castle.
Their horses were trotting along the road of the Yellow Meadow. First up was chunky 'Short Tom' Forlon, head of New Castle's Men at Arms, carrying the banner of House Clyde. The ancient glory of House Clyde seemed to be reflected on his fifty-year-old face. In one hand he held the reins of his sorrel mare, and in the other firmly held the white and red banner of House Clyde. The blue crown on the red crest proclaimed their allegiance to the ruling dynasty of Normania, House Titon. On the white ground below stood the golden lion, the sigil of House Clyde, rampant and aggressive. Woven beneath it in golden thread was House Clyde's words, "We hunt in pride with pride." The Duchy of Danelaw in the western part of the Kingdom of Normania was ruled by House Clyde for three hundred years. Before that, they held the ancient castle of Lares under the kings of House Cielc for many years, as their loyal bannermen. In Scholar Roli’s room, Evran read in an ancient scroll that, the most prominent among the clans that settled on this island in the north of the Seleonia continent following the great Darren Cielc during the Norman Conquest was the Clan Clyde. In the course of time, the lion's pride gradually decreased in number in conflicts and struggles. The clan was gone long ago. And then only three male members of House Clyde's line were alive.
Duke Robert Clyde, the head of House Clyde, rode behind his standard-bearer. He was riding a black destrier in a serious and pensive state. Even though he was not yet forty, anyone by looking at his face would think he was close to fifty. The long face and gray eyes were manifesting his ancient Narman noble lineage. Looking at the well-formed shoulders and his body, anyone could tell that he was a fierce knight. 'Midnight ', the horse bearing this huge knight, was itself bigger than any other destriers. On the battlefield or in tournaments, any knight and his horse would break at first sight when they saw Lord Robert on the back of Midnight. Any knight and his steed on the battlefield or in a tournament staggered at the first sight of Lord Robert on Midnight's back.
Evran remembered when Lord Robert had first visited their village, Ashdown Hill to bring him to New Castle. That day was a dull afternoon of the third month of fall. The leaves of the giant ash tree for which their little village on a hill was named Ash Down Hill were turning brown in anticipation of winter. He saw the duke for the first time when he was returning home after playing with his friends. He was getting down from his horse, and his father was kneeling and kissing his hand. His father, Elmore, was the former kennel master of the kennels of the previous Duke, Lord Martin Clyde. He was expert at taming wild dogs and wolves. Evran heard in New Castle that everyone said his loyalty to House Clyde was like that of a dog or a wolf. But a few months after Evran's birth, he left New Castle and moved to his village with his wife and infant child.
The duke, nearly seven feet tall and with a battle-scarred face, seemed like a giant to him. The trimmed, short golden beard on his face could not cover his scars. Rather, it was looking uglier. He was saying something to his father. In response, he heard his father shake his head and plead, “Please, my Lord, I pray to you. When Evran was born, I felt it was time to settle down in my family. It was time to return to my village. So, I left New Castle. We people of these hills and forests are hunters and archers from generations. We don't have the skill and the chivalry of a knight running through our vein. Please, let my son grow up here, with his loved ones, with his pack. A lone wolf can’t survive in the wilderness."
Smiling, Lord Robert reassured his father, “Elmore, how could you have saved my life from the blades of the enemy at the battle of the Ox Cross if you had not had valor in your blood! I am forever indebted to you. And that debt will be partially repaid if I can give your son a good future as a hero. As my square he will learn directly from me. Then, when he is knighted, I will bestow upon him the barony of this village and its vicinity.”
None of his father's arguments could sway the duke. The next day when the duke was returning to his castle at New Castle, Evran was riding beside him on a flea-bitten pony.
Next to the Duke was Lord Wilhelm Clyde, riding a fine silver palfrey. He was the youngest among their three brothers. His appearance and disposition were in stark contrast to the other two brothers of House Clyde, Lord Robert and Sir Harris. Although quite tall, he looked like a cub rather than a lion compared to his brothers. Instead of House Clyde's long face, which the other Norman lords called ‘Horse face’, he inherited the features of his Rumelian mother. He was a handsome man with a medium, round bright face. The golden facial beard was short and trimmed. His face was always smiling. Evran did not remember ever seeing him get angry or misbehave with anyone. Where Lord Robert loved war and tournaments, Wilhelm loved banquets, music and hunting. When he walked through the garden of New Castle in his silk robes, even the angels of heaven seemed less beautiful than he did. Men desired his friendship and women yearned for his company. Even though he was twenty-seven years old, he was still not married for some reason. Although not a warrior like his two elder brothers, his brain was sharper. Lord Robert once said that in whole Normania, only Walrus Black, King Henry III's royal jester equaled Wilhelm in intellect. By profession, he was the royal spymaster of Normania. Although that was not suitable for nobles like him, Lord Wilhelm enjoyed the role. He spent at least six months a year at the Titon royal court in the capital Tow's Mouth. He also had his own inn in the capital.
