Chapter 1: A number of first visits.

A number of first visits.

Laird Nathanial looked down over the battlements to the fires and camp of the host below. He could hear some of their voices through the cool night air, perhaps a bow-shot and a half away from the wood and stone walls of the Keep.

A man appeared at his shoulder. His shape and smell in the dark a familiar one, my Uncle.

“My Lord, they have at least 40 arms men, and twice that many armed rabble. We can field perhaps 12 trained men. We will fight bravely and die quickly. The rabble within these walls are bakers, farmers and the like. Loyal, but unskilled. Should we field then, they will be cut down like ripe rye.”

I nodded in the darkness. “What would you have me do? I will not surrender to him.” I replied evenly, no accusation in my voice or implied offence.

I would sacrifice a hundred bakers sons and farmers sons if it would save the Keep and my people, but he was right. We needed real fighters not just a delaying tactic.

“How long, do you estimate to sunrise?” I asked, thinking myself it was about 8 or 9 hours.

“9 hours,” he confirmed. “They will attack at dawn, with the sunrise to their backs.”

I nodded again. “You know why he has come?” “Of course, my Lord” he answered. “He has promised them the loot of the Keep. He is only interested in the Keep itself, or rather a certain doorway in the Keep”

I was getting used to nodding in the dark. “We could use it, you and I have rings...”

“My Lord, we would return in a quarter hour, and that’s assuming you were allowed through in the first place, which is much in doubt. Caretaker Penelope was quite clear about that during your last visit.” came back the voice in the darkness. The voice of my Uncle, teacher, protector and possibly my only friend.

“I was thinking something different, the men here are strong and loyal. Some are bound to have the proper heroic spirit of a warrior” I replied, speaking in the kind of code that only a fellow ring wearer would understand.

He stiffened “My Lord, that would expose them to ... a surprising situation...”

“Indeed it will, and if you or I were to be there to guide them through that situation, we might find ourselves with a very skilled, loyal, experienced fighter at our side” I paused. “One every quarter of an hour...”

“My Lord, it was told to us that Heroes were only to enter once per fortnight.” He replied with a sad sigh. It was the same forlorn sigh he used when we spoke of his Caretaker Ginny. “We would not be the heroes, We would be their man-at-arms, or one of them.” I pushed off the wall and turned, calling out for my Steward.

“STEWARD!” I hollered, my voice carrying in the still night air.

“My Lord...” came his raspy voice from the darkness.

“Quickly, interview the young men of the rabble taking shelter within these walls, bring them to me and my Uncle in my study. Bring 2 to 5 every 7 minutes, they should be good men, not braggarts or lowlifes. I do not care their station in life. We will interview them and then walk them down to the armoury for weapons. Ask them if they prefer to die like sheep for mutton, or like men for their Laird!” If he had any questions, he kept them to himself and with a quick “Yes, my Lord” he flew down the ramparts to separate the sheep from the men.

“Uncle, we may die in this endeavour, but we may just win.” I said as we reached the corridor to my study. “It may take real years of our time, in these next 9 hours. Should you or I be trapped in Chaos, stay near the lands in which we have influence near MillPond, and we can hopefully return with another.”

“Perhaps we shall meet there?” He said thoughtfully.

“If we do, we should be able to plan this better. If we do not, then train your men in small teams or groups of 5 or less, spears and swords. We can recalibrate after a few visits, when we have a better idea of the number of each and our success rate” I got out.

‘And if those in charge of Crossroads let it all happen’ I thought to myself

We entered the study. 3 young boys and an older man were there, looking visibly uncomfortable. They genuflected properly as we walked in “My Lords” they said in rough unison.

“Stand, men.” They stood. Hands clasped in front of them in homespun wool clothing. The older man looked like he worked with his hands, they all did in fact. Farmers I imagined.

I looked them over “Men of Isen, have you come here to defend your lands, your liege and your family from the invaders outside these walls?” I asked clearly, and slowly. Trying not to rush this part. We will have to be very careful with Hero selection here.

“I do.”, “We do”, “Aye my Laird” They said at roughly the same time.

“Very well, my Uncle will take you to the armoury for training and equipping.” I said as my friend took the ring he wore on a silk cord from around his neck. I had never seen him without it either around his neck, or on his finger. A sad look passed over his face.

“Please put this on.” He said to the largest of the two boys, who did so with a look of wonder. He had probably never seen a gold ring before, let alone worn one.

“Hold hands while I lead you there...” he said in a voice that would broker no resistance. The men looked puzzled while they took hands, my Uncle following the ring wearer out the door, where they all promptly vanished.

I breathed a sigh of relief, step one of the plan had worked ... so far. All I needed was another 50 or so steps to go perfectly, a bit of luck and understanding from those in command on Crossroads.

... and not to die. I needed not to die.

I pulled some parchment from my desk and wrote out what I wanted to accomplish, I broke it down into what could be done by men here in about 8 hours, factoring that they would come back stronger, healthier and with a few skills ... if they came back at all.

The steward came puffing in with three young men, and a scullery maid.

“Sire!” He started “These men and the maid are from families known to me, and are well met. The maid has asked to serve in whatever manner she may” he concluded.

