The Order of the Wolf: a Short Story

III

For the next few days, Rowan felt miserable. During his time off he would stay in his quarters and lay in bed.

It seemed no one was benefiting from what he told the advisor. Were his actions only going to be an obstacle in all of his friendships?

Then, as though a candle were lit, things began to change. It was as if Alys noticed how sad he was or how much time he was spending away from his friends. Either way, she was now spending more time with him than the two had ever before.

Each night they would walk through the gardens just outside the castle. Very rarely had they ever been alone without the presence of Terrowin before, and Rowan felt bad for enjoying the change. Almost every night the stars were clearly visible above their heads as they shone down on the two. At first Rowan didn't notice it, but he'd started wearing his nicer tunics on their walks. He'd even had a fellow servant complain about the time he took cleaning up in the baths.

No one else visited the gardens at night, so when he and Alys were there, Rowan felt they were the only two people in the world. The ground of the garden was lush green grass, creating paths lined by short hedges.

So one night, for the 22nd time, Rowan and Alys were lying upon the ground with their arms by their sides. The trimmed grass traced their sides and danced with their fingertips.

"How many stars are speckled across the heavens?" Asked Alys. Rowan had long ago decided it was the human nature to be afraid to express such thoughts as these in the company of many. But one was with only one other person, they could voice these feelings. No fear of ridicule came when there was no one to do so.

"What if the stars aren't in the heavens?" Replied Rowan. "What if what we look up to at night is something different?"

Alys' hair rustled as she turned her head to him. Confusion was written across her face. "What on earth is that meant to mean?"

"Heaven, if there is a heaven, is located somewhere else. Not up above us. It certainly must be harder to reach."

"Rowan, do you even believe in heaven?"

Suddenly, shouts erupted through the air, followed by the brash clanging of metal. Rowan sat up in an instant, not noticing when his hand landed on Alys'. "What was that noise?"

Without answering, Alys pulled herself and him up on their feet. "I believe we must find out. Perhaps some soul we know is in trouble."

The noises continued; shouts, curses, and shoves. It wasn't difficult for Rowan and Alys to follow them. Their lithe leather boots barely touched the ground as they sprinted out of the garden and into the streets.

To his surprise, Alys kept up well with Rowan. He was hoping this meant she was particularly fast for a woman and not that he was particularly slow for a man.

Ahead of them, the gates to the courtyard loomed. He stuck out his arms and, with only brute force, pushed them open.

Past the swinging gates Rowan watched as a group of men being moved along in their direction, out of the castle. "Oh, Rowan, who are they?" Alys asked.

He didn't answer. Instead he ran to stop them, hoping she wasn't following him. "Hey, who might you be?" Called a guard, one of five that were taking the group of men out of the castle.

"Rowan! Rowan! Tell them to stop!" Yelled a familiar voice. Terrowin appeared in the group of oppressed men, and, in his night robes, ran toward his friend.

"Stop right there, Sir Terrowin! You have committed offense against the king!" Roared one of the guards, grabbing his arm and yanking him back. "You have been found to have attended and created the Order of the Wolf."

"Rowan! I don't know how they found out! No one would-" His voice stopped and understanding came to his face. "You..." His blue eyes ran out of companionship, replaced with abandonment. There was a knot in Rowan's gut and he gulped. Terrowin wasn't supposed to find out. He wasn't supposed to be exiled out of the castle.

It was almost like Rowan's legs were yelling at him to run away. But that was all Rowan did. For once he would take some form of action.

He opened his mouth to yell, but was interrupted by a figure. It was Malum. As he walked into the courtyard, he effortlessly stole all the words from Rowan's mouth.

"Guards! Hurry them along, there's no need to waste time as if it were dirt!" He yelled.

"Sire, there is a servant is friends with these men," said one of the guards, pointing to Rowan.

All too quickly, he was in a terrifying stare; Malum's stare. "What wish do you have, boy?" He demanded.

"You cannot imprison these men!" Rowan told him. It was as if something other than himself was controlling what he said and felt. Something that wanted him to stand up for his friend.

The brown eyes of Malum were hard as rock. "Of course we will not imprison these men. They are to be executed." Rowan stumbled back as the image of his friend hanging from a rope intruded on his thoughts. "No!" He said. "You cannot do this!"

"But, servant, you were the one who told me of this organization in the first place. Are you taking back what you said? Do you wish King Maximilian dead too?" Malum's face was teasing, daring Rowan to say anything that could be held against himself.

But Rowan did do something. Something bold. He sped towards one of the guards, snatching his sword directly from its sheath. "Hey!" Yelled the guard.

In less than a second, Rowan was holding the sword to Malum's neck. "The true king of Egisland is Ulfur, and always will be. You are the one who is a traitor to the kingdom!" He wasn't sure why he said it. He had no evidence Malum was a traitor, but he didn't feel like his words were incorrect. In fact, he felt they were purer than snow.

The tip of the sword lowered to Malum's chest. Disappearing into his robes, Rowan saw the chain of a necklace. He traced it with the sword.

Malum's face turned red and he seethed. It was as if touching the necklace made him into a different person, one no longer composed and calm.

"Guards! Seize him!" He demanded. Rowan spun around and met a guard's blade with a striking clang. He twisted his blade down, searching through his brain for what little knowledge of swordplay he had. The guard swiped at his legs but Rowan was faster, pushing the blade away with his own.

"Rowan!" Yelled Alys from behind him. "Stop it, please!" He didn't listen. Instead he kept fighting. It felt like his limbs were on fire as they twisted and jarred, making parries and blocks. He was pushing the guard back further and further until he managed to scrape his blade across their unprotected stomach.

"Fool! You little servant scum!" The guard cursed, falling to the ground. He clutched his stomach and the blood began to seep through his fingers. Any other day, Rowan would lean down and give aid. But any other day, Rowan would not have been the person who put him on the ground.

"How- how did you do that, Rowan?" Alys asked.

"I don't know." But there was no time to stand and talk about it. Another one of the guards was sprinting towards him.

This fight wasn't nearly as heroic. As Rowan tried to turn around, the flat of the guard's blade struck the top of his head, slicing his ear open.

Never had such pain been felt. With a thud Rowan fell to the ground, raising his hand to his ear. The second contact was made, the pain blazed harder. He was no longer only in a battle with the guards. His body was a battlefield to itself as it burned with fire.

Why am I such an idiot? Why did I do that? His brain demanded answers, but his body was too busy screaming back in pain.

For a second his eyes open to see the guard lifting his boot. "No!" Cried Rowan as it was brought full force to his face.

Complete darkness filled his mind, and it decided to stay.