Children of the Province

By Jason Rogers and Glory Bell

In Children of the Province, young Aella and her little brother Tom are unaware of the adventures and dangers that life has in store for them. They enter service at Hearthstone Castle - Aella as a kitchen maid and Tom as general labor. As the Kingdom of Vasalia is threatened by intrigue and civil war, their little world of Hearthstone P

• Language: English
• Publisher: Legend Books Sp. z o.o.
• Release date: Jan 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9788367583718

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Legend Books 2024

© 2024 by Legend Books Sp. z o.o. (www.legendbooks.org)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilised in any form or by any means (whether electronic or mechanical), including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Paperback: 978-83-67583-69-5

Hardback: 978-83-67583-70-1

Ebook: 978-83-67583-71-8

Chapter One

Aella was an ordinary girl who lived in an ordinary village that lay to the side of an ordinary — and rather small — castle in Hearthstone Province. But she would grow to be an extraordinary woman. Likewise, her brother Tom, a common boy in the village, son of a baker, would grow to be an impressive and respected man. These children of the province became important people in their kingdom. This book is the beginning of their story.

First, a little background is needed about where they lived. Hearthstone Province was one of the smaller provinces of the Kingdom of Vasalia — ruled by Queen Lydia — and was located in the south; it bordered the Kingdom of Fenrik, which was an ally of Vasalia. Hearthstone was unique in that it was one of the later provinces to be established in Vasalia, as homesteads, farms, and villages were hacked out of the forest right up to the border of Fenrik. Most of the population of Hearthstone lived with the Dog’s Wood forest to their west and swampy, difficult land to their east. Lord Harold, a lower-ranking nobleman, ruled the province from Castle Hearthstone and enjoyed the allegiance of about twenty thanes. The thanes, in turn, owed him allegiance and military service when requested, so they were required to keep and maintain a certain number of men under arms, which was paid for through the villages and farming families who provided the thanes with food, supplies, and services. Hearthstone Castle also had several villages and farms directly under its control to provide for the castle’s upkeep. Thankfully, Lord Harold was neither showy, gluttonous, nor overly proud, but like any other lord, he did require services, taxes, and provisions.

Aella, a girl of fifteen years with hazel brown hair and a somewhat plain but pleasant face, and her brother Tom, about twelve years old, with the same hair color but with a small build, had entered service at Castle Hearthstone only recently. Aella was assigned to the kitchen as general help; Tom was assigned to woodcutting and general building upkeep. This arrangement, that is, sending children to work directly for the lord, was normally compensated by a reduction in taxes — one-third reduction for every child sent to work at the castle — and, for their parents, who sent two children that year, this saved them quite a bit of money. It was expected that each young helper would stay for one year; sometimes they chose to stay for longer. Apart from the yearly helpers, the castle also retained fully employed staff, including a supply master, who oversaw Lord Harold’s treasury and warehouse, as well as the cook and his aides; a captain of the guard, who commanded two lieutenants, four sergeants, twenty armed men, and four scouts; a master-at-arms, in charge of military training and weapons upkeep; a builder, who was in charge of construction and general building maintenance and who employed an apprentice or two as well as two helpers (including Tom); a livestock manager, called the hog master, who managed the castle’s small herds of hogs, sheep, and cattle, and who employed three or four helpers and their dogs; and a chief of correspondence, who handled much of Lord Harold’s messages and official correspondence. This last role was rather odd for a small nobleman to keep, but it was valued by Lord Harold because he understood the importance of good intelligence, forewarning, and a general appreciation of politics.

Lord Harold’s personal family included his wife Lady Gwendolin, his daughter Bweetha, nineteen years old (recently married to Lord Hane at Castle Red Bear), and his sons Orek, eighteen, and Matath, fifteen. All his family plus the staff and castle guard put the total population of Castle Hearthstone at about fifty people, sometimes sixty, depending on the time of year and situation. The village of Hearthstone, just to the southwest of the castle, and touching the castle’s stables, numbered some three hundred souls.

