Herrinon

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. There weren’t always people in the valley, either, but how drastically things can change over time. Several hundred years ago, a small group traveled to the northern peninsula and stuck their swords into the land. There were some hot days and some harsh winter nights. Many died, but over time a Kingdom rose from the ground becoming the wealthiest region in the world. Eventually, other territories, communities, and kingdoms were built, but none were as prosperous as Herrinon.

King Bircher, eventually taking the throne, ruled with great power and fair kindness. He was a beloved King. The neighboring regions had attempted to take the King’s land, but Herrinon is also home to many great warriors. King Bircher kept war at bay, but a civil battle was brewing within his own walls.

Two of King Birchers greatest warriors had become the wealthiest of all the Herrinon families. The Alwyns and the Mereks. While both families were of equal dignity and didn’t need to seek out competition, Lord Melvinus Alwyn and Lord Abraham Merek could not look past personal issues. A feud was born.

The Håp Valley was the biggest in the world. Stretching through Herrinon and up into the sea. While at first it brought many troubles in settling on the northern peninsula, it has since proved to be a great ally in keeping threats away. And it has done no bigger favor to King Bircher than keeping the Mereks and the Alwyns separated, as each family lived on opposite sides of the Valley.

There was a civil war brewing in Herrinon, but that may not prove to be the Kingdom’s greatest threat. Alas, there weren’t always dragons in the valley. And, unfortunately, the majority of Herrinon’s people do not even believe they exist…but soon, they will all have to reconsider that notion.

The valley reached high temperatures that afternoon. By the time two of the Mereks’ kinsmen made it to the bottom, their sweat had pooled up under their armor. Finding a spot of shade under the rocks, Caldwell and Booth began taking their chest and shoulder plates off to let their lungs breathe.

“This is a foolish idea,” said Booth as he dropped his chest plate to the ground and groaned with exhaustion.

“Nonsense, Booth.” Caldwell looked around the valley, peaking out into the sun.

“What is your plan? What are you hoping to find? Nobody comes into the valley.”

“Again, nonsense. The Håp Valley does not mean hope for no reason.”

“Hope. That is rubbish. Hope.” Booth laughed off the comment and fell to a rock and began to drink some water that he’d pulled from his satchel. “Do you know what the people Herrinon really call this place?”

“No. I don’t.” Caldwell stepped out from under the rock and let the hot sun pour down onto his shirtless body.

“Håp Valley may be what our glorious King designated this hole in the ground, but as far as I am concerned…Håpløs.”

“Hopeless?” Caldwell shook his head. “Hopeless.” His eyes peered out into the distance and then grew big.

He ducked behind the rock, knocking Booth in the process.

“Argh, what the hell?” Booth gasped as he tumbled to the ground.

“Shut up.”

“What is this craziness?”

“I said shut up.” Caldwell covered his friend’s mouth and pierced Booth’s eyes with his own. He slowly turned his head back down the valley and pointed.

Booth leaned forward and tracked Caldwell’s eyes to another rock down the path. A man and a woman were in the middle of making love. Clothes were tossed on the rocks and the ground as the two of them were laid upon a small boulder.

“Is that who I think it is?” Booth whispered.

“I don’t doubt it.”

“That’s Penn Alwyn, my God.”

“Lord Melvinus’ only son,” Caldwell said with a smile. “Do you still believe to only find hopelessness in the valley, my friend?”

Booth smiled. The two of them quietly put on their armor and drew their swords from their sheath. They came around the rock and back into the bright sun. They squinted to keep a sharp eye on their enemy.

As they got closer, the sounds of the woman moaning grew louder. Booth began to chuckle, and Caldwell slapped him in the back of the head quietly.

Standing behind Penn, the two men began to watch for a moment, until the woman opened her eyes and screamed.

Penn rolled off of her and looked up at the two men who were pointing their swords at him. The woman tried to cover herself and scooted back away from them in fear. Penn did not seem so scared. In fact, he made no attempt to cover himself, defend himself, or react in any manner.

“Ah, gentlemen. Good day. How are you?” Penn said with a smile.

“Penn Alwyn.”

“That is me. And who might you be? Mereks? Am I correct about that?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Penn shot up to his feet quickly causing Booth and Caldwell to jump back and raise their swords, but Penn was not attacking. He looked around for his clothes.

“Don’t move,” said Caldwell.

“Gentlemen, allow me to find myself my pants. Clearly, my sword is already bigger than yours.” All three men looked down below Penn’s waist. The woman smiled. Penn looked at her and then smiled at the men. “But in fairness, you do outnumber me with yours.”

