The next day passed in a blur. He selected a large slab of stone, picking a dark, almost black square and very carefully traced the strange letters onto it with a chalk stick. Then he started chiseling and etching. He was so absorbed in the work he missed lunch and only realized it when his mother gently tapped on his shoulder and wordlessly handed him a plate.
A couple hours later he realized he was finished and the empty plate had disappeared. He straightened and stretched his back. He had been hunched over for hours and the sun was setting. His mother was still working on the statue but stopped when he stood.
“All finished then?” She asked from the scaffold. He just nodded mutely and gulped water from a clay cup someone had left for him.
“Let’s have a look then.” She said as she climbed down and leaned over the plaque. She looked back and forth from the paper pinned to the wall and the plaque on the worktable and then nodded.
“Good work son. I don’t think I could have done a better job myself.” She said proudly. Gregory’s heart filled at her praise. He knew she could have done a better job and probably only taken half a day to do it but he was still proud of his work.
“Now you’d better wrap this and put it in the cart now. You’ll have an early morning tomorrow. Partridge Gap is a long way.” Suddenly he felt nauseous and the water he had gulped so quickly gurgled in his stomach. He had been so absorbed in the plaque that he had forgotten about the trials. He put his hands on the table and took deep breaths. He would be staying in the pass three days from now and starting the trials the next day, it all felt too sudden and his stomach threatened to heave the water he had just swallowed all over the floor. It must have shown on his face because his mother took a step to the side and placed a hand on his back, rubbing in small circles. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. You’ll always have a place here.” She said soothingly.
Gregory fought back the anxiety with difficulty and straightened his back.
“I have to go, if I don’t I’ll always wonder. I’ve dreamed of this for too long. Even if I fail it’ll be better than not knowing.” He said, feeling more conviction with each word. “I have to at least try.”
His mother nodded and smiled. “Good choice son. I think you’re right. Come on, let's get this wrapped and loaded. Your father made your favorite and we still need to get you packed. It’s three days on the road to get there and you haven’t packed a thing.”
The wagon bumped and jostled as Gregory’s father guided their old mule up the road to Partridge Gap. He would remember that night before for a long time. His father had made his favorite dinner, cheese rolls with tomato soup and sausage. They had all sat around the table telling stories from when he and his brother had been smaller. They laughed and ate together reliving the antics they had gotten up to. Then his mother had surprised him with a bundle of honey glazed sweet rolls from the market. They had mildly alcoholic cider made from the Uhner orchard just outside Ironholds’s walls. It was a very rare treat.
They ate sweet rolls and drank the cider by the fire while the conversation grew more quiet and subdued. He had gone to bed feeling well loved and supported, that either way everything would be ok. The driver's bench jostled as one of the wheels hit a large cobble. He jerked his head around and looked into the mostly empty cart to check that the plaque was still securely tied down.
“Still back there?” His father asked next to him with a chuckle.
Gregory, embarrassed, nodded. He had checked the plaque in a panic every time they had hit a bump.
“It’s just. I remember the wagon being smoother than this?” He said in a questioning tone.
“Aye, it usually is but normally we’re hauling a lot of rock and that weighs it down. We’re also usually in town and this road is a little rougher than those.”
He pointed up to the pass, looming ever closer.
“Almost there though. Look, you can just see the smoke coming from the compound.” Gregory squinted, looking over the treetops and could indeed make out faint whirls of smoke in the distance. His nerves redoubled and his stomach clenched. His father clapped him on the pack and left his arm around him.
“It’ll be fine son, either way it’ll be fine. And if you decide this is just a delivery that’s fine too.” He nodded and they rode on in silence as Gregory tried to still his nervous heart and rebellious stomach.
The walls to the compound were tall and imposing. The quarried rocks making up the wall were huge and Gregory’s stonemason mind wondered how they even moved such large blocks of stone. Surely it had taken a team of mules and dozens of men to move them.
They joined the swiftly moving line of other families and testers that approached the open gate and stopped when one of the guards held up a hand.
“Reason for visiting?” The bored guardsman asked. To which his father responded. “My son is here for the trials and I’ve got a delivery from Quill Mason’s for the Order.” “One moment.” The guard said while grabbing their mule’s reins.
“Linek! Go find out if this is authorized for entry!” He bellowed into the gatehouse and a young man hustled out, saluted with a brief “Yes sir!” and then marched off quickly.
The guard that had stopped them stood there holding the reins and looked boredly at the second line. Wagon after wagon passed them as they sat there waiting.
The afternoon sun beat down and Greogry began to sweat. He looked up into the sky, hoping to spy a cloud or two that would save him from the sun's onslaught but all that was in the sky was a lone black bird, circling high above the dusty road.
The common saying ran through his head at the sight of the bird.
See a lone black bird and know that life’s looking at you. Hopefully that means my life is changing for the better.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The contents of each wagon were inspected and the passengers questioned much the same way they had been but each was shuttled past in only a few moments.
Gregory’s embarrassment grew with each passing wagon and traveler. Nearly one and all they were hopeful trial testers with their parents and they stared at Gregory and his father as they passed.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore and was considering hiding in the back of the wagon, the bored guard that was holding the old mule’s reins glanced behind their cart and suddenly came to attention. He stood up straight and puffed his chest out.
