Mage Slayer (working title)

“This is so unfair!” whined a well-dressed lady riding sidesaddle on a beautiful bay horse. “We’ve been doing this for days now. When can I go home?” she asked, a pout covering her beautiful face. The woman had long wavy blonde hair that shone in the morning sun like a candle in the dark. Her eyes resembled the ocean, sometimes green, sometimes blue. Her nose was covered in freckles and curved up slightly at the end. The woman had red painted lips that pushed out slightly. Oh yes, she was very beautiful.

“She’s so lovely,” sighed some of the boys in the crowd. Everyone in the village had come to welcome the nobles who intended to stay for the night. All the boys crowded close to the train of people, hoping to catch a look from the beautiful woman. One brave young man walked up to the woman and presented her with one of the local wild flowers. He had a grin on his face the whole way. He stood on tiptoes, his arm fully stretched. The noble gracefully took the flower and gave a sweet smile to the boy.

“ Luther you are much too daring! I can’t believe you did that!” said a boy, congratulating his friend with a thump on the back. The boy’s name was Barvel, and he would never have the guts to do what his friend had done. He was a coward. Barvel was short and thick. He had a very childish look, his hair curled lightly and his full-face smile made you laugh at the cute gap between his teeth. It’s hard to believe that he would spend time with someone like Luther, but they remained close nonetheless. Together they had courted all the young girls in town with charm and sensitivity. But they were also lazy bullies, and loved making trouble.

Above the crowd of people, there was one young man who resisted the noble lady, riding so proudly on her golden mare. He was a farmer’s boy, lean and muscled from years of hard work. He had grown tall and attractive, his skin a creamy brown, and his hair only a couple inches long. It looked brown, but if dirt didn’t cover his hair completely, the blond would shine brightly. Green specks swam in the hazel sea that was his eyes, and long ago his mother’s as well. The young man’s name was Paxton. But Luther and Barvel liked to call him, Pixie. All the boys in the village would call him that even if they didn’t really know him. “Paxi the Pixie,” they would say. Even when it irritated him most, he would shrug and continue with his business.

Paxton lived with his uncle Marl and aunt Kathy. His parents had died when bandits had attacked their town leagues away. He had been no more than a child and his parents’ death haunted him in his dreams years after. Paxton rarely yelling his sleep now, but it sometimes surprised him. They adopted him into the family eight years ago, late in the spring. Aunt Kathy had been nicer then...

“Paxton! Stop gawking at that young woman and come here! Do you even know who that is?” yelled Aunt Kathy.

“I’m not gawking at anything, and of course I know who that is. It’s Lady Annabelle. A daughter from this land and second in line to inherit from her father, Duke Sven of the Phoenix House,” Paxton replied in a flat tone. The town talked for weeks of the nobles’ arrival; it was impossible for him not to know. The initial excitement had worn down inside him on the second day. It meant nothing to him. He hadn’t ever seen these people before, nor had they seen him.

“Good, you better know. Now why don’t you come here and let me get you cleaned up already. No more procrastinating,” said Aunt Kathy taking out a brush and a bar of soap. “And I suppose you also know what is going on in the square this evening,” she said sarcastically. “Oh stop right there! Don’t you dare take another step!”

Her nephew dove toward the back door only to be pulled back by his hair. Not only was he trying to escape a very probable rub-me-raw bath, he attempted to get out of going to the square all-together. He knew exactly what would happen and he wanted to take no part in it. Once every few years, Duke Sven and his family came down into the country to view their lands. While doing so, they take a few young men back to their castle to work for them. So in every town, Duke Sven picks out a couple of young men capable of working hard. They fill up the empty jobs or train to become knights. In return for their loyal service, their families receive a lump sum of gold. The amount varies depending on the job they are chosen to fill, but it is gold nonetheless. Paxton happened to be quite afraid of being picked. He would dutifully work on the farm for a few more years until he could get an apprenticeship somewhere. For now, he felt a certain honor being one of the people supplying food to the land.

“Get your little behind back here boy!” Aunt Kathy barked in Paxton’s ear while dragging him over to the tub. Even though she barely stood over five feet tall, she had a way of making herself seem huge in comparison to the person she picked on. She also had an ugly comb-over that you had to stare at when you talked to her. Her voice would grate dryly in your ear and make you think of dead bodies. Dead bodies like the younger Aunt Kathy who died brutally by the hardened farmers wife. “You will be cleaned, chosen, and gone if it’s the last thing I do!” she rasped.

Ever since Paxton had moved in with his aunt and uncle, they have tried to move him back out. His uncle was tolerable, but his aunt was capable of driving Paxton out of the house for a week or two occasionally.

