"Chronicles of Wildmoor" by Sarah ´SRW´ Bevon

Magistrate Ungatt was a terrible man. He was big and fat, with tons of ugly black hair and an ugly black beard. He was rude and coarse and drank a lot. He thought shopkeepers liked to cheat him and called them ‘bloody peasants’, often to their faces. If anyone got in his way, they were clubbed aside by his brass tipped cane.
That was the trait which came to Josh’s mind when he thought of the magistrate. That horrid cane that hit dogs, cats and small children. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be around much longer. Tomorrow, when they reached Corinth, Magistrate Ungatt would go about his business elsewhere. Josh, on the other hand, would meet his new gaurdian.
Now that his father was dead, Josh had only distant relatives. His mother had disappeared three years ago. His closest relative, both in location and relation, was his mother’s cousin. A few hour’s walk outside Corinth lay Wildmoor Castle and it’s grounds. This was where he was bound.
As they rode into Corinth during the dawn of the next morning, having stayed in an inn on the outskirts, Josh kept his eyes open for anyone noble. Nobles enjoyed being flashy, so his new guardian would stick out like the parrot he had once seen in a menagerie amongst the sparrows that fluttered in the eaves overhead. He was disappointed, however, when they reached the court house and no one was there waiting for them. A few people went about their daily business, talking to clerks, paying taxes or receiving loans. The little building would fill up quickly later in the day, as every commoner who thought he could rule the country better than the king came to make himself heard.
Five minutes later a man rode up on a large coarser. Josh had been hoping, expecting really, that he be fetched by someone on a destrier. The rider, too, was a bit of a disappointment. He was large, though well built and strong rather than beefy like the magistrate, but his clothes were plain for all they were good quality. No brightly colored silks, no flashing jewels.
Ungatt when to speak to the man, who neglected to dismount. Had the man been any less a warrior, this would have earned him a solid blow from the cane. Ungatt just scowled deeper, though, and spoke quietly in his usual vocabulary of grunts.
The man seemed startled at something the magistrate said. “Wildmoor?” Upset might even have been a better word for it. “I assumed it would be Lesser Hollow, or Carmine Tower.” His was a ringing voice, better suited to a battlefield than a quiet conversation. He paused while Ungatt growled something else. “Well, there’s nothing wrong, exactly. It’s just not what was expected. You needn’t worry,” he added, responding to some change in the magistrate’s expression. “He’ll get there safe enough. Can’t make any promises once he’s there, though. Still…oh, what’s the use? Never mind.”
In less time than it had taken this conversation to take place, Josh was riding out of the city behind the man. Outside the city, as they traveled over small, rolling green hills, Josh forced himself to approach the man. “What’s wrong with Wildmoor?” he asked, not for the first time worried about what his guardian would be like. This was the first time, though, that he’d seen any reason to worry.
“Nothing, exactly. I just thought you’d have a different guardian. It won’t bother you, though. You have that look.” He fell silent, leaving Josh to wonder why he’d put such an emphasis on the last two words.
They arrived at the gate of the castle in short order. Neither had spoken another word. The man deposited Josh in a room, then left to deal with Josh’s bags and horse. The room seemed to be a comfortably furnished study, presumably that of his new guardian. While well decorated, there was nothing to give any indication of what this mysterious new force in his life was going to be like. Though what the man said had been far from reassuring.
When a bell rang presently, two young women came into the room. “I’ll say one thing for Tomas,” said one, “he was right. The boy does have the look.” She too emphasized these words. The girls were the same height, but otherwise completely different. The one who had spoken had black hair and green eyes, a classic beauty, was dressed in a dark blue gown. Josh had memories of his mother dressed similarly, although they were the soft, fuzzy memories of a child, so he couldn’t be sure how accurate his recollection was.
The other might have been equally beautiful, if her pale blond hair, which looked so pale as to seem prematurely white, had been combed, and her clothes less dirty and rumbled. Her eyes had a pale, crystal quality to the blue. All in all, Josh thought, someone might carve her likeness in glass and be very nearly accurate. Though diamond would be better to capture the harness of the gaze and set of the jaw.
“What’s your name?” asked the black-haired one. Josh gave it, though the lady probably already knew. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Oranie.” She seemed oddly self assured for servant, Josh thought. A lady-in-waiting or some such, perhaps. The other almost certainly was. No noble would allow themselves to be seen in such a disordered state. “And this,” Oranie continued, shooting a dark look at her companion, “is Adalia. She’s your new guardian.”
Josh blinked and stared at the woman before him. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen. Far too young to be a guardian. And… a noble? Her? Where were the silks and jewels, the gold and perfume?
“What’s wrong, lad?” Adalia asked. “You’ve something on your mind.” Rather than relate his thoughts, Josh mentioned the comment that the man – Tomas – had made.
“Oh, that. It’s just an old superstition.” She shrugged. “Some put a lot of store by it. Runs in the family, you understand. Not all of us have it. You’re mother didn’t. Basically, it comes down to pale coloring. They all figure you’re something special if you have it. As to the other part, well, Tomas doesn’t think I should be your guardian. Doesn’t think I’m responsible enough, I suppose. At a guess, he expected you to live with my brother, or even my aunt. They hold Lesser Hollow and Carmite Tower. But then,” she grinned wickedly, “Tomas thinks I should spend my days sewing and washing and the like.”
“Maybe you should listen to him,” Oranie put in. It sounded like an old argument. Privately, Josh agreed with her. While Adalia seemed likeable enough, he was used to women being meek and mild – except with their charges, sometimes – not, well, crazy.