Curious Gregory turned and his jaw dropped. Marching between the lines of carts and people waiting for inspection was a Paladin. Her gray armor, a mix of leather and plate, moved fluidly with her as she marched forward with purpose. An impressive looking ax swung at her side with each step and a frown creased her brow. Barely keeping up with the demanding pace set by the apparently angry Paladin was a young woman, dressed in dirty, threadbare clothes. She had dark hair that was soaked in sweat and her face was red with exertion as she stumbled along with the armored woman. Gregory squinted at the Paladin trying to get a better look at them and maybe see if he would recognize who it was and his eyes widened further. It wasn’t just any Paladin, it was Kearin.
The leader of the Order and personal advisor to the Queen. Her gray hair was done in braids that looped around the back of her head in an intricate style but it wasn’t the gray hair that gave her away.
It was the scars.
One side of her face was nearly covered in them, the largest was on her left cheek. It looked like someone had put a blade in her mouth and simply sawed roughly toward her ear. Her neck also had several scars that disappeared under her collar and crept up toward her jawline. The right side of her face was unblemished and was currently set in a deep frown as she approached them.
His mouth hung open and his mind raced but a gentle nudge from his father’s elbow made him snap his mouth shut and avert his eyes as they passed. The pair stopped in front of the guardsman who saluted crisply, fist to chest. The girl immediately put her hands on her knees and wheezed, trying to catch her breath.
Unphased by the brutal march the Paladin saluted back and turned her head to glance at Gregory, his father and the wagon before asking the guard.
“Guardsman, what’s the hold up with this wagon?” Her tone was firm and precise and had the unique ring of authority to it. It was a voice that expected answers and was used to getting them and as the leader of the Order it was no surprise. They had almost unlimited authority while on the Queen’s land.
The guard paled at her tone and stuttered. “I-I-they said it was a delivery for the Order Ma’am, corporal Linek is trying to find out if this was authorized for entry. Ma’am!”
The Paladin looked back at the wagon and its occupants and asked.
“This is from Quill Mason’s?”
His father responded evenly. “Yes ma’am.”
“You are Clay Mason then?” His father nodded and said. “Yes ma’am, this is my son Gregory. He’s here for the trials.” Gregory tried to appear as even keeled as his father and met her eyes when she looked at him but he could only do so for a moment. Her dark eyes unnerved him, they were almost black with no hint of a pupil.
She nodded at them both.
“Well met.” She said simply and turned to the guard, still standing rigidly at attention.
“Well done guardsmen, I’ll take it from here. As you were.” He saluted and released the reins before turning to the next in line and waving them forward, looking incredibly relieved.
“Mr. Mason, I have a favor to ask.” Kearin started and gestured to the still red faced girl.
“This is my charge, Kellendry. I would ask if you had room in your wagon for her. I fear I may have overdone it in my hurry to get here and the wagon we were riding with couldn’t fit between the lines.”
Gregory’s father nodded easily.
“Of course! Wagon’s mostly empty anyway. Gregory, why don’t you hop in the back and we’ll let Miss Kellendry have the bench.”
Gregory nodded mutely and clambered into the back, sitting next to the stone plaque. “Thank you Mr. Mason. I will accompany you to The Well for the delivery and from there I can show your son where to go for the trials.”
The tired girl climbed onto the bench and slumped forward. Now that she was closer Gregory could tell that her clothes were even worse off than he had thought. Poorly patched holes, threadbare sections and a general griminess covered her visage. There was also an odor to her that said she hadn’t visited one of the bathhouses in a while. Gregory kept his mouth shut though, she was with Kearin and that must mean she was important somehow. The wagon lurched forward as they made their way deeper into the compound, Kearin walked silently next to them and would occasionally glance at the tired girl swaying on the bench.
The compound was impressively large and sprawling, there were numerous buildings set in neat rows with straight streets, much like Ironhold.
Some of the buildings were small, likely single person residences, while others were larger and had multiple chimneys. The thing they all had in common was they were made from the same gray stone as the wall and they were all stout and sturdy.
A few of these buildings had open doors and Gregory peered inside as they passed. Some were mess halls where men and women of the guard sat at long tables and ate. While others were barracks filled with bunks. There were towering trees interspersed throughout the walled area and Gregory was surprised to see several people lounging in the shade, reading or napping. He even saw a couple with a picnic.
I thought this was where they trained Paladins and Guardsmen but it looks more like a resort. I guess I thought it would be more….more I don’t know. More martial?
Kearin glanced at Kellendry and then looked back at Gregory.
“Have you ever been to the compound before?” She asked, breaking the silence they had been walking in.
Gregory cleared his throat. “No Ma’am. I haven’t.”
He was immediately proud of how even his voice had sounded.
“Well, this is the barracks and recreation area. You and Kellendry will be staying in the recruit barracks with the other hopefuls, which are further ahead.” She pointed with a scarred hand.
Are those scar rings around her fingers? What in the hells would cut you like that? Gregory thought in alarm.
Kearin dropped her arm and continued talking.
“Just beyond that are the training and testing fields where you and your fellow recruits will undergo the trials as you called them.” She explained as they walked along the cobbled road.
“Further still and higher in the pass is The Well and where we are headed currently.” Gregory nodded excitedly.
The Well was what the Paladins called their own keep and he had heard rumors about the fort ranging from the absurd to the fantastic. Some said it wasn’t even a keep, just a gateway to another realm, other people swore it was a majestic castle, equal to if not more grand than the queen’s. The fact that he was actually going to see it had his hands shaking with excitement. They rolled along and eventually passed the training fields where men and women ran obstacle courses, trained with wooden weapons or did group exercise. Some were seated in a large semi circle and were listening raptly to older instructors as they pointed at diagrams and maps on a board. There was even a small mock city block made out of wood where teams of recruits ran through and fought other teams in a simulated city battle. Soon though they left the clamor of the fields and pressed on.