That day Lord Wilhelm did not wear the golden robes of his house, unlike the Norman custom. Rather, he was dressed in silver, which matched the color of his palfrey perfectly. The beauty of this silver-colored horse with soft and silky snow-white mane, brought from Emiriya was like a reflection of Lord Wilhelm's god like elegance. Though Lord Wilhelm did not come willingly on this trip, he kept his displeasure hidden behind his smile. Earl Godfrey of Danver invited the members of house Clyde, the ruling house of Danelaw, and his liege lords on his thirty-fifth name day. His intention behind the invitation was to offer the hand of his younger sister Henrietta to Lord Wilhelm.
Evran saw Henrietta with Earl Godfrey at New Castle last year at the new year's festival. Rather than the elegance and beauty of a woman, she has the behavior of a male warrior in her. she defeated the best wrestlers among Lord Robert's men in the wrestling competition at that festival. Maybe she was better suited as a knight in Lord Robert’s army than as the wife of his handsome brother.
Lord Wilhelm had other reasons for his displeasure. House Percy was ennobled into the aristocracy only two generations ago. Earl Godfrey's grandfather, Harald, was an ordinary sailor. Then he gradually invested in the spice business and became a rich merchant. Lord Rickard, Lord Robert's grandfather, seeing his talent, entrusted the small port of Danver to him. That dyeing port regained its life in his hands. Danver became one of the largest ports in Normania and the heart of Danelaw’s trade and economy. And as a reward, the newly founded House Percy got the status of Earl of that emerging port city. So, Lord Wilhelm had every reason not to agree to this match. But Lord Robert had a different point of view. As the third son of the house, it was difficult to find marriageable beautiful brides from the old noble houses for him. In Normania, the eldest son of the family received the inheritance. The rest of the sons received only a small amount of money from the estate. An old noble lord, therefore, would not usually betroth his daughter to a second or third son. They could only marry the daughter of a wealthy merchant or in the families that had just risen to the nobility.
Not far behind them in a lavish coach pulled by four dray horses were Lord Robert's lady wife, Elizabeth of House Godslamb of Northrob, the most beautiful woman of Normania, their daughter Roseline, and Robert's old aunt lady Catherine. Lady Elizabeth was enjoying the countryside, looking through the window. Sometimes was laughing at jests thrown by Lord Wilhelm and her cheeks were turning red like an apple and her teeth were gleaming like pearls. Evran often used to look unblinkingly at her deep blue eyes. Her beauty reminded him of those princesses from the fairy tales, kept captive by an evil dragon in its dark castle.
Lady Elizabeth's carriage was being escorted by four armed guards, two on each side, followed by Evran, on a gray rouncey from behind. Her ladies-in-waiting and maids were coming in a four wheeled wagon behind them. Then came some of the household knights and men-at-arms of House Clyde. And, at the tail of this party was Arthur on his chestnut rouncey, overseeing the wagons and servants. Both of them wore leather tunics over cotton tops matching the golden color of House Clyde, Lord Robert's sigil, the roaring lion embroidered on the chest according to Norman custom, linen trousers in the bottom part of their body, a short sword hanging from their waist, and leather boots on their feet. Arthur was taller than Evran, but of a leaner build. On his face was visible the greenness of the marshes of Danelaw. His green eyes twinkled with excitement. Evran on the other hand was of medium height but healthier. His skin had a slightly brownish tinge, and his eyes were gray, deep and curious. Even though he belonged to a common family from Ashdown Hill, his face would have been mistaken for that of a nobleborn. Arthur was quick and agile in combat practice. Evran, on the other hand, was steady and opportunistic. So, Arthur's favorite weapon was the spear, and Evran's the long sword.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The men were singing in unison the old folk song of Danelaw, "Of the happy days." Behind their backs hung the lion-painted shield of House Clyde. They marched, singing in a voice full of compassion and clanging their helmets held in their hands by their swords or spears in rhythm.
“Happy days were when your hand was by my side,
Signs of your love, my features beautified.
Happy days were when your words crucified,
Then my soul resurrected, upward glide.
Happy days were when the wine, we glorified,
God was with me while by my side was my bride.