Penn bent down to pick up his pants and put them on quickly. As soon as he pulled them up, Caldwell hit Penn in the back of the head with the butt of his sword. It knocked Penn to his knees.

“Put your sword on him,” demanded Caldwell.

Booth held out his sword and touched the point to Penn’s throat. “Do not move,” he said. Penn sighed.

Caldwell, with a grimace, approached the naked woman and began to growl like an animal.

“I beg of you, sir, do not continue with that train of thought,” Penn said calmly.

“Shut up!” Caldwell screamed. He turned back to the woman and set his sword down. “This will only hurt a little,” he said to her. He began fumbling with the buckle of his pants.

“Sir, do not lose your head,” Penn said to him.

“Just sit back and enjoy the show,” said Booth with an awkwardly interested tone. Penn found his fascination grotesque.

A small glare reflected onto the men as a sword flew through the sky from behind the conversation. The light flickered and soon mixed with a soft red. The sound of a knife cutting through a vegetable echoed off of the valley walls and blood splattered onto Booth and Penn’s faces.

Caldwell’s head fell to the ground and rolled up on Booth’s ankles. The rest of Caldwell fell forward onto the woman and she began screaming once more as the soft sun-kissed pink of her skin was covered with pouring blood.

Booth looked down and his mouth hung open.

“I told you not to lose your head, sir.” Penn watched the rolling head as if it was not nearly the first one he’d ever witnessed.

Penn pulled a knife from his boot on the ground, swooped Booth’s sword out of the way, and pushed the knife up into Booth’s jaw and through the bottom of his skull. Booth’s face was frozen in panic as he was stuck at the moment in which his life ended. His body shook frantically until Penn pulled out the knife. Booth’s body collapsed to the ground.

Penn reached out and grabbed Caldwell’s body and dropped it next to Booth’s. He admired the two dead bodies and the head lying between them. He ignored the piercing scream of the blood-soaked woman.

A large man dressed as a knight stood next to Penn. He removed his helmet and had a stone-cold expression on his face. A knight that didn’t take pleasure in killing people, but was a part of his job. And he was very good at his job.

“I must say, Balsar,” Penn began. “For a big man…” Penn looked Balsar up and down. Balsar was a foot taller than Penn and outweighed him by sixty pounds. “You have an uncandid ability to remain out of sight.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I have told you, Balsar,” Penn said as he reached for the woman’s clothes. He tossed them to her carelessly. “Please stop calling me sir. My father is sir. A damned sir at that. It is Penn. Call me Penn.”

“Okay, Penn, sir,” Balsar said robotically.

Penn stopped with his shirt in his hand and stared at Balsar. “Balsar, do you think I could take you?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“I respect honesty.” He began getting dressed and put his boots on as the woman did the same thing. “As the greatest warrior in all of Herrinon, I would hope that I could defeat any knight.” Penn stood up looking at the bodies that were coloring the tan sand red. “Do something about this, Balsar, would you?”

“Sir, I’m not supposed to abandon you,” Balsar said.

Penn helped the woman to her feet and the two of them began walking away.

Penn looked back and held his knife up into the air the liquid from Booth’s jaw dripped down Penn’s wrist. “I think I will be just fine, Balsar. I thank you. But I’ll be just fine.” He smiled at the woman and the two of them left Balsar under the hot sun.

Balsar looked at the bodies and bent over. He stood back up with Caldwell’s head in his hands. He looked at it and groaned in disgust. He tossed the head back to the ground with the sound of the skull cracking and watched Penn walk away.

A shadow covered Balsar and the corpses for a brief moment and then slid away. Balsar looked up into the sky, shading his eyes from the sun. He saw nothing above him.

He looked down and bent over grabbing the ankles of Booth’s lifeless body. He began pulling the body along the valley ground. He stopped and stood up straight. He listened, keeping his body very still.

He heard breathing…a short, loud breath he’d never heard before.

And then he screamed.

The roar of his deep voice echoed the Valley walls.

Somewhere between Håp Valley and Town Hall, Penn no longer walked with the woman he’d laid with. He walked at a brisk pace passing the people of Herrinon. He gave some a nod. Some slapped at his back as he passed them. Penn rushed up the steps and pushed through the large door that was two stories high.

The moan of the rusty brackets echoed throughout the chamber room. There were dozens of men and women surrounding a large oval table. Some of the more important figures sat at the table, while the majority of the room was standing around the walls. But no matter where a person sat or stood, they turned their attention to the door and to Penn Alwyn standing alone as it closed behind him.

