The Order of the Wolf: a Short Story

II

 The crowd cheered wildly as the knight in the blue tunic violently fell off his horse with a javelin to the stomach and thudded onto the ground. Sir Gavin, the reigning champion raised his jousting spear and yelled out loudly. The people in the stands responded to with a deafening roar.

 On his right, Rowan felt Alys watching Sir Gavin and making a noise like she was bored. "Can you believe some of these women? They swoon over him as if he'd ever heed their cries. Why try to catch someone who's not even falling for you in the first place?"

 Rowan glanced to his friend. She wasn't falling at that knight's feet like all the other women. For whatever reason, that made him smile.

 "Well I don't care much for swooning at knights and whether or not I shall be doing so," said Terrowin on Rowan's left. "I'm a knight myself. Not that that seems to be of good use lately."

 "What do you mean?" Asked Rowan.

 "The royal advisor has ordered for all the knights of the court to be searched." Rowan's face grew pale. It had been a few days since he had told Malum of the order. Apparently the advisor had taken no time before starting an examination of the knights.

 Terrowin looked at his friend with his light blue eyes. Sincerity shone through, and Rowan felt as if he were reading all his friend's secrets.

 "They're searching very hard, Rowan." It was clear what the knight was trying to convey. He knew something was afoot concerning the order. Rowan only hoped he'd never know it was him who'd gone to the advisor.

 Clearing his throat nervously, Rowan looked back to the tournament. Over the past few days he hadn't been able to cease contemplation over his decision. Had he made the right choice in telling the advisor? And had the advisor been the right person to tell at all? Queen Jacquelyn herself had said she didn't trust him. But of course, she didn't know of the order and its intentions, did she?

 "Rowan, are you feeling ill?" Asked Alys. With a jolt, he realized she was holding his arm. Nodding, he assured her he was fine.

 Alys let go and turned away, not looking very convinced. Rowan wondered why she cared if he fell ill. People got ill all the time, why did it matter if he did? Because you're her friend, he reminded himself.

 Friends they might be, but it didn't change the fact that Rowan no longer felt comfortable around "friends." Friends were the type of people you were supposed to be able to confide in. But how were you able to confide in someone if you were keeping secrets from them? What were you supposed to do when the only friend you had was yourself?

.  .  .

 The clanging of swords filled the air. With his elbows on his knees, Rowan watched as the knights sparred in the royal courtyard. Above him the sky was crystal clear, like you could throw a stone up into the heavens without any interruptions.

 Knights' heavy metal boots stomped cobblestone. Shields slammed onto swords. Grunts escaped rusty helmets.

 It all stopped in an instant of clattering. Queen Jacquelyn was entering the courtyard. Her arms together, her fair face glanced around about the courtyard until her gaze found Rowan.

 All the knights were standing and watching her, but only one approached to greet her. "Your highness," said Borin, a bulky young man who Rowan knew was in the order. The Queen looked at him with a particularly familiar smile, as if they knew each other on a personal level.  As he bowed, Jacquelyn said, "Good day, Sir Borin. If you don't mind, I wish to speak with the servant over there. Rowan."

 There was a shifting of armor as the knights suddenly noticed that Rowan was in their midst. His face turned red. Although he knew he had a closer relationship with the queen, not everyone else did.

 "The servant? Your highness, he is simply-"

 "A person I need to speak to, Borin," replied the queen curtly. "If you don't mind, I do not believe you will be stopping me from my wishes, am I wrong?"

 Bowing his head humbly, the brown haired knight turned out of her way. "Of course, your highness."

 Quickly, Rowan stood up and dusted off his tunic. It was rather difficult to ignore the stares of the royal knights as he waited for the queen to reach him.

 When she did, rather than greeting him, she snatched his arm and harshly pulled him away to a pavilion in another part of the courtyard.

 "I will have words with you, servant," she snapped, taking Rowan aback.

 Quickly bowing, he said, "Your highness, is something wrong?" He rubbed the sharp pain in his arm, but sharper was the fear that he had done something to offend his friend.

 "Why of course something is wrong, and I know you are behind it." Fear struck Rowan. Did she know he had told Malum of the order? And did she know of the order herself?

 "What do you mean, your highness? For you speak cryptically."

 "I believe my words are plain and clear. You have gone and told the royal adviser about the Order of the Wolf."

 Rowan's insides felt as though they were going to spill. He couldn't tell why, but the thought of the queen holding a grudge against him was terrifying.

 "Your highness, it was for the good of the king," was all he could say.

 Queen Jacquelyn shook her head with a look of disdain. "You simply do not understand, servant. The order is now going to be hunted out, and all the members killed. And I cannot have the members of the order killed."

 Rowan shook his head. "I do not understand, your highness."

 "Foolish boy. I cannot have those knights being killed," she said, "because it was I who created the order."