Gregory straightened his tired back after dumping the wheelbarrow into the pile behind his parent’s workshop. The repeated ringing of his mother’s hammer echoed through the open doors of the large building and Gregory took a moment to catch his breath in the evening air.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and watched the sunset as it cast the distant Iron Tip mountain range in a pleasant orange light. Partridge gap, the only pass along the impressive mountain range, was already cast in deep shadow. Its deep V was barely visible from his distant vantage.
He stared at the darkened notch in the mountains and an anxious excitement welled up from his gut.
The pass was the home to the legendary Paladin’s Order. They were a relatively small group that proclaimed to be the Raven God’s direct hand in this world. They were also said to have superhuman abilities, gifted to them by the Gods to do their will. Although they never confirmed or denied their supposed abilities it was obvious that they were at least longer lived than the average person.
The compound that housed the order in Partridge Gap was also the recruiting and training grounds for the Guardsmen, the men and women that were charged with keeping the peace in the Queendom’s cities and villages.
In five more nights the training compound would open their doors and host two weeks of testing and trials for guardsmen hopefuls and he was going to be among those being tested.
He wheeled the empty cart back into the shop and toward the loud hammer falls as he thought about the coming tests and what it could mean for him and his family.
The warm air in the workshop was filled with dust so he pulled the dampened kerchief that hung around his neck up over his nose and mouth to filter out the worst of it. His mother likewise had a rag over her face as she concentrated solely on the marble statue taking shape before her.
Her normally rich brown hair was white with dust and tied up in a que at the back of her head. Sweat dotted her brow and she spared a glance at her son as he entered the shop. She stood high on a wooden scaffold with a hammer and chisel as she referenced a sheet of paper pinned to one of the posts. Switching the hammer and chisel out for a set of iron calipers from her apron she measured the statue and then with the other end of the calipers measured the reference sheet with a frown.
Gregory pushed the cart closer to the square base of the forming statue and wordlessly started shoveling rubble into his empty wheelbarrow. The hammering and chiseling soon started again and Gregory smiled behind his mask.
His mother loved sculpting and his parents had moved to Ironhold because it was one of the only nations on the continent that allowed women to work in such professions. She had learned from her father and had a natural talent for it, making her very popular with Queen Palal, the current queen that ruled the nation of Steinheim. It also kept his family busy. His mother, father, his younger brother and Gregory all worked in the shop. Either doing menial tasks like hauling away scrap marble or roughing out the orders of lesser import.
He scraped the shovel along the floor and scooped chunks of discarded marble into the wheelbarrow. It was a good life, a great life even. They all lived very well and never went hungry or cold. The work also kept him strong which had served him well throughout his school years, keeping the school bullies at bay. Public education was another thing unique to the Queendom of Steinheim and a bonus as far as his parents were concerned.
He liked the hammer and chisel well enough and he loved his homelife but he had always dreamed of becoming a Paladin. Every one of his childhood friends had said they would be a Paladin when they grew up. Often playing ‘Paladin and the Plague’ where a single brave Paladin would run around and slay plague monsters with stick swords in Huginn’s rathful name or convert fellow children to other Paladins with Muninn’s mercy and faith.
However at seventeen Gregory, as far as he knew, was the only one of his friends that secretly still held onto that dream. The only one who still dreamt of donning the gray steel of the order and serving under the legendary paladin leader Kearin. Doing whatever the Raven Gods asked of him. Defending the Queendom and no doubt killing fantastical and evil monsters that were only rumored to exist but were obviously the sworn enemy of the Paladin Order.
He dropped another shovel full in with others with a faint smile as he daydreamed.
He’d also become a legend himself through heroic deeds and adventures, saving damsels and having musicians sing ballads about his exploits in taverns all across the land. Not just Steinnheim. Maybe even the whole realm!
His family knew of his dreams but he had stopped telling his friends as they grew older and it was no longer popular.
Gregory smiled as he played it out in his mind. Him in the gray, leading his fellow Paladins into battle against some nebulously dark and evil threat. Swords clashing and evil screaming in pain as he defeated foe after foe.
His mother clearing her throat brought him back to the present with a start. He belatedly realized that the hammering had stopped a while ago and that he had been standing there, shovel in hand and staring idly off into space.
“Thinking about the tests again Gregory?” His mother asked with a smile wrinkling her eyes.