“You really shouldn’t waste your breath on me Aunt Kathy. You’ll be interested to know what your son did after he got through your strenuous cleaning exercise,” asked Paxton. Aunt Kathy wanted her son to become a knight and he was sure that his news would distract Aunt Kathy long enough for him to get away. She waited patiently for him to speak again. “Luther went right up to the Lady Annabelle and gave her a bouquet of flowers. Right in the middle of their march! The little suck-up,” muttered Paxton under his breath, also hoping his exaggeration would have a stronger reaction.

“Well good for him.” Aunt Kathy wanted to get her son Luther out just as bad. “At least he’s trying to get noticed. It’s an honor to be chosen to serve our lord,” Aunt Kathy said seriously, not distracted in the least. Paxton, however, believed the money drove the force behind Aunt Kathy’s determination.

“Are you almost done Aunt Kathy?”

“No! If you would stop squirming like a baby I would be done sooner.”

When Uncle Marl came home, he swallowed up great breaths to fill his oversized lungs. He had bundles of fur in his arms drawing seat on his face. Paxton guessed his uncle had gone hunting.

“Looking good there boy!” Uncle Marl bellowed. His voice alone could shake the rafters of the tiny house. “Hello wife,” said Uncle Marl, bending down to give Aunt Kathy a kiss.

“Go get Luther, husband. I must prepare the boys for the banquet tonight.”

•

“You ready to spend the rest of your days with my parents Pixie?” hissed Luther, walking next to Paxton. “Duke Sven will never pick you when he has the chance to pick me and Barvel. We will become knights well known across the kingdom while you clean the crap out of the barn for the rest of your pathetic life.”

“You really have a way with words cousin. Fear not because I do not wish to be chosen,” Paxton said grinning while swiftly walking towards the square. He was starving and couldn’t wait to have a decent meal.

"Don’t want to be picked? You really are as dumb as I thought you were. I’m ashamed to call you family,” said Luther, completely disgusted.

The square looked spectacular. The moment Paxton passed the last house, he gasped and stopped to look at the beautiful scene before him. Light blossomed everywhere. Servants stuck torches into the ground lighting everything up. The candles glowed warmly on the tables and in the trees. He imagined it to be from the heavens. The air dripped with mouth-watering aromas. The familiar smells propelled Paxton to start walking again. He stared at all the people he knew so well, dressed in their finest clothes and showing them off as they danced. It looked like they all enjoyed the event and Paxton became eager to join them.

“There she is. She’ll be my most passionate conquest by the end of the night, I can almost feel her here with me,” claimed Luther longingly.

The Lady Annabelle had arrived. She was dressed in a lacy green dress. It flowed gracefully around her, fitting her delicate frame perfectly. The Lady Annabelle had her hair covered in gems, glittering brightly in the candlelight. Her eyes twinkled magically, stopping voices before speech could come out.

“Isn’t she the loveliest creature you ever set your eyes on? I would fight a war for her. You know I would. Did you know she is but a year younger than the both of us, Pixie?” Luther said to Paxton.

“Yes, she is rather lovely,” Paxton said quietly, eyes following the noble to her seat.
“Well don’t you set your heart on her! I see those lovesick eyes cousin! She is mine and you shall never get close enough to smell her precious perfume! She can only be mine!” yelled Luther, his voice cracking in anger. He clutched his feeble dream so close to his heart, that if anyone jabbed at the subject, Luther felt physical pain. Knowing this, Paxton dropped the subject, not wanting to cause a scene.

Paxton snorted at his cousin’s remark as he walked off to find something to eat. The truth is, he did think the Lady Annabelle looked wonderful. The dress brought out her green eyes; it was like looking into a forest- you never know what you will see. But Paxton had no time for girls. He worked many hours every day on the farm. And if he were chosen tonight, which was unlikely, he would have less time to spare.

Paxton worried about his future. Farming was a respectful work if it prospered, but what if it wasn’t good enough? He would need a back-up plan. So other than that- did she just look at him? Oh boy, she still is. She’s still looking. I’m staring, Paxton thought. Look away! He yelled at himself desperately. He could feel the color rising in his face. Then Lady Annabelle looked elsewhere. Paxton let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he reacted like that. Maybe the light played a game with him... But those eyes... Stop it! Paxton told himself. “That was scary.”

Once he regained control of himself, Paxton walked around the square talking to old friends. He talked to the butcher, the tailor, Mirk from down the street. They all had nice things to say about the nobles and they wished him luck on the choosing... Suddenly he stood face to face with Duke Sven himself. Paxton swallowed hard. He thought Duke Sven must have heard, but if he did, he gave no sign of it.

“Hello. I don’t believe I know who you are,” said Duke Sven. He smiled smoothly, a good sign. Duke Sven had a deep voice, much deeper than Paxton’s. He wore a long green robe matching that of his daughter’s. The Duke’s hair faded black to gray at his temples. The man’s eyes blazed a light green right above a hooked nose. It tilted slightly, crooked from an old broken nose.

