Chapter One: The Knight

         

Chapter one: The Knight

Ten years.
         Astrid sat at the dark wood desk in the study her grandmother had set aside for her. In her hands was a letter she had received a week ago, from a man she hadn't seen in ten years.
         It was her father, the illustrious Lord Astor, the man who had sent her to the convent where her grandmother had stepped in and rescued her.
         Astrid roughly folded the letter, tucking a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear. She had expected what the letter had contained, having overheard her grandmother discussing the same thing at lady Salia's last visit.
         The letter came in two parts. The first instructed her to return to her father's home. The second part was announcing her engagement. The messenger would return that very morning with a carriage to whisk her away.
         Astrid lifted and unfolded the letter again, only to screw it up and toss it into the unlit hearth. She cared little for what her father commanded, and less about any potential fianc
         The girl pulled out a sheet of fresh parchment and a harpy feather quill, a gift from Sir Mathew. She dipped the quill in the desk's inkwell and held it over the page.
         Astrid froze at her desk. A single drop of ink splashed onto the parchment as she pondered what to write. The letter was to her grandmother, something to explain the actions she was about to take.
         Slowly her quill began to move, starting with an apology and leading from there. She didn't know where exactly she would go, but knew she had to leave. Even her grandmother couldn't protect her from her father's will.
         Cleaning her quill off and setting it down with a deep sigh, Astrid pushed back from her desk and stood. She stealthily crept across the hall to her bedroom. She marched past her four poster bed to a box pressed against the wall. Flipping the lid upright with one foot, she crouched and reached inside to retrieve her armour.
         Astrid's armour was a simplistic chest piece of several plates on padded leather, her arms and legs guarded by chainmail stitched onto padding. She had liberated the whole ensemble from the manor's ground floor armoury.
         Next she went to her bed and, slipping to her knees, reached under to pull out her sword. It was a plain arming sword with a straight steel hilt and wire-wrapped handle, together with a scabbard, straight dagger and belt with pouches. This was a gift from her grandmother after she had showed more interest in swordplay than sewing. She drew her weapon and held it up to the candlelight; the sun was still a few hours from rising.
         Astrid pulled another stray lock of hair to eyelevel, looking between it and the blade. Sheaving it once again and securing it around her waist, she marched to her vanity. Her reflection looked back from the expensive glass mirror. The girl sat in the accompanying chair and ran her fingers through her auburn locks. Retrieving her scissors from the top draw, she pulled the stray lock taunt, slowly drew the blades up and snipped.
         A while later Astrid set the scissors down and admired herself. It seemed fitting that the princess in hiding would cut her hair before setting off, at least from the stories grandmother and Sir Mathew told her.
         Astrid brushed the cut hair into her waste bin before pushing herself upright, bracing her arms against her vanity. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and steeling herself before she opened them again, glaring into her own reflection. She knew what she was going to do would hurt her grandmother but she had to do it, it was her life.
         Reaching into the vanity's large central draw, she lifted a tiny velvet pouch tied with a long cord that she slipped over her head and tucked securely down her tunic. The signet ring hidden inside would be her emergency get out plan, though using it would send her back, likely into the control of her father.
         Turning from her mirror, she strode to the door, pausing only to grab the banded helmet and knapsack she left hanging on the chair her grandmother would sit on to read her stories, hanging the helm from her belt and heaving the sack over her shoulder before she slipped out the door.
         The story of the fugitive princess had the heroine climb out the window on knotted bed-sheets, but Astrid knew that would be impractical. All was quiet at this hour, the house staff tucked up in their beds or back at the village her grandmother lorded over.
         Astrid carefully picked her way through the dark corridors, dodging between pillars and decorative armour. She made first for the kitchen, slinging her knapsack off her shoulder as she sneaked into the pantry.
         Astrid knew to pick carefully from the variety of food available, she needed food that would keep for the road after all. A small pouch of coins was tucked into her sack to buy food and rest at the next town so she didn't need to overload her sack.
         With a satisfied smirk Astrid tied the knapsack's top and swung it back over her shoulder, stumbling slightly under the new weight. She moved to the outer door and cracked it open, peering out. She saw no one so she slipped out and silently closed the door.
         The full moon lit the manor's courtyard like daylight.
         Astrid scurried to the shadow of the wall, her breath misting in the cold night air as she inched her way towards the gatehouse. She ducked under the nearest window and slowly peered around towards the gate. Astrid sighed as she saw the gate already open.