One grizzled man, in particular, held his gaze longer as the rest got back to the conversation. Melvinus Alwyn, Penn’s father, stared at his son with displeasure that every Lord and lady in the room could feel. He gritted his teeth behind an untrimmed beard.

“I assure you, your majesty, the borders will be guarded in preparation for any threat. But I doubt any true threat shows itself,” said Lord Melvinus turning his attention to the King and away from his son.

“Are you certain?” asked a man seated in the middle. He wore a white robe over his shoulders and a crown with edges sharp enough to kill a man.

“I am certain, King Wyndam. Certain,” Lord Melvinus replied.

“How can you be so certain, Melvinus?”

Those at the table turned to see the man who was questioning Melvinus. A lanky man even when sitting. Boney arms and shoulders. He had a long neck and hair that fell to his shoulders. It was thin straggly hair, and it had all but left the top of his head.

“Are you King Wyndam’s clairvoyant now? I was not aware you had this ability to see the future.” The man’s comment drew some laughter from those loyal servants standing around.

Lord Melvinus stared at this man. There could be a hatred felt between these two that only a couple of swords could solve. Melvinus licked his lips as the lanky man stared back at him with an obnoxious smile.

“When it comes to war, Lord Abraham, yes. I can see the future.”

“What a wonderful thing. How is that possible?”

A man standing behind Lord Melvinus leaned into his ear and whispered. Abraham and Melvinus did not break eye contact. The man whispering to Melvinus looked much like him. Both had long hair and beards that covered the majority of their faces.

“Would you like your brother to answer for you, Lord Melvinus?”

Lord Melvinus looked at the man whispering to him and nodded. The big man walked away from the table and headed toward Penn. He stood next to Melvinus’ son and now leaned in and whispered to him. Penn looked at his father and then was led out of the chamber hall by the man.

“I am sure that our borders are safe. How? You ask so smugly. Well, as King Wyndam’s security council, no colony would ever step foot within our borders without an invitation…because no man wants to answer to me.”

The smirk left Lord Abraham’s face and crawled onto King Wyndam’s.

As the King began to speak, Penn followed the man down the hallway and into a small room. The man followed him in and closed the door behind him. They both stood in silence staring at each other.

“That’s enough. Thank you, everyone. Let’s adjourn until tomorrow,” said the King.

Everyone began leaving. Chairs were pushed back, Lords and ladies were escorted out of the chamber, but Lord Melvinus continued to stare at Lord Abraham. Finally, smirking, himself.

Abraham removed himself from the table and left the chamber. Melvinus’ gaze followed Abraham to the door, and when he was gone, his gaze turned to the hallway his son had gone down.

Melvinus stood up violently and stormed down the hall. The huffing and gruffing of Melvinus as he walked was mixed with the echo of his boots on the stone floor.

Inside the room, Penn stood calmly.

“I can assure you that I have an explanation,” Penn said.

“You’ll wait for your father,” the man said.

“Uncle.”

“That is enough, Penn.”

The door opened slowly and in stepped a very stern father. His breath was gurgling over boiling blood just to exhale out of his mouth. He stared at his son and closed the door.

“Are you out of your mind? Where were you!” Melvinus shouted.

“I’m sorry, father. I was just telling Uncle that I have an explanation,” Penn could not finish.

“Every time I expect you to change, to grow up, you continually let me down. And in front of the King!” Melvinus slowed down to catch his breath. “Why must you continue to act like a child?”

“A child? Father I am the greatest warrior that Herrinon has ever seen. You sit at that table and tell King Wyndam that no mortal man would dare enter into our Kingdom and you are able to say that because I protect these walls.”

“Under my guidance!” Melvinus stared at his son. Penn glanced at his uncle and then back to his father. His eyes then fell to the floor.

“Yes, father,” Penn said unwillingly.

“You protect this land under my command. Without my guidance, without my leadership, you would be no different than a young baby suckling at his mother's tit.”

“Father.” Penn was speechless.

“You are a great warrior, Penn. A great fighter, better than I ever was, but you know nothing of leadership. You know nothing of leading men into battle.”

Lord Melvinus extended his hand to Penn’s shoulder, but pulled it back and quickly walked to the door. He opened it and looked back at his son who was standing innocently as a child.

“You know nothing, Penn. And I’m afraid you may never learn.”

Penn’s mouth hung low and his breathing slowed. He closed his mouth, clenched his jaw, and cleared his throat. He nodded to his uncle and to his father and walked by them with his head tilted to the ground.

Melvinus closed the door behind Penn and exhaled sadly.

“He needs to be disciplined. Punished,” said Melvinus’ brother.

“He just needs more guidance, Halton,” said Melvinus.