“Um...” Paxton had to clear his throat several times before he could regain the ability to speak. He didn’t know why his body acted so oddly, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t even care for the Duke Sven and his family. And yet...

“My name is Paxton my lord,” Paxton said in a strong voice. Somehow it appeared calm, like a spring lake.

“How old are you Paxton?” the Duke asked.

“I’m sixteen my lord. But I’ll be seventeen in a few months time,” replied Paxton. Why didn’t he sound nervous? He didn’t have to control his body, a god temporarily did it for him.

“Good, good. I saw you with all the villagers. They seem to like you. You are good with people you know. What kind of job do you have here Paxton?” said Duke Sven, resuming his questioning.

“I work on my uncle's farm, I have done so for the past eight years my lord,” answered Paxton respectfully.

“Is that so? How very impressive,” said the Duke, a smile spreading across his face. “Is that how your skin got so dark?” he asked, being friendly.

“Yes sir.”

“Are you very strong then, Paxton?”

“I’d like to think so my lord.”

The Duke laughed. “Now if you would be so kind as to introduce me to your family, I believe I have something to discuss with them,” said Duke Sven, like he had made a final decision.

“Yes of course, if you would follow me my lord,” said Paxton, ending with a slight waver. Paxton became truly frightened. His gut screamed in protest. He knew a servant position at the Phoenix house waited for him, but he harbored some small hope.

“Ah yes! We’ve already met you and I, haven’t we Marl. I had no idea you had the honor of raising two strapping young men,” said Duke Sven in a friendly manner, extending his hand, for what must be, the second time.

“Yes. Paxton came to us with the saddening news of his parents death, so we took him in,” said Uncle Marl. Paxton realized that Luther had already charmed his way to serve the Duke at his castle. Only another reason not to go.

“Well Marl, I am here to bargain you out of another young man. I would like Paxton to join me at castle. Does this suit you?” Even though the Duke posed it as a question, he didn’t intend to leave Paxton here, he would take him whether Uncle Marl agreed or not. Uncle Marl, understanding this, nodded.

“Now Paxton, come with me, I want you to meet someone.”

Paxton knew exactly whom the Duke wanted him to meet; there couldn’t be anyone else. Duke Sven led him to a raised podium with three chairs. On the lowest of the three sat Lady Annabelle. She had one leg crossed over the other seductively, drawing glances from men in the crowd. She leaned heavily to one side, happily whispering with a shadowed someone.

“Hello Pixie. What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t care much for this kind of event,” Luther said glaring at him threateningly as he stepped out from the shadows.

“Paxton,” the Duke said, ignoring Luther, “I proudly introduce to you my daughter, Annabelle.”

“I’m honored, my lady,” he said bowing formally.

“Pleased to meet you... Paxton? Yes, pleased to meet you,” said Lady Annabelle stiffly, turning around quickly and resuming her conversation with Luther.

“Annabelle,” said her father trying to prompt her into further conversation with Paxton. “Why don’t you tell Paxton about some of the things he might be doing at the castle,” said the Duke leaving to attend other business.

“Yes father,” muttered Lady Annabelle sullenly. Once her father departed, the young woman changed the subject. “Your cousin has been chosen to have the honor of being my personal servant. The job started immediately.” She seemed pleased with her new prize. Luther appealed strongly to those of her kind with his looks, strength, and despicable charm. She would have fun with him.

“I’m sure Aunt Kathy and Uncle Marl are pleased,” said Paxton, trying to sound pleasant, which the god in him made possible.

“And has Father said where you are to be working boy?” She spoke as if she spoke to a simple child.

Paxton grounded his teeth and managed to say, “No my lady, he hasn’t.” Oh the nerve of her! Paxton thought. He had lived longer than her after all.

“Well why don’t you go and find out? You’re dismissed,” she said and started ignoring him again.

Paxton left in a poor mood and decided to take a walk. Going through the brightly lit square, he wandered onto one of the soft grassy hills on the eastern outskirts of the village. This was his favorite place. If you lie down on you back, you can’t see anything but the sky. He liked coming out here at night and staring at the stars. But the stars shone dimly tonight because of all the torches and candles that had been lit so close.

“What am I going to do?” he quietly asked himself. He had to leave at dawn to go to a big, smelly, old castle and he had no idea what he was suppose to do there. Maybe he should go find Duke Sven and ask him after all. He chose against it in the end, the man intimidated him. So he lay there imagining what his future would be like.

After a few hours, Paxton got up and started the walk home. No. This wasn’t his home anymore. The castle- that he had never seen before- was his home now. He would miss these friendly streets, and the people. Some of the nicest people he had ever known lived here.

When he got to the little house, he quietly snuck into his room, trying not to wake anyone. Realizing no one had returned from the banquet yet, he packed his things making as much noise as he pleased. There wasn’t much. He had some shiny stones from the river, a necklace with a bear’s tooth, some clothes, and a small box filled with his parents’ treasures. He quickly finished packing and collapsed into bed.

