The Winds of Crowns and Wolves

by K. E. Walter

  He approached Neach and shook his hand, his eyes wide with fear.

  “You want m-me to infiltrate the castle?” Neach asked, perplexed.

  “I do not want anything, son, but I can say wholeheartedly that the Kingdom needs this service of you. You are to pose as either a musician, or something else of your choice, in order to gain intelligence on the movements and actions of King Henrig, the bastard son of the House Goewig,” the room cheered once again. Though the day was still young, many had been indulging in the ciders and beers of the city in an effort to calm their own nerves. Now, it seemed, the burden of this task was to fall upon Neach’s shoulders. Young and narrow as they were, it was obvious that the eldest members of the house felt he was capable of carrying out the task.

  “And so, members of the House Goedwig, in three days’ time, our brother Neach will enter the Castle Leirwold. Lo, he will bypass the happiness that is oft associated with entertainment, he will require our blessing before this day comes,” Daniel said and the rest of the room obliged.

  There was silence for a few seconds before Daniel began:

  Firgilli Cuma lare dishi procirila mon, drit dur vigi suda Cuma lare con

  The words echoed through the hall as they were spoken aloud by all one-hundred eighty members bar himself. He remembered reading them in the Toriik Riamendi. If his memory served him correctly, the message read: “as the righteous heads into the bowels of the fire, cover him with a cloak of water”.

  Neach stood idly, as he was approached by the multitude of his brothers and sisters who gave their various praises and exaltations for the task he was about to take upon himself. He felt uncomfortable. Their praise seemed undeserving, as the burden he was taking up was minimal in the face of those who had died during the conflict. But, he took them in stride, and expressed his gratitude for their prayers and goodwill, as he prepared to enter the field of work that his House set forth.

  As the people filed out of the area, Tyrin, Dirk, Pliss, and Vilxa remained behind to speak with Neach.

  “Enough of this seriousness,” Tyrin said with a smile on his face, “let us drink to our health while we still have it!” he exclaimed to raucous cheers from those around him.

  He embraced Neach, and guided him out of the room, toward the dining area. The ground was lined with marble, and the furniture was lined with gold that twinkled in the early afternoon sunlight which shone through a stained glass window, encompassing an entire wall. The ornate decoration that flooded the dining room was typical of the lifestyle Daniel lead. Though a musician by trade, he had made a fair income as a travelling bard, and put it toward living an illustrious life. Tables of delicately carved oak and furniture, made with the finest velvet and animal skins, could be seen all throughout the house. It was a far cry from the simplicity of life in Spleuchan Sonse. Before coming to Leirwold, the most valuable item in his home had been his father’s favorite chair, which his father had carved for him.

  Tyrin swooped a bottle of wine out of a cupboard and raised it high in the air.

  “To life, to love, and most importantly, to our brother Neach,” the bottle came crashing down, as he pulled a large swig from its orifices.

  He handed the bottle off to Neach first, who took an equally large drink. The wine tasted expensive but it still burned the back of his throat as it went down.

  “That right there is the finest whisky from across the sea, in the Kingdom of Lejman. Drink up, for tonight we celebrate,” his words were once again met with rambunctious applause. Tyrin never failed to evoke emotion from those who he spoke to. Neach thought that he would make a great leader in the future, even in his current young age.

  The bottle of whisky was passed around for hours from person to person, and the laughter grew louder as the alcohol set in. Dance was ongoing through the wee hours of the night, and Neach found himself in embraces with both Pliss and Tyrin. Somehow in the chaos of the day, he had grown fond of his brothers and sisters. It seemed they had a connection as deep as the largest mineral mine in the Kingdom, yet they had only known each other for the better part of a day.

  He sang songs he did not know, and even learned some in the native language that he knew he would ultimately forget in the morning. For tonight, all that could be heard throughout the house was bliss. Utter happiness and exuberance for these young men and women, who were embarking on a journey in which they were uncertain of its safety, filled the halls. They fought for what they believed was the righteous cause, and drank heartily as if it were commanded by the Gods themselves.

  Tyrin had a different side to him when he was drinking. The seriousness and stoic nature that he usually upheld evaporated, and he sank back into the seventeen year-old being that he truly was. As the night grew old, Tyrin guided Neach outside, in back of the home. He held a curious item in his hand. It looked like a rolled leaf, and that was apparently exactly what it was.

  “This, in my hand, is the leaf of the duvalnik plant that can only be found on Rosalia. The forest holds many secrets, Neach, and this one will help you understand them the most,” he said with a laugh. His happiness seemed to multiply, as he become more and more intoxicated.