Happy days were when your candle was my guide,
And my heart, like a moth, your flames would ride.
Happy days were when amidst knowledge and pride.
The drunken laughter was dignified.
Happy days were when we drank from the cup in our stride,
And told tales of the things that we tried.”
The Yellow Meadow seemed to be soaked with the anguish of that longing lover of the song. Evran’s eyes filled with tears. Not for an old lover, but for their small wooden house in Ashdown Hill. It had been eight years since he departed from his family. Lord Robert said that only after receiving knighthood did a squire receive leave from his lord or knight. Before that, the test of restraint, discipline and patience had to be given. Lord Robert was kind but strict when it came to discipline.
Evran was lost in his thoughts, before he was brought back to the present by Arthur’s roaring laughter. He called out from behind, taunting him, "Look ahead, Evie, before you and your horse both lose your balls."
Hearing Arthur's jest, the soldiers and servants laughed loudly. At first his cheeks turned red with shame, but soon mischief flashed in Evran's eyes. He turned his horse and ran towards Arthur. Arthur also spurred his horse to elude Evran. He ran from the back of the group and came to the very front and almost caught Arthur. Then he jumped on Arthur to throw him off the horse. Arthur, realizing his intentions, tried to jump down but couldn’t. He got late because one of his feet got stuck in the horse's stirrup. Finally, Evran fall on him and both of them got tangled and fell in the mud of the road. They smeared mud on each other and started laughing.
"The two of them are just like two brothers growing up together." Evran heard Lord Robert say, looking at Lord Wilhelm with a smile. They stopped their horses and watched them.
"At least they are better than us if we give an example of brotherhood." Lord Wilhelm quipped with his usual smile. “Yes, because they are both equal in courage and valor. Not like us- One is a fearless warrior and the other is a charming coward who loves to hide behind women's gowns.” Lord Robert sent the sarcasm rudely back to Wilhelm. He ground his teeth and looked straight at his brother’s eyes, "Since you were old enough to hold a sword, you never took lessons from your elder brothers or rode a with them. While your two elder brothers took part in crusade, battles and tournaments, you enjoyed feasts and the company of women. Insulting your lineage, you spent money in the business of taverns and brothels. And then you took the charge of a spymaster. And yet you taunt me!”
"Because our elder brother Lord Robert, the great hero of Normania, overshadowed us like a mountain. He has inherited the seat of or father, ancestral sword, banner of our house, and all other things by right. He rode the best horse in New Castle, the best armor given to him, he took the fairest beauty in the kingdom for his wife. And we grew like weeds beneath that banyan tree.” Lord Wilhelm continued with a mocking smile on his face. The muscles in his smiling face didn't even move a bit, “Harris wanted to be like you, but when he saw that the lion’s share of the glory and fame couldn’t reach him past the Lion of House Clyde, he made his choice. And so did I.”
Seeing Lord Wilhelm's displeasure, Lord Robert softened his tone, "I do not deny that I have the privilege of being the eldest son of the clan, but I did not deprive you of that, Willy." When you marry Lady Henrietta, I will give you the barony of Mohrsville. With the money Earl Godfrey will give you as dowry, you can build a keep of your choice. From where you and your descendants after you will rule forever.”
"And yet you will not declare me your heir. And when you try to have children again after two years, if a son isn’t born, you will relieve Harris from his duty as a Royal Guard and make him your heir. But in your opinion—I know that—the future of House Clyde will not be left in the hands of a weakling. I refuse to take your gracious gift of that swamp of Mohrsville.” Wilhelm said as he turned his horse back. "And even my horse won't fuck that half male bitch of House Percy."
Coming out of the mud, Evran saw Lord Wilhelm halted beside Lady Elizabeth's carriage. His mood was cheerful again. Lady Elizabeth's soft voice and laughter could be heard from there.
"The night of the clay! Where did you get such a nice armor made with mud?” Lord Wilhelm laughed at him. "Looks like some peasant girl has challenged you to a love fight in her paddy field on the way."
Lady Elizabeth and Lady Catherine also laughed at Wilhelm's words. His cheeks became red with shame. He lowered his head.
"Poor boy! You also forgot to joke after staying with our beloved Lord Bob." Wilhelm patted him on the shoulder. "Go clean up quickly. Your Lord needs you.”