•

Paxton finally woke up, well past dawn. The birds twittered joyously and a few people prepared for the day outside. Paxton jumped out of bed, grabbed his bag, and ran for the front door. He stumbled blindly across he house to the door so raggedly, he didn’t see Uncle Marl entering at the same time.

“Whoa boy! What’s the rush?” Uncle Marl said, picking Paxton up off the floor.

“Th- th- the- the March!! We were to leave at dawn and I’ve gone ahead and slept through it,” Paxton stammered. Paxton tried to get out the door but Uncle Marl had not yet moved out of the way. Uncle Marl stood there for a full minute trying to understand what his nephew had just babbled. Paxton saw a flash of understanding on his uncle’s face before he was laying on the floor again. His uncle had hit him. Hard.

“You great mighty fool! You piece of dirt! You’re worth no more than pig droppings! How could you sleep this late!” Paxton’s uncle boomed. Paxton labored to see straight. He kept on shaking his head trying to clear his vision, but everything moved and vibrated around him. Paxton soon understood that his uncle caused the tremors with his yelling. Paxton filled with the fear of his uncle’s voice; the walls shook threatening to bring the house down and with it, his death. Uncle Marl took a few steps outside and yelled for Aunt Kathy. “Katherine!!”

This was his chance, Paxton had to run for it. If Aunt Kathy came, he would become nothing more than dust in their memories. Paxton sprang out the door and sprinted for the North Wall. Paxton ran out of breath quickly, he felt his heart take lodging between his ears. Paxton jumped over fences, children, animals, and reached the North Wall. He heard someone shout down the street, his signal to continue. He shot up the wall like a rat and dropped down the other side in less than a minute. Once he landed safely on the ground, no one could get to him. The only exit in the north part of the village was over the wall. Which few could do. People had to go around to get to Paxton, and by then he would be far enough gone that he could escape any punishment his aunt and uncle had in store for him. Paxton casually walked in a northeasterly direction, planning to catch up with the March in an hour or two. If he jogged a bit.

“Might as well start now,” sighed Paxton jogging away.

•


“Father was in a fit this morning, Luther. It seems your cousin was not present at dawn when we were scheduled to leave. Father had us wait for another hour, but he still didn’t show,” said the Lady Annabelle, gently stroking Luther's arm. He had become her pet, nothing but a toy to entertain her for a while. Sadly, Luther was too consumed to notice.

“Yes, my cousin is like that,” said Luther looking at Annabelle with adoring eyes. “He isn’t a very good worker. I still find myself wondering why your father even chose him. My friend Barvel was a much better choice.”

“Maybe I should talk to Father about it. I don’t want-” Annabelle stopped abruptly. Shouts traveled swiftly from the front of the March.

“Luther, go and find out what is going on. The shouting will give me a headache. Hurry up will you?” Lady Annabelle shouted, being incredibly impatient. Luther reluctantly left her side. He had wanted a knighthood, but being close to Lady Annabelle enticed him more. Luther would do anything for her, so he jogged up to the front of the line and saw his cousin in the middle of the road, looking battered. He also looked unconscious. A brief thought of concern crossed Luther’s mind before he pushed it away in repulsion and shoved his way back to his lady.

“So what did you find out?” she asked, outraged at the long wait. “ The servants have been running around for ages!” exclaimed Lady Annabelle, ignoring the fact that it had only been a few minutes.

“There is a shabby man passed out in the road. It looked like he was attacked. The person in question is my cousin Pi- I mean Paxton,” Luther recounted.

“How interesting. Once Father helps the boy recuperate, we must go hear his story, shouldn't we Luther? It’s sure to be a entrancing tale. Oh how I love stories!” Annabelle laughed wickedly making her seem much older.

A few soldiers carried Paxton’s unconscious body to one of the wagons. His clothes hung tattered off his body. He bled in several places, leaving a bloody trail. The soldiers gently laid him down. As Duke Sven arrived, they splashed the limp body with water. Paxton sat up at lightning speed and looked around frantically. He obviously had no idea where he was. Then he recognized the Duke’s face. He wiped off his own sluggishly and said, “Hello my lord.”

Sven smiled, amused at the boy’s reaction, but his brow crinkled, troubled. How did the boy get into such a sorry state? “Hello Paxton. We found you lying in the road, in great need of medical attention, which I shall provide as soon as possible. But I must address the issue at hand, which is how you came to be in such a poor condition. As you can see, your clothes are left to shreds-and shall never be used again- and you’ve acquired several cuts from the lack of protection. I need you to tell me what horrors must have befallen you since our departure,” said Duke Sven loudly so all could hear. Many had gathered around the wagon to hear what Paxton had to say, including the Lady Annabelle.