One afternoon Aella and Jerem, a boy of twelve, were assigned to clean up a guesthouse near the road, outside the keep’s stone wall, as several guests had left. It was a lovely summer night, the air fragrant with blossoms and fresh cut hay waiting in the field to be tied into sheaves and stacked. The guesthouse was empty, although the table was cluttered with cups and some leftover food.

Aella, Jerem asked, do you know if we’re allowed to eat the leftovers?

I think so, Jerem, but any whole loaves or pies or wheels of cheese should be brought back to the kitchen. Master Wren doesn’t mind if we eat anything else; that’s what he told me. You can finish the pie on that plate, but let’s bring back the other slices for the rest of our friends. Aella was thoughtful like that; she could be trusted to think of others. After they packed the clay and pottery plates and cups in a basket, Aella filled the wash basin with fresh water while Jerem started sweeping the floor.

Jerem started up a conversation: You know, Aella, at the last prayer gathering — a prayer gathering, or just a gathering, is what they called the prayer service or spiritual meeting that the folk attended once a month in a house devoted to the worship and teaching of God Pulukh — Priest Guthor said that keeping one’s soul clean is akin to keeping one’s home clean. He said that, like an unclean or cluttered home, the unclean soul is distracted, confused, and cannot find its true self, its true calling, or something like that. So, I’m trying to clean really well so my soul gets cleaned up too!

That is very wise, Aella said with a smile. I remember one of the holy books says... what is it... give me a moment; I memorized it. Aella closed her eyes and tried to cite the text from memory. It said, ‘simplicity aids the soul, for a greedy heart is a cluttered heart with many cares.’ Something to that effect... well, I think that is like what Priest Guthor was saying. Do you like the prayer gatherings, Jerem?

I do, Jerem answered. "I feel... I feel more alive there. I feel... more me, if that makes any sense. I know other folk don’t quite feel that way, but I do."

Aella just listened and appreciated the boy’s sincerity. Piety was good. Aella never enjoyed the prayer gatherings quite like Jerem did — they were often too long — but she certainly saw their value; people were reminded of what goodness was, what honor was, the value in peacemaking, the wisdom in humility and mercy where there was room for it, and the importance — and glory — of bravery in facing danger; these were virtues in their religion. And people, contrary to what they often thought about themselves, were normally in need of reminding.

A moment later, they both heard the hounds barking and the fast trot of a horse turning into the lane leading up to the wall. Aella and Jerem went outside, catching sight of a man on horseback, a small pole and red banner bearing the gray stone square of Castle Hearthstone; he was one of the lord’s scouts. He did not stop at the gate but continued right up to the large, thick wooden door of the keep, jumped off his mount and ran inside.

One of his lordship’s scouts... moving fast, Jerem muttered.

Jerem... look at this. Aella pointed south on the road. Far in the distance they saw a large crowd of people, a caravan really, making its way north, towards the castle. Though the caravan was still some ways off, they could tell that the people in the caravan were not soldiers; few were mounted; there were no pikes or metal helmets. A runner, making his way north on the road toward the castle also turned into the lane and made straight for the gate in the wall. This one was not permitted by the guard to enter without stating his purpose. By the time he was at the gate, he was too far away for the children to hear what he said, but the guard allowed him in. In another moment, Master Wren — Wren was the cook and their immediate supervisor — came to the gate in the wall and shouted out, Jerem! Aella!

Coming, Master Wren! they replied. The two gathered their basket of wares and the leftover pies and ran to meet him at the gate.

Aella, take the plates and pies back to the kitchen and come back with ten or twelve loaves. Jerem, find two empty barrels; set them up here on the lawn between the wall and the guesthouse and fill them with water. We’re about to receive a few dozen refugees.