Gregory nodded. “I was, sorry mom. I got distracted.” He apologized, slightly embarrassed and started scooping more rubble to haul away.
“Are you nervous?” She asked. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, the guard turns almost everyone away you know and the Order turns even more away than that.” His mother said with concern.
Gregory nodded as he continued to work, it was a well worn argument between them. “I know I know, I’m not nervous though. Clem’s older brother told us all about the tests he had to do when he tried last year and he said it was the hardest thing he’d ever done but Clem’s brother is fat and lazy and he was trying to sound tough. Plus we all think he failed early on but is trying to save face.” He confided as he dropped another shovel load with the others and continued.
“I outrun Clem and his brother every time we race and the last time we scuffled I pinned him without trying. He might be big but he’s soft.” His mother looked worriedly at him and glanced outside at the failing light.
“I know son, I know. It’s just…I don’t want you to be disappointed is all. They only accept a set number of people every year and…and your father and I, we don’t want you to get your hopes too high.”
Gregory bent to scoop one last shovel full and deposited it with the others. He looked at his mother standing high on the scaffold. There was worry written in her eyes and he knew she was smiling sadly at him behind her kerchief. The look tugged at his heart and he, not for the first time, had doubts about attending the trials.
It would be so much easier not to go. If I don’t go then I can’t fail. I’m happy here aren’t I? The thought was tempting but then he thought of Clem’s brother.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
How all he did was brag about how he had passed all the trials and made it through the testing, suspiciously failing some test at the very end.
Gregory had always suspected Clem’s brother had actually failed and dropped out early on.
He pulled his mask down and smiled widely at his mom, trying to ease her worry.
“Don’t worry Mom, I know my chances are slim but I want to be a Paladin more than anyone else. I know Huginn and Muninn will see my worth during the trials.”
When her sad look didn’t dissipate he added.
“Besides, the city guard would be good too and then I could visit more often.”
Her sad face lightened a little at that.
Should he fail all the tests he would just come home. There was really no loss of honor in failing. Like his mother said, most of those that went up the pass came back down to return to their lives. It was an outcome he had come to accept as a possibility, especially after his father had sat him down and had an exceptionally blunt conversation about it just the night before.
The guard really wouldn’t be so bad, in fact it might actually be better. The possibility of being killed was very low, lower than both the Army and the Order. The pay was considered middling and you were a respected member of the community. The only downside was you didn’t get to choose where you were stationed in the Queendom. All things considered, it was a sought after position.
“You can always come home, there’s more than enough work around these days and your sculpting is coming along. Honestly we need the help.” She smiled a knowing smile before adding in a sly tone.
“In fact we just got an order from the Paladins earlier today.” Gregory’s eyes widened in shock.
“What!? And no one told me? Was a Paladin here? Who were-What did they order?” He asked in a rush.
“And how come no one told me! I would've done anything to be here when they were here.”
His mom laughed at his flustered state but quickly cut her laughter short when Gregory glared at her.
“Oh Greg, I’m sorry. You were in town with your father and I had no idea they were coming. As for who it was, they didn’t say. It was just one of them. A young woman with black hair, a mace and dark eyes. You know how they all look similar.” She said as she nimbly climbed from the scaffold.
“You go dump that last one and let's call it a night. I’ve got the drawings for what they asked for in the house and I’ll show you after we wash up but before dinner.”
Gregory couldn’t believe it! He hurriedly pushed the load of rubble through the doors. A paladin was here. In my family’s shop! He wondered which member it was.
His mom mentioned she carried a mace as a primary weapon, which narrowed it down quite a bit. Members of the Order carried whichever weapon they preferred and he knew that there were only a few members that used the mace and most of them were newer members at that.
He couldn't believe his bad luck in missing the paladin. Sure he’d seen them in town a handful of times in town, who hadn’t? But it was always from a distance. If he had only stayed home like his mother had wanted he probably could have even talked to her! Instead he’d opted for the trip into town because it was a convenient excuse to get out of shoveling rock for a few hours and his father almost always bought them a baked treat on the way home.
Gregory grumbled as he dumped the rocks and trekked back inside. He left the wheelbarrow in the shop and closed the large bay doors before exiting the smaller door that led to the courtyard.