All Paxton could do was laugh. “My lord, I hope you do not worry on account of my appearance. There were no bandits, if that’s what you were thinking. Your lands are safe. There isn’t much to explain really because I can say in all honestly that I was slightly rumpled by my uncle. I am ashamed to say that I had woken late this morning, and had missed your leaving. While trying to catch up, I ran into my uncle who took a swing at me for my laziness. That is the reason for my, what I assume to be, slightly blue tinged face. And other than that, I was simply attacked by nature. While trying to catch up to the March, I had to go through a thick forest and a river. After that there was only barren land. As you can guess, I had forgotten water. I moved on trying not to think of my thirst until I eventually reached the road. I walked for a while and I must have passed out. Fortunately, I was in front of the March instead of behind it. If I were behind it, I’m afraid I would have been in more trouble than what I’ll receive now. But now my lord, you see, things aren’t as bad as you assumed. My injuries are nothing, so I don’t quite understand why I’m given so much attention.” It took Paxton a while to finish his story, but after no one made a sound. Talking so much had made him lightheaded, and he swayed dangerously.

The Duke’s face broke into a smile. He liked the young man. He delighted him in every way. “So you’re saying your bleeding wounds need not be dressed for infection? And you don’t wish for food or drink? Not even a new set of clothes? Or is it you prefer walking around naked when there’s company?” Sven could see Paxton starting to blush more and more with every word he said. The Duke just chuckled. “Morgan, give the boy all that he needs. I think we should get this March moving again. Story time is over. It was very good too,” he added to Paxton.

A pinched faced old lady came and examined everything about Paxton from head to toes. Then she left only to return with an armload of supplies Paxton assumed, for him. His heart sank as he spotted another bar of soap. Morgan scrubbed his body until it turned a light pink. Then she cleaned his wounds and applied bandages on the necessary cuts and gashes. Paxton suffered more than he led on. Not that the Duke hadn’t seen through his lie. Paxton thought of this as Morgan tried to drag a brush through his hair. Leaves and sticks that he had obtained during his trip through the forest matted his hair thickly. Soon, all the knots melted out of his hair.

Paxton hopped out of the back of the wagon and felt rather well. He now wore the standard servants uniform, a bright green fabric with a golden Phoenix over the heart- the Duke’s family crest. Paxton’s face, still a little pink from his cleaning and renewed vigor, openly showed his excitement. His hair, now brushed out and still damp, shone almost as bright as the Lady Annabelle’s. He shook his head, trying to dislodge any remaining drops and took a deep breathe of the cooling afternoon air.

Seeing that Morgan had disappeared, Paxton decided he would walk up to the front of the March for a better view of where they were going. He felt uncomfortable in the back anyway. Paxton clasped his hands behind his back and started a relaxed stroll up to the front. Paxton stood tall with pride for himself, not knowing why. He stopped a few times to chat with people, being nice and starting up a good reputation. Most people responded kindly, but a few appeared like they wanted nothing to do with him. As Paxton’s walk continued, he saw what he hoped to be Duke Sven’s personal wagon. Paxton picked up his pace and made a beeline for the wagon. He passed many people wanting to talk to him about his morning’s adventure, but he felt like he needed to get to the Duke. Though he walked hastily, a mighty hand stopped him.

“Ye’ ain’t royalty kid,” said a big, burly soldier, dumping a load of trash into Paxton’s arms. Mysterious liquids leaked out of the tightly sewn bag. They bag’s sticky juices clung to Paxton’s fresh uniform. “Every servant has to work on the March. No days off. The bag goes to one of the last two wagons,” the giant said, turning to finish whatever work he had before he gave Paxton his first job.

Paxton scowled at the soldier and turned around to get rid of his smelly package. Completing his turn, he saw Lady Annabelle’s wagon. Luther sat at her side whispering cute little nothings into her ear. Annabelle kept on giggling and swatting at his arm as he smiled at her. “They’re flirting...” said Paxton. He was shocked at how close the two had become in the last twelve hours. Paxton stood there with his mouth hanging open as the wagon pushed itself closer and closer, but Paxton couldn’t move his body. Soon, the wagon towered so close to him, its occupants couldn’t miss him.

“Why Pixie!” said Luther in mock surprise. “What are you doing here? I thought you stayed home.” Luther gracefully changed into his familiar attitude of snottiness. “Well don’t just stand there boy! Take the garbage where it belongs! With all possible speed too, the smell will give the Lady Annabelle a headache,” said Luther taking Annabelle’s hand in his own.

Heaven forbid, thought Paxton sarcastically. Paxton stomped off thinking of revenge. Dropping the garbage into a wooden crate, Paxton headed back to Duke Sven’s wagon. Or tried. Paxton wove between the wagons trying not to be caught without a chore, but regrettably he was, several times. By the time he reached his original destination, the sun hung low in the sky and he ached from the day’s work. He stepped up to the back of the Duke’s wagon and knocked hard.