Aella and Jerem ran to obey their orders. They wanted very much to ask what was happening, but they knew not to question a superior; if they needed to know, they would be told. As they ran their separate ways, they heard the loud, deep boom of a wall drum; three booms and then a blast from a horn. This was the alarm, calling the castle guard to man the walls. The soldiers trained at this once a month, timing themselves, becoming ever quicker, but this time it was obviously not a drill. When Aella got to the kitchen, she snatched up the loaves of bread, tying them in a sheet. She saw a cauldron of water on the hearth fire. Back to the lawn she ran, where she saw Master Wren, Jerem, and two other servants arranging the water; the first of the refugees were starting to make their way onto the lawn. Master Wren and a soldier were directing them where to settle.

Lord Harold, his sons, his captain of the guard, his chief of correspondence, and the mounted scout rode out through the wall.

Perwin, Lord Harold addressed the scout, how many of them did you say there are?

Roughly fifty or sixty, my lord, the scout answered.

And we don’t know exactly where in Fenrik they’re from? Lord Harold inquired.

No, my lord. Only that they crossed the border near Pine Lake, coming through the marshes.

Lord Harold thought for a brief moment and said, In the future, I want notice of this much sooner than twenty minutes before they show up! And they were not being pursued?

Perwin nodded and said, Understood, my lord. And no, they were not being pursued, at least not through the marshes. As I mentioned inside, your lordship’s thanes Drago and Bawlder are having the marshland border that abuts Pine Lake patrolled; they will send riders if they see anything.

Lord Harold, in fluent Fenrik, now addressed several of the refugees: Tliwi, ruzh tliwi hasantli? Lama tliwi thaabtli?

Two women in the group looked at one another, confused, and then one said, Weh don’t spayk Fenrik, mi-lord.

Ah... Lord Harold paused, then said, Where are you from? Why are you fleeing? You passed through Fenrik, did you not?

Yes, mi-lord. Weh passed through Fenrik, but we’re from the Hill Camps, some from Big Camp, most of us are from Small Camp. Weh fleeh because some of the camps were attacked and burned. Crow Camp was fully wrecked; most of the folks from Crow Camp are dead, weh thenk. As the rest of us in the hills got word, weh gathered at Small Camp; our headmen decided to send us here while they figured out how to hold off the attack, should it come any further into the hills.

The Hill Camps, the chief of correspondence, Master Fol, interrupted. That’s at least a two days journey on foot from here. Why not go to Vil Tor, in Fenrik? Vil Tor is obviously much closer.

Not sure, mi-lord, the woman responded. Our headmen told us to make the trek here, although everybody knows that the Fens don’t really like us much.

Thank you, Lord Harold said. Rest yourselves as best you can. Then turning to his chief of correspondence, he said, Master Fol, talk to these folks and help us get a fuller picture of what has happened. I want to know several things: are any men in this group; will any more refugees be showing up; and does anyone have any idea who attacked the hill folk. And turning to his son, Orek, learn from this: this is an odd situation. The Hill Camps are nestled in territory that is disputed between Fenrik and Shalamsar, so officially this is not our problem or our fight. And the attack may only be random raids, which are unfortunate, but relatively unimportant from our perspective. Or they may be the beginnings of something more complicated. As the land in question is within disputed territory, Fenrik may take an interest in defending them to further establish their claim over the hills . . . or they may not bother. As the woman pointed out, the Fens generally do not care much for the hill folk and view them as foreigners. You see, the hill folk speak our language, but are settled between Fens and the Shalamsiu. If Shalamsar is behind the attacks in an official way, there is the possibility of open war between Shalamsar and Fenrik. Queen Lydia needs to be kept abreast of what is happening. So, this is your first diplomatic assignment: I want you to draft a letter to Castle Hightower and one to Castle Brikmarl; I will write one to Queen Lydia. You and Scout Larsin will ride north to Brightstone Palace, making sure to deliver the letters to Hightower and Brikmarl. Larsin is familiar with the road; you’ll have no problems. Any questions?

No, father, Orek said, Only... the letters should be addressed to Lord Falax in Hightower and Lord How in Brikmarl, correct?