  He lit the roll with a match, and inhaled deeply. As he exhaled, pink smoked emanated from his mouth, and Neach thought he could hear the morning birds singing in the distance. In fairness, the birds may have actually loomed near as the hour grew late. He handed it off to Neach, who inhaled like Tyrin did, before his mind seemed to explode into the open air.

  He felt like he was flying above the home, above the city. Like a bird himself, he dove and banked and narrowly avoided rooftops. In his visions, he even saw Jenos. Her vivid green eyes were looking up at him from down at the university, and he could not help but smile to himself. The colors around him were exponentially more vibrant, and everything he thought seemed to fill him with happiness.

  His body felt warm, like he was sitting next to the fire back at his home in Spleuchan Sonse. His eyes may have closed minutes earlier, but Tyrin snapped his fingers in front of his face to awake him.

  “You should head to bed, Neach. Tomorrow you embark on your mission. For the good of the House and Kingdom, right brother?” he asked with a shy smile.

  He clapped Neach on the back and headed back inside, as he followed close behind. The journey to his bed seemed much more perilous than the journey he would be embarking on the following day, but he was grateful to crawl under his sheets just the same before he faded off to sleep, the birds singing their song of joy in his head.

  Out they come to spread their cheer; they drink till the morning to abide their fear. Joy is a blessing and joy is a curse, as the morning lark sings each day a new verse.

  XVI

  His head felt like it weighed one hundred pounds. He was awoken by a loud pounding on his door from the outside. As it swung open, his head throbbed, and he raised his hand to his temple to prevent the onslaught of pain that was coming his way. Standing in his doorway was Daniel. He bore the same overenthusiastic smile as he usually did, but today it was different.

  In his hands, he held a delicate green velvet robe with gold trimmings. He thrust it forward into Neach’s face, and Neach groaned at the sight of the clothes, partially from their appearance, and partially from his hangover.

  “There is an audition for entertainment at the castle today. I hear you are quite the shot with a bow, perhaps you could use that to your advantage?” Daniel chuckled as he posed the rhetorical question to Neach.

  Neach had little time to react before Daniel thrust an ornately carved bow in his face again. The repetitiveness of Daniel’s actions, combined with Neach’s ill feeling, made for a very unpleasant interaction initially. However, he sucked up his pain and obliged Daniel’s wishes.

  “When does this audition start?” Neach inquired, rubbing his eyes with every word that left his yawning mouth.

  Daniel laughed a hearty laugh before his replied.

  “Twenty minutes; good luck!” he exc
laimed as he slammed the door behind him and ran downstairs.

  Neach couldn’t help but wonder what it was that made Daniel such a peculiar individual. He was sending him off into danger with the widest smile on his face, laughing the whole way.

  He donned the outfit which Daniel had bestowed upon him, and jogged out of his door down the staircase. Bursting out of the front door and onto the street in front of Daniel’s home, Neach quickly turned the corner and headed for the castle which loomed overhead behind the house.

  From a sprint, he slowed to a fast paced trot, as he approached the castle gate that was guarded by five men.

  “I’m here for the audition, sire,” he said in his most polite tone.

  “What is your name, boy?” the fat, red faced guard in the center asked sternly.

  “Coinneach,” he hoped this would be sufficient, but was prepared to manufacture his way in if all else failed.

  The guards separated at the sound of his name and he was permitted entry into the Castle Leirwold. From his first glance, he could not believe what he was seeing with his eyes. A massive square of grass was lined with flowers from the entrance until the bridge a few hundred feet away. The inside of the castle walls was expertly crafted, and it gave an artistic aesthetic to the otherwise purposeless rock.

  As he headed over the Castle’s moat, he entered the central sphere of the compound. The way the castle was organized, it had three rings which made up its design. The outer ring was the castle wall, which protected it from the rest of the city. The secondary ring protected the center market and living area of the castle from the outer ring, and the primary ring housed the King and his family in a large stone tower.

  Neach’s jaw dropped as he entered the secondary ring and saw how high the wall rose on every side. It was as if it were its own bustling city inside of the castle, completely cut off from the rest of Leirwold. He was approached nearly immediately and assumed that Daniel had sent word that he would be coming for the audition.

  “Greetings, Coinneach! Good to see you here so promptly,” the man chided with a thick layer of sarcasm. Neach had evidently shown up a few minutes late for his appointed time.

  “Come along now, the King will be waiting,” he added as he ushered him toward a room at the far end of the courtyard.

