The closer they got to the castle, the bigger it got. Before long, they heard voices. Many voices. The trees parted, revealing a bustling crowd swarming a beaten-down array of market stalls. Joining the voices carried on the wind was the smell.
Ryan pulled his tunic over his nose. "Euch! What is that?"
"Method acting?" Eric quipped.
"Man, they go all out for these LARP events don't they." Jake held his hand to his nose, trying to mask the smell.
"Let's just wait a minute." Reb stopped them, putting her hands out. "Are we all seeing the giant castle?"
The group murmured in agreement.
"So what, are you saying we're really in the Middle Ages?" Ryan laughed nervously as he shook his head at the crazy words leaving his mouth.
No one was willing to admit that they had the same uneasy feeling about what was happening.
"I say we check it out. Maybe we'll find Merlin and he'll send us back home," Harley joked.
By the time the group got to the market, a light drizzle fell from the sky. The woollen tunics were uncomfortable at the best of times, but the dampness caused them to cling. Kids ran around, women chased after them, and men let out a continuous call for customers.
As they grew accustomed to the noise and smell, the new sights captivated them. Cooked meat hung on hooks, dripping unknown liquids onto the counters. Women had baskets flung over their shoulders where they carried food, fabric, and everything else you would get from a shopping centre.
The first stalls were the shabbiest, with rotting wood palings falling off and leaving gaping holes. The meat didn't look as fresh, and the fruit would have been best saved for the stockades.
Staying close together, the group made their way through the throng of people. Shoulders were bumped, swear-words were uttered, and children stared at the people with no dirt on their faces.
"I think we might stick out more than we thought." Harley secured her cowl over her coloured hair.
"You're telling me." Aadita seemed to shrink as pairs of eyes landed on her.
Two boys ran past and collided with Eric.
Reb reached out and grabbed one by the arm. "Give it back." Her tone was stern, and the boy instantly returned the wallet he had taken from Eric's back pocket. Reb let go of the boy, who disappeared in a flash. She handed the wallet back to Eric.
"What the-?" He stared incredulously at his wallet and shoved it into his front pocket.
The muddy grounds turned into stone paved paths that led the final way to the castle. With the better quality roads came better quality stalls. The people were cleaner with fewer rotten teeth and bright faces. A moat surrounded the castle, but no water had filled it for a long time. The wooden drawbridge was lowered, and the group entered between the stone pillars that reached high into the sky. Guards patrolled the entry, making sure none of the poor, unsavoury, patrons could enter.
Here the wares were of a much higher quality. The fabrics and clothes came in red and purple, the colour of royalty and prestige. Jewellery glistened from the little light that managed to shine through the grey clouds. Necklaces hung high on the store's hooks, capturing passers-by with their beauty.
"Make way! Make way!" A voice called from behind them.
The crowd parted, shoving each other to the sides. Horse hooves clip-clopped on wood as they crossed the drawbridge. Bursting onto the path was a cart led by two horses. A driver sat at the front with his hands on the reins, urging the beasts to move faster. Sat next to him was a Bannerman carrying the noble family's flag, who were hidden away in the carts that followed. The large flag flew high. The vibrant colours of red and blue danced in the breeze. When the wind was strong enough you could see the flag in full. The house sigil was a fierce boar, positioned in the centre of the coat of arms. Pebbles and small clumps of mud sprayed into the air. Oohs and ahhs came from the watching crowds.
"That's Sir Haviland." A mother whispered to her little boy. He held tight to his mother, scared of the noise. "One day you'll be big and strong like him." The boy tried his best to act brave, but didn't lessen his grip.
As the last of the carts passed, people began to fill the path again.
Ryan looked over the crowd to the castle. "We're not that far from the castle. I say we-"
"Look where y' goin' y' fool!" Standing slightly taller than Ryan, the man spread his arms in confrontation. He was much older than the students, his hair was pure white with scars turning into wrinkles.
'Aren't you a little too old for this?' Ryan wanted to say, but instead uttered: "Sorry, I didn't see you there." He knew now was not the time to fight.
The man looked Ryan up and down, then let his eyes wander over the group. "Are ye fighting in the tourney?"
Ryan eyed off the man's costume. He wore full chainmail armour. A sword was tied at his waist. A long royal blue cape was buckled around his shoulders. The edges were trimmed with black. A silver eagle was embroidered onto his left shoulder. Ryan couldn't believe the quality of the man's costume. He didn't even know chainmail was still made anymore.
The man stared incredulously back, wondering what was wrong with the boy. "What is ye name?"
Ryan's mind went blank. He couldn't remember his own name let alone any from history.
"My name..." Ryan stalled. "My name is David the First."
"From what House?" The man asked.
"From house..." Ryan searched the surrounding stalls, scrambling for a name. To the side he saw a merchant with beautiful rugs hung out on display. "From House Carpet."
"From House of Capet?" The man exclaimed, citing the royal family of France. "King Louis VII, is he yer father?"
"Yes, yes he is!" Ryan said, confidence filling his lie.
"I did not know he had an heir." The man chuckled, smacking Ryan on the back. "Tis an honour." He outstretched his hand. "I am Sir Corbin." Ryan shook his hand, wincing at the strong grip. "Ye must join us at the tavern t'night; but first we must sign-up. Bring yer servants." Corbin strode away, his cloak, emblazoned proudly with his family insignia, majestically flowing behind him.
"Your servants?" Aadita put her hands on her hips. "There is no way I'm pretending to be a servant."
"We need to fit in, don't we? Until we can figure out what the hell is going on." Ryan couldn't help but smile, liking the game a bit too much.
"Dude, you had to say the one thing that sounded like the biggest family in France!" Jake shook his head.
Harley giggled as Ryan shrugged. "Come on, George Glass. Let's go get you signed up."
They followed Corbin and his attendants.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leave your comments below and check out our official website to find out how you can contribute to this revolutionary new collaborative story series!
YOU ARE READING
DisPLACEd: Beginnings
Historical FictionAn unlikely group of strangers are forced to live together in off-campus university accommodation, they thought things couldn't get much worse. The living standards were less than perfect. But what were they to do? They had nowhere else to go. When...