“Who’s there?” came a muffled voice from inside.

“It’s Paxton. The boy you found in the road this morning,” Paxton said slowly. He didn’t know whether or not Duke Sven remembered who he was. Or if he did, he might not remember his name.

The flap blew open and the Duke’s face smiled down at him. “I was wondering when you would come to see me boy,” Sven said happily.

“You were?” Paxton said, completely surprised.

“Yes. Come on up here.” The Duke patted the doorframe and stepped out of the way.

Paxton agilely climbed up into the wagon and took a seat opposite the Duke. “Um sir? I was wondering what I am to do once we reach the castle,” Paxton said quietly, not knowing how to act in front of Sven. He was so much bigger than Paxton. Either Duke Sven cared more than his daughter, or he had a dark side and you couldn’t tell. That thought persistently fought to the front of Paxton’s mind.

“Yes, I see...” Sven seemed to be thinking about something very hard. He had a wrinkle between his brow and he stroked his beard with long, scarred fingers. He tapped the side of the wagon and a young boy’s head popped in past the door.

“Yes my lord?” the boy asked.

“Fetch my daughter and all of the new boys. Bring them here as soon as they can be ready,” Sven said in a commanding voice.

“Yes my lord,” the boy said, leaving to do his work. Less than five minutes later the boy had brought everyone the Duke had asked for. Less people showed than Paxton expected. There was Duke Sven, Lady Annabelle, Luther, six other boys, and himself. Elbows jammed into ribs and toes got stepped on bringing tears to many eyes. They had circled around, some leaning against the walls and others sitting down in front of them. Once everyone settled down so all could see, the Duke cleared his throat, gathering everyone’s attention.

“Due to certain difficulties,” Sven sighed, glaring at his daughter, “ we will be going back to the castle ahead of schedule. Tomorrow we shall leave for home. Luckily, we are rather close so it will only take a day and a half to arrive home. Now you all must be given your jobs before we get there, to ensure efficiency you are to start working immediately. Let us begin! Luther, your job is to provide my daughter with all that she requires. If she asks you for peaches, you hurry down to the kitchen and get peaches. If she says that she wants a bath, you retrieve a woman to bring her hot water and you leave. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir of course,” said Luther, placing his arm around the Lady’s back focused solely on her face. She shoved him away, casting a quick glance at her father. Luther almost looked hurt his affections were denied, but he recovered. Paxton, pleased by his cousin’s pained face, quietly snickered to himself. He returned his attention to the Duke as he listed the last of the fourth boy’s duties.

“Javis, your are a blacksmith’s son if I remember correctly. Not that I have to remember, your arms can say it for me,” the Duke said, nodding to the fifth boy. “You have also had much experience working in a forge, so you are to apprentice the castle’s blacksmith. He might have apprentices already from his own choosing, but I’m sure he won’t turn down another. Congratulations,” said Sven proudly. He was pleased with his choice for the young boy.

“Thank you my lord,” the boy, Javis, said.

“ Now, Seth.” Seth looked to be about Paxton’s age, shorter but well built. He had long black hair coming down below his shoulders and a friendly face. “You are to train to become a knight. I pray you will serve us faithfully and live to an old age,” Sven said.

“Yes!” Seth exclaimed, throwing a fist into the air. “Excuse me my lord. Thank you very much,” said Seth politely, regaining his composure.

“You are entirely welcome my dear boy. That leaves you Paxton,” said the Duke with a smile, putting his chin in hand. “I have been thinking about this all day. You amuse me to no end, and you also have potential. I would like you to train to be a captain, and maybe even one day a commander. When the time comes I want you working under our current commander, Dimitri. You shall-”

“Father no!” Annabelle interrupted. “You can’t do that, he isn’t strong enough to be a knight. He might have worked on a farm for a while, but that isn’t nearly as challenging as being a knight. He’s almost seventeen and he is still scrawny. I doubt he has any previous experience in combat. I beg you to rethink your decision. Have you no care for my safety? Will you put my life in his hands?” Luther’s hand covered his mouth, but it couldn’t cover the reaches of the smile behind it. If he couldn’t be a knight, he used any underhand tricks to make Paxton couldn’t either. The toad-face.

“Daughter,” the Duke said in a too quiet voice, “ It is not your place to question my judgment. I have chosen for this boy to be a knight and that is what I expect to see.” The Duke’s eyes burned dangerously.

“Father, you know I will argue this till you agree. Is that what you really want?”

“It is time for you to grow up and accept what is best.”

“I would, but I may not live long enough to do so when the farmer is the once guarding my home!”

Sven sighed a defeated sigh. He didn’t possess the energy to argue with his daughter. It took all of his strength to even try when he was fresh. The sun had set, and sleep clouded his mind.