Beggars cannot be choosers ... I thought. “Thank you Steward, my dear Uncle will be back from the armoury in about ten minutes with the last lot. Have the next group brought up here by then. Thank you for your prompt service” my unusual choice of words had him triggered to the fact that something unusual was afoot. He knew full well that the armoury was never to be entered by peasants or serfs, lest they arm themselves and overthrow their Leige. He did know the perilous situation we were in with my older brother at the gates with more than three times the number of arms men we had available. He bowed and left.

“Men (and Lady) of Isen, have you come here to defend your lands, your Liege and your family from the invaders outside these walls?” I asked clearly, for the second time in the past few minutes. They all replied in the affirmative (as expected) and I gave the one who stood the straightest and proudest at this point, my ring. “Put it on, young man. What is your name?”

“Thom, Sire, Thom Baker.” He replied clearly, looking at the ring with no less amazement than the boy my Uncle had handed his to had just a few minutes before.

“Lead the way Thom, link hands everyone.” They did, and we were off to an unknown reception.

There were the expected exclamations from the men and a squeak, which I presumed was from the maid. We were in the expected (for me) white room. The walls were a uniform white, the floor and ceiling all lit by a diffuse light.

“Calm yourself!” I shouted, all four others had arrived ... and I had been let past the portal also.

So far so good.

“My Lord, are we dead?” came from one of the squires. A whimper from the maiden.

“We are at a place called the Crossroads” I said in a more reasonable voice. “Here we will meet with our Heroes Caretaker (after we choose her) and be sent on a dangerous errand to prove our worth.”

I sat, unconcerned on the floor with my back to a wall and asked them to tell me of themselves. The two I had designated “Squires” were brothers (Marc and Luc) the Hero was a cousin of theirs. The ‘Maiden’ (Marie), had just always been in the Keep as long as she recalled, working at this and that, earning her daily bread as she grew. There were many of these servants in the Keep, some were even bastards of my Father’s, maybe many more than just ‘some’.

A door appeared, and an Angel arrived. She was of this world for certain. Clean, beautiful, dressed in a diaphanous gown of green with her hair open. I had seen her my first visit, years ago.

“Welcome to Crossroads, adventurers, I am Greeter Diane. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?” She asked in a melodious voice, which instantly calmed myself, but had the others thinking of angels and death again.

“My Lady Diane” I began “May I have the pleasure of introducing Hero Thom Baker, his two Squires Marc and Luc, and his attendant Marie. Myself I am his man-at-arms, Nathaniel of Isen.”

She regarded me cooly “I know of you, formerly known as Hero Nathan, and I know of your exploits and subsequent expulsion from this endeavour. How you were let back in here is the only question in my mind at this time.” She said this with all the grand assurances that the great women of this place had.

“Your Uncle also passed through to a rescue in the most unusual manner just recently. We will need some explanation for this most puzzling behaviour to be allowed carry on” she continued.

I glanced at the four others, rabble in my world, Hero and Squires in this one. My own demotion to merely a man at arms in this place would cost me dearly in the eyes of those very rabble when we returned, if we returned.

“My lady, the situation in my home is dire. My disinherited brother has returned to the Keep of our late father with many soldiers of his own. I can only hope to bring as many of the seed of the strongest of my people here as I may, in the hours before he overruns my defences and possibly destroys the portal to your world forever.” I put out ... I believed every bit of it, this was what I was going to do, and what would possibly happen, but certainly not why I was doing it.

I waited.

The four beside me silent and listening, but certainly not understanding what was actually happening.

If she banished my group, my Keep (and probably my life) were lost. If we were to proceed, she would need an excellent reason to bend the rigid rules of this place, and I couldn’t think of a stronger argument than the risk of loosing access to the seed of our people.

Greeter Diane stared directly at me for long moments, one perfect eyebrow arched. I had the feeling she knew exactly what I was planning, and what it might cost her to either cooperate or not.

“I will speak with my own Leaders” she finally said. “While I do so, please cleanse yourselves...” and she touched two points on the wall, leading to two different “Washing Rooms”. I would have to show my companions here how to use these unusual commodes.

I have now a great sympathy for my Uncle, for he was the one to first bring me here as his squire, almost 10 years ago. I recall the amazement of discovering this place and the magical devices within it, but I had grown used to it. To see it afresh through the eyes of these young commoners was ... extremely amusing.

Warm or hot rain falling from the ceiling, unlimited beautiful soaps, the softest towels, shaving knives that never cut you, hot air from a tube to dry your hair ... all of it met with shock and awe by these low men. I’d have to correct myself, these men were now soldiers and would need to be treated by myself accordingly.

I showed them how to wash properly, then inspected them afterwards, sending every one of them back in again to try again. There is a cleanliness about this place that these women will not abide one ruining by bad smells or stale sweat.

Strangely, the scullery maid was the worst, and I had to climb in with her to ensure she was reasonably cleaned. My reputation for keeping my hands off the women of the Keep possibly putting her more at ease. Indeed, I had not touched one since first coming here, earning me (so I once overheard) a reputation for possibly being a lover of men.