His mother must have already left for the house so he walked the short distance across the yard to the rain barrel they used to wash the marble dust off their hands and faces. Washing done, he smacked his thighs and chest to get as much of the dust off as he could before he stepped inside. The smell of his father cooking dinner and the sound of his younger brother pestering him for an early taste greeted him as he closed the door.
Normally he would join in with his brother in needling their father goodnaturedly but this night was different. He shed his dusty boots, kerchief and apron in the mudroom. A feature unique to their home for this very reason, and went straight to the sitting room where he knew his mother would have put the drawing.
She was sitting by her desk in her favorite chair, watching her husband and their youngest son argue and wrestle with a smile. Her hair was still slightly dusty but her face and hands were clean. At his approach she stood and walked behind her desk. “Here it is.” she said and held up a hand, forestalling his frustration.
“Before you get mad at me, I knew if I told you about it earlier you wouldn’t be able to sit still until you got to look at it and then you’d have a million questions that I wouldn’t have time to answer.”
He huffed and his frustration left him. She was right, his interest in the order was borderline obsession.
She pushed some rolls of paper out the way and unrolled a large sheet, placing two poorly carved stone faces on either end to keep it from rolling up again. The weights were Gregory and his brother’s first real attempts at carving stone and he cringed every time he saw them but his mother treasured them and displayed them with pride. Gregory’s eyes were drawn to the sheet. He had thought maybe it would be some grand statue of Kearin. Posing heroically, sword in hand. Or at least a Raven or two but it was a request for a simple plaque.
At first glance it looked like a gravestone or street marker. The alphabet was strange and alien and there were no decorations, just words. It wasn’t even that many words.
“What language is this? I don’t get it.” He said with just a hint of frustration. Thinking it was probably some language from across the ocean. Likely the plaque was to be a gift or somesuch.
“I don’t actually know but I suspect this is the language of the Gods.” She said, wonderment coloring her voice just the slightest.
His eyes widened in awe. “Really?! You think so?”
It was a well known fact that the Paladins all had their own spoken language that was colloquially known as the ‘language of the Gods’ but he had never heard of a written language before and he was an unofficial expert on the Order’s customs, traditions and culture.
“The Paladin that came here didn’t say as much but she did ask me to not spread word of this around.” His mother shrugged. “She specifically told me it wasn’t a royal secret but that the Order would appreciate discretion.”
Gregory’s eyes traced the strange letters again.
“What do you think it says?” He asked with wonder.
His mother answered with another shrug. “I don’t know and I don’t think it’s our business to try and find out. The Order can be dangerous, don’t forget that.”
He nodded his head. It was true, the Order had almost absolute power within the Queendom. It was rumored that the Queen only ruled because the order willed it and that she was just a puppet for the order.
Gregory doubted it though. Even if it was true, Ironhold had clean straight streets, public education, sewers that drained well and even public bathhouses. Each of these things were rare to the realm, much less all in one city. So even if the Order did run things they were doing a decent enough job. He had heard of other cities from peddlers and merchants and they all said that Ironhold was the cleanest city they had ever been to. Crime was a problem but from what Gregory knew that was just an aspect of city life. He stared at the sheet of paper a moment longer before asking.
“When do they need it?”
“Well she said as soon as we could manage and they paid quite a bit to move it up in our order queue.” His mother replied as she rubbed her chin in thought and added. “Think you could get it done tomorrow?”
Gregory sputtered “What? Me? Shouldn’t you do this? This has got to be more important than we know and I can’t-” His mother interrupted him with a raised hand. “Son, it’s just letters on a plaque. You’ve been doing that for me for years now, just think of it as another job. They didn’t even want any ornamentation or have a stone color preference. I asked.”
His eyes traced the letters again but this time with the critical eye of a stonemason.
It was true, it was just letters and he’d been doing that for a long time now. Headstones, street signs, home names, business names and even some higher profile information plaques to go with his mom’s work. If he ignored the fact that it was for the paladins he’d barely flinch at the idea and it would probably only take him a couple hours to finish. But it was for the paladins and that weight made him nervous. He took a deep breath and firmed his resolve.
“I can. I can do it tomorrow.” He said, his voice cracking.
“Good!” She said loudly with a clap of her hands before she turned and walked into the kitchen.
“Then you can deliver it yourself when you go to the trials the morning after. Let's eat, I’m starved.” She said nonchalantly over her shoulder as she entered the kitchen. Leaving Gregory speechlessly staring at the paper.