"Yes, but remember to style Falax as Borderlord Falax, that is his proper rank; Borderlord. If there are no other questions, then take Scout Larsin, prepare the letters, and get some food. You ride late afternoon. Come see me before you leave. Turning to Aella, Lord Harold said, You, girl, what is your name?"

Aella bowed her head and answered, Aella, my lord.

You’re the new lass assigned to the kitchen, aren’t you? Master Wren, see to it that two travel bags are prepared for Lord Orek and Scout Larsin. And make sure the girl knows how to pack them as well. I suspect we’ll be sending out several riders over the next few days.

Immediately, my lord! Wren answered and then pulled Aella and Jerem to his side. Come along, you two. As Lord Harold gave the last of his orders to the captain of the guard, Aella, Jerem, and Master Wren headed back to the kitchen. That was amazing! Jerem said. We just witnessed a lord’s council on the lawn!

It was, Aella responded, still trying to wrap her head around everything that was said. This is exciting, everything that’s happening, the riders, the messengers, the packing. Never knew working at the keep would be this much fun.

Master Wren smiled. He understood the kids well and told them, In situations like these, remember that the lord has a lot on his mind and the other masters who serve under him will also feel that pinch, that stress. So, know your place, do as you are told, obey quickly and thoroughly, and your presence will be not only tolerated, but appreciated... Now, the travel bag — or food bag, really — is a collection of hard wheat biscuits, dried meats, dried fruits, and a skin of wine and two skins of water. This time of year, we can also include carrots, apples, and whatever fresh garden crops will travel well. Gather them up, Aella, and I’ll show you how to fold the carrying cloth around them; it should be tied correctly if it’s to fit in the saddle bags. Leave the skins out; they will hang on the side of the saddle. Jerem, add five pounds of barley to the cauldron. We’ll be serving some boiled barley and honey to the refugees later tonight. . .

As it was summer, the sun did not set until quite late in the evening. Following Master Wren’s orders, Aella stood by the main door of the castle, with the wrapped supplies in a large wicker basket, waiting for Lord Orek and Scout Larsin. Jerem and a soldier were coming back in from the lawn after seeing to some business with the refugees, who were sleeping in whatever makeshift ways they could manage. The kitchen staff had already served the noble family and the masters their evening meal at table and had cleaned up. The large, main gate in the stone wall would be shut soon, leaving only the narrow man-door for entry and exit.

Lord Orek and Scout Larsin descended the stairwell. The young lord and Larsin were wearing their swords, but no armor. They would be traveling light and fast. As they approached, Aella curtsied to get their attention; My lord.

Lord Orek took note. Ah, the travel bags! Excellent! Well done, girl.

The two men entered the courtyard, between the main door to the keep and the stone wall, and walked to the stables, which were just outside the southern side of the castle, surrounded by a wooden palisade. Aella wondered what it would be like to ride into the night, carrying important messages; pure adventure.

Handing off the travel bags was Aella’s last task for the evening; she was now on personal time, so she walked over to the south wall and climbed to the walkway on top, greeting two soldiers. From that vantage point, she overlooked the stables below and noted the tall, wooden palisade around the stables. Beyond the palisade began the outer part of the village, which also enjoyed a low wooden palisade, about five feet tall; enough to keep out wolves, wild dogs, and slow down an enemy, but not much more. It was designed to buy the village some time in the event that it was attacked. Aella looked to the far western part of the village; that’s where her parents’ bakery was, her home. She could not see it, but she knew it was there. Her eyes came back to the stables. The palisade had its own upper walkway, although it was not as heavily patrolled as the stone wall; most nights the palisade was not patrolled at all. Tonight, of course, was different, for Lord Harold did not know what to expect, and so he prepared and readied his keep. Orek and Larsin were mounted now and heading out from the palisade. How wise he is, Aella thought about Lord Harold, always prepared. Suddenly she noticed the beat of trotting hooves and looked over to the road. In the darkness, she could make out a small group of mounted men, maybe four or five, making their way to the castle. She went over to the eastern-facing side