In no time, Short Tom's horn blown. The horsemen in front of the party had stopped by that time. Evran looked up and saw Lord Robert waving his hand at him. He galloped towards him in that muddy state. Lord Robert's solemn face became solemner. Even in that temperate weather, drops of sweat were visible on his forehead. Lord Robert took off his gloves and gave them to him. Then he ordered, "Tell the servants to make camp here under the shade of that tree. We will have lunch here.” Evran sensed a tinge of worry and fatigue in his voice, "And bring my wine." Evran silently nodded. Then he sighed and walked towards the servants. Apart from Lord Robert's strength, bravery, loyalty, honor, and all those good qualities, this one was his bad habit. He was a reckless drinker. Even though Evran never saw him get drunk and lose his balance, when he lost his temper or was depressed, he used to drink ceaselessly, forgetting everything.
When they resumed their journey after resting for a while after lunch, the sun was slowly tilting to the west. Houses and crop fields were decreasing. Once they reached the edge of the forest, Mohr’s wood, no more curious peasants were to be seen gazing inquisitively at their liege lord's party or young peasant girls snickering at the soldiers. The fallen leaves of the first month of fall were crumbling under their feet on the forest path. The rest of the party was totally silent. The horsemen were beginning to drowse on horseback, and the men at arms were walking forward with their sleepy eyes in the afternoon sluggishness. It was the second day of their journey. At such a speed, they would reach the abandoned fort Old Castle by evening. Then it would take them three more days to reach Danver. Evran looked around and observed their party. Lord Robert was riding with half-closed eyes on Midnight's back without caring much for the rest. There was no need for much caution as there was no fear of bandits on the road of Danelaw.
"Let's go for a race." Evran drew Arthur's attention.
"Lord Robert may scold us if we leave the party now." Arthur hesitated. "Don't you see, he's not in a good mood!"
"If he says something, we’ll say we went scouting." He assured.
After a moment of hesitation, Arthur galloped after him. By that time, Evran had advanced quite a bit. Crossing the stone bridge in front, jumping over the canal, they raced forward laughing on the forest path.
Sunset saw their swords and spears stained with blood when the rest of their party found them near the broken wall of the Old Castle. Their bodies were wounded in many places. There were several dead wild dogs lying around.
"What new trouble did you cause?" Lord Robert asked anxiously.
“My Lord, this old man and his companion were attacked by a pack of wild dogs. We managed to save him. But his comrade died fighting.” Evran pointed backwards with his head bowed.
Arthur grabbed the rescued man with both hands and brought him forward. He was aged above seventy. His ragtag cloak was torn off. A dog took a big chunk of flesh from his right shoulder. The wound in the chest was worse. Blood was oozing out from it.
"He won’t last long." Evran feared.
"He looks like a man from Emiriya." Robert was surprised. "What is this old man doing here so far from his own country? Did he tell you anything?"
“He was calling for help in celician. We haven't had a chance to ask anything yet." Evran answered.
"Call our scholar first. We must stop his bleeding.” Lord Robert ordered.
"There is no need for that, Prince." Groaning, the old man interrupted Robert in celician. "I came from Al Qahira. I was a Hakim of Bait Al Hikma in Al Qahira. I was wandering on Seleonian continent with a special purpose.”
As he spoke, a lump of black blood came out of his mouth with a cough. When Robert went to catch him, he stopped him with his hand. He continued to say, "I have traveled around all the lands of Seleonia for years but have failed. In the end, I came to this island. But….”
The old man's heartbeat stopped before he finished. Arthur closed his lifeless eyes. Short Tom brought the bag of the old man in front of Lord Robert. There were a few silver coins, a torn blanket, and a very carefully kept scroll. In his companion's bag were some foods, clothes, and some papers with maps drawn on them.
His companion's bloodstained sword lay next to his corpse. Lord Robert asked to bring it up. Evran picked it up from the ground and wiped the sword with a piece of cloth. Then began to examine it. It was an Emiriyan curved sword. But its head was not pointy and as narrow as other swords, but broadened and was split in two. Evran couldn’t identify the metal of the sword. But he realized that it was a much better metal than common steel. Lord Robert handed over the scroll to him.
“Read what is written in it. Then arrange the funeral for the old man. We will spend the night here inside Old Castle tonight.” He ordered them.
Evran opened the scroll as his fingers trembled. It had something written in Aramaic. Aramaic was the sacred language of both the Trinitarian and Masharet religions. Both Evran and Arthur took early lessons in that language from Roli, the lord's scholar at New Castle. So, he had no difficulty in reading. Evran began to read the text with a trembling voice –
“𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧,
𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠;
𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧,
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠.”
Then the last line was not written in rhythm: “And then, the war of the North shall end, and the war for the world shall begin.”