“Paxton,” Sven started, shame radiating off his body, “you have to understand that my intentions were for you to become a knight. You have the skills needed, despite what my daughter chooses to think,” he said, taking a weary look at his daughter. “ I am now placing you as the stable boy in the supply stables. That’s where we keep all of our spare horses. They need to be taken care of like the main horses, but they don’t get ridden nearly as often. Now and again I’ll have the knights take a few out for a ride to give them exercise. When someone comes to use a horse, you are to prepare them yourself unless the rider asks to. Am I understood?” Sven looked at Paxton with a face covered in guilt. This wasn’t what he wanted. He truly was nicer than Annabelle.

“Yes my lord. You are very generous,” Paxton said looking the Duke in the eye.

“Leave me, all of you.” Sven looked as if he had been fighting for days only to catch a cold on top if it. He looked old and he needed rest.

•

Paxton thought about all that had happened to him that day as he lied down on his bedroll. He recounted everything from waking up that morning to Duke Sven’s assignments. He couldn’t believe that Luther had told Lady Annabelle that he wouldn’t make a good knight. How had Luther gained so much influence? Paxton once quivered in excitement about becoming a knight. It would be much more challenging than cleaning out horse stalls. Normally he wouldn’t be upset, he used to do that kind of thing working on the farm. But Sven cared and he seemed really upset that he wouldn’t become a knight. Knowing the Duke thought that he would have made a good knight filled Paxton with warmth.

Lady Annabelle on the other hand was nasty. Paxton no longer thought of her as a beautiful noble woman capable of compassion and kindness, only as a spoiled little noble girl whining for the world. She’s so wasteful that she would throw anything away if she had used it even once before.

Paxton slept on and off with disturbing dreams. They filled his mind with images of battlefields littered with bloody men. Fire appeared everywhere, then absolute darkness. The air filled with screams that tore out the throats of others. Paxton woke up sweating and gasping for breath. His hair grew dark with the gathering sweat as the blood drained from his face making him look pale as the dead.

After the seventh time he woke, he stood and shuffled off wash his face. Steam radiated off his body in great waves. You would think he had been on fire, not those in his dreams. When he reached the water trough, people backed away leaving Paxton as if he carried the plague or leprosy.

“My word boy! What happened to yea’?” It was the same soldier who dumped the camps trash in his arms that afternoon. “You’re so pale. Can I help you get anything?”

“I’m fine. I just need some water,” Paxton lied, voice cracking. Paxton knew his excuse would crumble and the soldier could see right through it, but he had to try. He threw some water on himself trying to cool his raging skin and hoped that the man would leave him alone.

“Don’t lie to me boy,” the man growled, leaning closer. “You’re pale, sweating off all your liquids, and breathing like you just ran here from yer little village. And if you don’t get a shirt on ye’ll freeze and have a nasty fever by morning.”

“I’m fine!” yelled Paxton, smashing his fist down on the side of the trough, dislodging some cold sweat. The big soldier raised his hands and backed away, leaving Paxton to stand there shivering. He knew the man spoke honestly. He would catch a nasty cold soon. Paxton slowly began the walk back to his bed. He caught a few people glancing at him as steam continued to disperse around him, but he just smiled and waved at them. As soon as he reached his bedroll he threw his shirt on. Paxton had cooled down enough to feel how much the temperature had dropped. For the second night in a row, he was tired enough to sleep through a herd of stampeding horses.

Luckily, Paxton didn’t sleep in late again. He trudged along slowly with the rest of the Marchers and when they reached the castle, he came to a dead stop. He stood in everyone’s way as he gaped at the tall towers and sky bridges of the castle. Along the outer wall soldiers patrolled diligently, some carrying spyglasses and others with bows across their backs. He could hear voices on the other side of the wall calling out drills and he heard the sound of running horses. The closer they got to the wall, the straighter the men stood. Every one of them looked intimidating, he could imagine how terrifying it would be if he were the enemy.

He shouted out as the drawbridge came down. The chains screeched against the stones causing a painful racket. Through the tears in his eyes, he saw everyday people across the bridge. He had created in his mind an empty place full of stony warriors and cold halls, but this resembled home. Only bigger. Maybe this won’t be that bad, he thought. People on the streets stared at them as they passed under the gate. A few villagers even gave a quick cheer. Apparently the nobles were well liked in these parts.

“Stand up straight boy.” It was the now familiar soldier. “Duke Sven doesn’t much like slouches.”

Paxton stood upright and said with a hint of smugness, “He happens to like me. I don’t think he’d mind too much.”

“Oh you think so do ya?” the man said grinning. “Well, the Duke and I have that in common.” Paxton smiled. He liked the old soldier.

“The name’s Merot if it means anythin’ to yer,” Merot said introducing himself.