  Neach’s heart sank, and he felt as if it may hit the ground completely unencumbered. He was going to be face to face with the man who had ordered the deaths of his brothers and sisters. If he weren’t in such a hurry, he may have been shaking where he stood, but he swallowed his fear and set his sights upon his ultimate goal. For the next few minutes minimally, he would need to muster all of his courage to entertain the bastard who wanted him dead.

  The temperature seemed to drop a noticeable twenty degrees as they entered the King’s presence. Outside, the early summer sun beat down and scalded exposed skin. Under the shade of the rooftop and with the luxury of personal fans in the form of captured criminals, Henrig sat atop a bejeweled throne, fat and happy. Though the air outside was humid and thick with heat, the King still wore his thick lion’s fur robe around his broad shoulders and stomach. Neach was motioned behind a group of four other performers, and he watched on as they went before the King.

  First to perform was a boy who appeared to be younger than Neach himself. He carried wooden balls in his hands and began to juggle them high in the air. It lasted no more than a few seconds before he dropped every item and was left empty handed. A silence fell over the room, as the boy was escorted out of the back toward the exit of the secondary ring.

  Following the unimpressive young boy was a man who looked to be just older than Neach. He walked forward with no items in his possession, and his arms folded behind his back. There was a pause before he began his act, and the King stopped eating his apple to soak in what he was hearing.

  They came up through the valley; they came from through the trees. The setting sun looked ripe like fruit from the branches’ leaves. And into the wild they ventured; and into the sea they rowed. The Kingdom holds no secrets, for a secret’s never told.

  His song echoed through the far corners of the room, and it was greeted by applause from none other than the King himself. He seemed pleased with the performance, but did not wish to appear overenthusiastic.

  He stepped forward with his bow and surveyed the area around him, looking for a catalyst to the chemical reaction he hoped to incite within the King’s emotions. Initially, nothing caught his eye, but then he remembered a trick he had learned as a kid. As a young boy, his father Asgall had gifted him a bow for his ninth birthday. Along with the bow, he taught his young son how to create fire out of nothing. By dousing the tip of the arrow in alcohol, the friction created by the speed of the arrow when met with the enzymes in specific types of fruit could cause a spontaneous combustion, resulting in a fire.

  “May I borrow your wine, my King,” Neach asked politely as he bowed.

  The King obliged and handed his goblet over to the young man.

  What happened next took real courage on his part, but it ultimately paid off.

  The string of the bow was drawn back, and the arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the apple the King was eating. Only a few inches from his hand, the arrow caused a slow burning fire that cast a glow on the wall behind him. His eyes grew wide and then a smiled followed suit. He was obviously impressed with his tactical prowess, and he watched as Neach aimed for his guard’s hat and pinned it to the wall. His final piece was an arrow, with string tied to its feathers that he fired into the ceiling above the King’s throne and swung across the empty space on. He landed atop the jeweled seat, standing overtop the King, and derived explosive applause and cheers from the whole room.

  It was evident that Neach had won over the King’s favor, as he rose to his feet to deliver his proclamation.

  “It is quite obvious who has impressed me the most on this momentous day. Young man with the bow, what is your name?” the King asked.

  Neach responded with little time separating the question from the response.

  “Coinneach, your excellence. I hail from Spleuchan Sonse,” Neach espoused.

  The King smiled a smile that must have been brought on partially by the liquor.

  “Well, Coinneach of Spleuchan Sonse, welcome to the embrace of the King. Every person who resides within the secondary ring of the castle is an important member of this Kingdom. We will spare no expense to make your stay here more enjoyable. You will remain under my supervision and care for the next month, as we celebrate the birth of my dear father,” the King spoke softly. It was unusual for Neach. who had imagined he would be much more ruthless.

  He moved as if his body were completely made of water. His feet made no sound as they struck the ground and he seemed capable of stealth performance, most likely a result of his training from the House. Though he walked without a sound, he remained upright and stoic, commanding a fearsome presence in front of him. When he reached the door of the royal quarters of the castle, he motioned Neach inside.

  “In here you will find your accommodations,” the King said with a smile on his face, “I trust they will be up to your specifications,” with a giggle, he exited the room.

  “I will call upon you in a few hours, until then, find your area of comfort, whether it be within the castle or in this room,” the King removed his hands from the door frame and glided quietly into the hallway.

  Neach was in awe as he looked around the room, which he now found himself living in. The sheets were made of fine silk from around the Western Empires, the pillows with the plushest down from the youngest birds in the Kingdom. Duncairn did many things right, but above all, they were known for their wood and ores. The bed frame was crafted from a dark strain of mahogany that had grain lines which threatened to run straight into the ground where they stood. Attached to the wood were curtains of velvet that would block the sunlight out with their thickness.