“He embarrassed you in front of the King, brother.” Halton stepped closer to his brother.

“The King has boys.”

“Who grew to be men,” Halton interrupted.

Melvinus walked by his brother and sat in the lonely chair of the room. He rubbed his face and down his beard.

“The King is sick, Melvinus. You are the one to replace him. You cannot show weakness now. Not even for your own blood.”

“Nobody knows of the King’s illness.”

“But we do,” Halton said. “He doesn’t have much time. Can you rule with an iron fist?”

“King Bircher does not rule with an iron fist, brother.”

“No.” Halton stepped over to the chair and peered over Melvinus. “But can you…brother?”

Out on the Town Hall steps, Lord Abraham watched Lord Melvinus and Halton stomped out of the chamber and down the steps. He was filled with a disrespectful joy seeing his foe so angry. As Melvinus stormed down the steps, a young man galloped up to Lord Abraham.

“My Lord?” said the skinny man.

“Orman, my boy. What can I do for you?”

“If I could have but a moment of your time,” said Orman.

Lord Abraham nodded to his men and then turned their back and walked away. Abraham walked by Orman, gently brushing against his shoulder, and looked out at the city of Herrinon. He breathed in deeply, but with some angst.

“Lord Abraham, I was wondering if I could bend your ear about a certain topic.”

“And what topic would that be?” He spoke without looking at the nervous man.

“I’d like to speak to you about your only daughter.”

“Treagan? Now, why on God’s green Earth would you want to speak to me of her?”

“Because I am in love with her, sir,” Orman blurted out. This drew Abraham's eyes to turn and pierce Orman. “Respectfully, my Lord. I am sorry for my bluntness, but I know your time is important. I love your daughter, sir, and I ask you for her hand in marriage.”

“Marriage?” gasped Abraham. “Surely, you must be joking.”

“I am not, my Lord. Treagan is a fine young woman who would make a wonderful wife. And I, my Lord, a man that would make a woman very happy.”

“You think? You?”

Orman nodded. He was nervous and uncomfortable. There was no confidence in his appearance or in his shaky words.

“I’m amused, otherwise I would be walking away from you and this preposterous conversation. Why, my man, do you believe yourself to be a good husband for my daughter?”

Orman looked away in thought. He was not thinking of an answer, but deciding if he should say the answer he’d already thought of. He shrugged his shoulders and looked deep into Lord Abraham’s eyes.

“Money, my Lord. My family is one of the richest in Herrinon.”

Abraham nodded and smiled. He put his hand out and gently onto Orman’s back. He guided him down the steps. “Continue, Orman. Continue.”

Dusk was approaching. Penn stood on his balcony peering off to Håp Valley. His eyes were concerned. His mind was exhausted from the day’s tasks, but he dug down deep and grabbed his boots. He threw them on and ran out of his family’s home. As he knew something was not right.

An hour later, as the sun was falling past the horizon, Penn was down deep in the Håp Valley. He was tripping over the rocks and swallets in the ground. Finally, Penn came to the boulder where he spent the morning with his mistress. After realizing it was the boulder, he stopped and looked around at the surrounding area. He looked up in the sky and around the valley walls. He stared at the ground and kicked around the dirt.

Lord Melvinus sat on a chair in his bedroom. He breathed slowly looking out the window and over Herrinon. He looked at his beautiful wife who was sleeping in the bed. He smiled with comfort knowing that he would soon make her the Queen of Herrinon.

Melvinus quietly exited his room and walked down the hall and out the back door. He placed his hands on his hips and stared up at the sky that was turning dark. His heavy eyes closed and he breathed.

In the valley, Penn dropped to his knees and felt the ground below him. It was red. The blood had dried and stained the sand on the ground. He stood to his feet and followed the dried trail of blood. He followed a few dozen feet before stopping.

The bodies of Caldwell and Booth were missing. They were nowhere to be found. But neither was Balsar. Penn stared at the ground where he had stopped. Dripping to the toes of his boot was a large pile of blood. A pool of it.

Under the falling son, Melvinus’ eyes popped open. His breathing was shaky and his mouth slowly opened. His face dropped forward and blood dripped down his lip. He gasped again as a knife was pulled out of his back. He turned slowly and felt the pressure of another stabbing. He reached out to grab the intruder, but the stabbings came again, quicker, one after the other. As Melvinus dropped to a knee, he’d been stabbed over a dozen times. He fell to the cement and blood covered the ground.

Penn looked back and forth and just out ahead of the giant circle of blood were broken pieces of armor. Balsar’s armor. It appeared to have been ripped from his body.