“Paxton,” he said, putting out his hand. Merot grabbed and shook hard, hard enough to pull a tree out of the ground. Paxton’s hand disappeared in the sheer size of Merot’s rough one.

Merot tried to explain as best he could the important things about the Duke and his chaotic family, but Paxton couldn’t listen. His attention latched fully on the surroundings. The people wore bright clothing much like his own green uniform. He had never seen so many people so happy in one place. This differed from what happened in his village by a great amount. Familiar though were the adults going about their business while the children played around in the streets. One young group tossed around something round and light. He made a note to ask Merot about it later. Multicolored cobbles, which he had never seen before, made the streets. Now that he walked upon it, Paxton noted how wide it stretched and how easily the wagons moved along. He estimated it to reach two and a half wagons wide. The marvels continued as he walked. The buildings didn’t look like anything he had imagined before. Most had more than one floor and had as many colors as the people and the streets. The one thing that all the buildings had in common was they all had white doors. This busy city was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Paxton? Paxton!” Merot yelled.

“Huh?” he mumbled slowly coming out of his daze.

“Look ahead,” pointed Merot. Beyond his finger lay the castle, the actual castle. Yet again, Paxton gaped in awe. A smaller wall surrounded the castle with even more guards. Behind it stood the castle, welcoming everyone on top of its hill. Along the walls lay white statues of former rulers and people of importance to the family such as warriors, scientists, and noted others.

In front of giant wooden doors stood a middle-aged woman with her arms crossed angrily in front of her. She wore a silver dress with long dragging sleeves. The woman scowled down at the line of people and tapped her foot.

“Mother!” shrieked Lady Annabelle. She sounded very much like a little girl now that she stood sparse feet from home and family. She ran up to the woman looking for a hug.

“Hello dearest one,” said the woman wrapping Annabelle in her arms.

“Oh the trip was so horrible Mother! You were lucky you didn’t have to go!” complained Annabelle. “I got a lovely new servant though,” she said lighting up.

“That’s wonderful dearest, I would love to meet her, but now I must talk with your father,” said the woman stroking her daughter’s hair, her face turning stony.

“Best you cover your ears, boy,” whispered Merot as he covered his own.

“Why?” asked Paxton. But before he could answer, the woman began to scream.

“Sven! Where are you? Get out of whatever hole you’re hiding in and meet me in the parlor!” The friendly mother had turned into a very angry wife.

As the woman stalked off, Merot attempted to explain. “See boy, we weren’t supposed to come back for another few weeks, but seeing as Lady Annabelle wanted to come home the Duke had no other choice. He isn’t very strong when arguing with his daughter, and now I’m guessing that Duchess Meredith-”

“Wait, who’s that?”

“The Duchess is Duke Sven’s wife.”

“Oh, that was the woman on the stairs earlier.”

“Yes. She’s the mother of Lady Annabelle,” explained Merot.

As Merot talked, he and Paxton made their way to the last few wagons and started emptying them for servants to put away. They weren’t obligated to do so, but it felt wrong not to help. The servants came and went, disappearing into the castle and reappearing again and again. Soon there was very little left to do.

“So what were you saying? I’m afraid I was a bit busy to listen to what you were saying,” Paxton said handing someone a box of food.

“Saying? Oh yes. This is just a guess, but I think the Duchess is upset because there will be a shortage of servants for a while. She’ll probably send Duke Sven on another trip before the year is up. This castle is very orderly under her rules,” grunted Merot, pulling out one of Lady Annabelle’s trunks.

“Need help?” he asked, looking concerned. The trunk looked very heavy from its size.

“No... Ok, a little, yes.” Merot moved to the opposite side of the trunk while Paxton moved to face him. Merot started to count off, “One, two, three!” Together he and Merot moved the trunk all the way up the castle steps and dropped it in an already overly cluttered hall. Hundreds of bags, boxes, trunks, and loose objects littered the floor. But through it, Paxton could still see how luxurious everything else was.

A dark red rug spread across a marbled floor reaching the end of the hall and up the stairs. To where they led he couldn’t guess. Elaborate tapestries hung on the walls showing historical events. Along the right wall, a series of tapestries showed the phases of the castle that were built, top to bottom. The other wall had different scenes, some with nature, others with men.

The closest tapestry showed a man standing atop a hill with a billowing robe. His hair flew around his head in a dark mass shadowing his face, the whites of the man’s eyes glowing fiercely. Below him stood another man. He had his arms stretched out wide, but they didn’t look welcoming. He faced away, but from the way his head tilted, his screams rang in Paxton’s head. Looking closer, he saw a light sparkled around him that hadn’t been there before. It lifted the man off the ground. A wind started to blow, roaring in Paxton’s ears. Underneath the howling, he heard the bright man’s screams... The man in the tapestry fell in a heap and didn’t move. The shadowed man on the hill opened his mouth and showed his pointed white teeth. Then he laughed. And Paxton heard it too.