“But don’t let any of that bother you,” Adalia said easily, as if she didn’t notice, or didn’t care, that people thought she was a bit crazy. “Josh, why don’t you go get ready for lunch. Oranie will show you to your room.” There was something in her voice, a tone of command, that allowed for no argument.
Oranie led Josh to a small, spartan room, which it seemed was to be his. Considering the obvious wealth of the castle, he was more than a little disappointed. Adalia was his guardian, wasn’t she? She should at least give him a decent room, not a little cell. He’d lived in better than this with his father, who hadn’t been overly wealthy.
He forced himself not to say anything, and spent the next while unpacking his few bags and cleaning up. He put on the clothes Oranie had left on the bed, though he privately thought his own were better. He wanted to make a good impression, after all. Oranie had been quite firm about that, however, so after a short internal struggle he put them on. They were a bit baggy, and more than a little worn. Second or third hand, if not older.
When the bell rang, as Oranie had said it would, he left his room and stood in the narrow hallway as instructed. To his surprise, boys poured out of the doors around his, all wearing clothes similar to his. More came down the stairs at the end of the hallway, shoving and joking. What were they all doing here, he wondered. Were they servants, perhaps? Was he to work while he was here? Adalia hadn’t seemed the sort to put a boy under her care to work with the common folk, but then, she’d also seemed a bit crazy.
Adalia appeared in the hall among the boys, a pale point in a mass of color. She paused for a second and gestured to a boy, the jerked her head at Josh. She never even looked at him before moving on with the mass that surrounded her.
The boy Adalia had indicated detached himself from his friends and slid through the crowd to meet Josh. Will, as he introduced himself, was short, with brown hair and eyes and an infectious smile. Josh quickly found himself telling his new companion all about how he’d come to Wildmoor.
“Really?” he cried excitedly. “That’s great. You’d have hated Lady Dacia as a guardian. She’s a bit,” he lowered his voice like a conspirator, “well, old and stuck up.”
“But would she have put me with the servants?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“That’s what Adalia’s doing, isn’t it?”
This brought a shocked laugh from Will. “Not in the least. You mean she didn’t tell you. No, of course not,” he said, answering his own question. “It’s just like her to forget. She’s the Training Master, well, Mistress really, of the realm’s pages. That’s who we are. I guess she just stuck you in with us, because she raises us all anyway.” That explained so much. The small quarters, the worn outfits, all the other boys. Even Adalia’s dress. She could have told me, he thought a bit grumpily.
“What’s it like?” he asked Will a bit hesitantly.
“Hard, at first,” Will admitted. “But after that… I mean, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” He started describing all the people Josh would get to meet, until names and positions mingled with descriptions that Josh couldn’t hope to remember. “Don’t worry,” the other boy assured him, “you’ll get to know everyone really fast.”
Seated at a long table, waiting for their lunch, Will suddenly looked up at the head table and groaned. There were only a handful of people at the long table that ran perpendicular to the others, all of which held servants, pages and the usual people that fill a castle. The head table was reserved for the nobility of Wildmoor and their guests. It was supposedly so everyone could see who was really important in the hall, but Will muttered that it was really so the teachers, and Adalia in particular, could keep an eye on everyone at the same time.
“My father’s here,” Will said by way of explanation. “It’s embarrassing, the way he fights with Adalia. At least she doesn’t take it out on me,” he said glumly. “But just watch. The two can’t get through a single meal together.” Sure enough, halfway through the meal a tall, imposing man, dressed as Josh expected a nobly born knight to be, though not quite as fancily as he would have guessed, stormed out. He was a tall, broad shouldered man, with Will’s brown hair and a short cropped beard that matched, who carried himself as if he knew his position in the world, and it was right at the top.
After lunch the boys went to collect Josh’s new things. The quartermaster gave him a pile of blue tunics like the one he already wore, as did Will, the same brown britches and shirts that might have once been white. All the things were variously old and worn, but so, it seemed, were everyone else’s.
“No point in destroying new clothes all the time,” Will said with a shrug.
One uniform was brand new. The black tunic was full sleeved and light, rather than heavy and sleeveless, the shirt good quality. Black hose accompanied it rather than heavy brown britches. Fine black shoes were placed on top of the pile, so new they probably pinched. “With luck they’ll stay that way,” Will said. “Wearing that uniform always means some highly refined torture.”
The two black cloaks and the calf-high leather boots were brand new too. “They’ll get old quick enough,” Will told him, proudly displaying his own boots, which were scuffed and brown-gray with dust, dirt, and who knew what else.
At the stables he was assigned a horse, a brown mare, sturdy and strong like all the others in the pages’ stable. Will showed him where the tack was kept at the back of the large stall, along with the brushes and picks he would use to care for his mount, then led him on a whirlwind tour of the castle.
It all passed in a  blur until supper. It was then, sitting at one of the long tables with Will and his friends, that Josh noticed there were a few girls amongst the boys.
“Yea,” Will said when he mentioned it, “but they won’t be here for long. None of them have every become squires yet. Except Adalia, they all drop out.” There was one that Josh hoped wouldn’t drop out, a beautiful blond in the green uniform of a second year page.
Will’s father appeared to have left, but there were others that hadn’t been there at lunch. Once, a young man with golden hair, smiled at him and nodded. Josh guessed, from Will’s description and the man’s resemblance to Adalia, that this must be Lord Anders of Lesser Hollow, Adalia’s brother. Tomas was talking to him, leaning around an upright old lady with a queenly air so he could see his audience. The woman did not seem best pleased by Tomas’s lack of manners, but neither man seemed to notice, or care if they did. The woman, then, must be the much disliked but generally put up with Lady Dacia.
Over the next years he would grow to know there people well, but for now Josh was content to wait for what tomorrow would bring.