                   "Alight Mathew, I know you're there." Astrid stood with her hands on her hips as the tall, broad-shouldered form of her grandmother's retainer stumped from the shadow of the gatehouse door.
                   "Young Mistress Astrid," the knight began, bowing theatrically, "you are up terribly early. Whatever could bring you outside at such a time?" His toothy smile shone through his thick beard. He was dressed fully in his tunic despite the terribly early hour.
         Astrid pursed her lips and turned her head away, unable to look him in the eye.
         "I know I'm disappointing grandmother but..." she trailed off, unable to justify her disappearing into the night so easily.
         Mathew quirked an eyebrow at her internal struggle.
         "I doubt Lady Astor is disappointed that her dear Granddaughter is pursuing her dreams." He looked her up and down, taking in her recently cut hair and borrowed armour.
         Astrid bit her lip as Mathew studied her.
         "What about that messenger from the main house?" Astrid fiddled nervously with the pommel of her sword, eyes locked to Mathew's boots. "I heard they wanted to marry me off."
         Mathew snorted, "And why would your grandmother care what the main house wants?" the retainer spread his arms wide as if to embrace the estate. "If she did, why would she settle all the way out here," he dramatically swept a hand towards Astrid "and nurture someone they so shamefully discarded."
         Astrid's cheeks coloured, her feet shuffling nervously. Astrid looked up as Mathew slipped back into the shadows.
         "You remember the adventures of Edmund Gardhall and Swift the harpy?" Mathew called softly over his shoulder, accompanying a soft rumble as he fiddled in the darkness.
         "You used to tell me the stories." Astrid quirked an eyebrow as she watched Mathew finally rise with a new burden in his arms. "They were my favourites," she sighed.
         "My noble Lady Astor had an Idea that your oh so honoured father might try something," Mathew stepped fully into the moonlight, to reveal the covered shield he held "this should help you on your quest. I asked Sir Gardhall for permission to use his crest for my gift to you, covered to keep you from being mobbed by fanatics of course."
         Astrid rolled her shoulders as Mathew strolled around her and strapped the shield to her back, supporting her as again she stumbled under the new weight.
         "It is a fine gift...but..."Astrid stammered, Mathew held up a hand to silence her.
         "And a gift it is, but a knight needs more than a shield and a sword." He reached into one of the many pouches at his belt and retrieved an envelope with a wax seal. "I have a quest for the brave young knight."
         Astrid's eyes lit up as she watched the envelope wave.
         "What must I do?" Astrid straightened, almost bouncing on the balls of her feet.
         "Head from here and past the village," Mathew leant down beside her, pointing with the envelope through the gate, towards the village that sat silently down the worn path, invisible in the gloom of the valley below the manor "head to the settlement of Bygrass. From there you go to Isenhaven and the old Chapel of the Iron Angels." He handed Astrid the letter before patting her head "deliver this letter to the master of the knights you find within."
         Astrid quickly brushed his hand off,
         "I'll take it," She accepted, carefully stowing the letter in a secure pouch at her belt, "and see where I go from there." She marched past Mathew, stopping at the edge of the gatehouse and taking a deep breath of the cool, early morning air
         The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten. Mathew's hands slowly moved around Astrid's shoulders, she felt the weight of a pendant as he placed it around her neck. Astrid's hand came up and felt the cold metal of the winged figure.
         An Angel of Iron lay in her palm.
         "May she bring you the same luck she did for me" Mathew said finally before patting her on the back "now off with you, before your father's goons come looking."
         Gathering her resolve Astrid strode off into the predawn gloom, somehow feeling both heavier and lighter than she had before.
         Mathew stood watching Astrid go, her small back slowly shrinking as she walked downhill. Once she had become a dot on the road, he turned back to the gatehouse door, seeing the shining eyes of his hidden companion.
         "So, what do you think?" Mathew asked, quirking an eyebrow.
         The watcher's footsteps clicked as they bobbed forward, looking down at Astrid's back, the rustling of feathers accompanied their movements.
         "I can see why father and Grandpa are so interested" said the figure, as they turned back to the gatehouse "I'll Follow once the sun's up," as they walked through the door they extended a feathered wing where a normal arm would be "should be easy for me to catch up."
          "Given your father's taste in lasses I can't say I'm surprised." Mathew chuckled before yawning. He stretched and wandered towards his own house, couched against the wall with a little herb garden out front. He paused and called over his shoulder. "Take her to the Marked Cask, Mi' ladies stayed there back when she was, ya know." He heard his companion's feet click away on the cobbled path to Lady Astor's manor, hoping to catch a few more hours of sleep.