Castle on the Rock

The 1100s

Rowan darted through the crowd nimbly, grinning at the people as he went. Behind him, he lugged a slab of stone, roughly the size of a small leg. 

A group of small boys was fighting raucously over a leather ball, their screams and laughter filling the air. 

"'Scuse me, sorry, coming through" He called as he went. Rowan had to deliver the stone the castle building site before mid-day, or there'd be hell to pay. He already didn't do enough, as he was constantly reminded.

Lugging the rock up the hill, he stopped to catch his breath. He shook out his hands, even the leather gloves he wore couldn't stop his hands from being hurt by the rough, frayed rope he was using to drag the stone.

Bending back over, he picked up the rope and began hauling.

"Rowan!" he heard a deep voice bellow from the building site. Merrick.

He grinned. Dropping the rope and walking over to where the broad man sat on a tree stump, sipping from a wineskin. Merrick threw the skin to Rowan who caught it in one hand. Settling down next to Merrick, he wiped the sweat from his brow. He took a swig from the wineskin and gagged. 

"The fuck's that stuff made of? Piss!"

Merrick let out his hearty bellow and slapped Rowan on the back. 

"It's my signature drink, lad. I'm still perfecting it though." 

Rowan just raised a brow. 

"Yeah... Alys isn't very keen on it. But she's expecting so... I assume that's a good thing."

"Alys is expecting?!"

Merrick just grinned, extremely proud of himself. 

Rowan let out a disbelieving laugh. "Congratulations! Another Skyreed to plague the village." 

Merrick's family, the Skyreeds had at least 12 children. Remarkably most of them survived childhood, an incredible feat in their isolated village. Rowan gazed around the site. The castle was taking shape, there were men and boys bustling about everywhere. Carrying materials and tools. He could see and hear the blacksmith's bellows and the loud call of the Lord directing the build. 

He turned back to Merrick. "So how's the building been coming along?"

"Very well, all things considered."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we wanted to knock down the old stone circle, but the locals kicked up a fuss about it. So we have to include the old stones in the design. It looks like the old circle's going to form the courtyard center of the castle."

Rowan nodded, impressed. "Smart." He took on a sarcastic tone, "your idea, I assume."

Merrick chocked on his foul drink. "Don't go getting cheeky with me." He pushed Rowan back up of the stump. "Get back to work you lazy sod." 

Rowan dispersed with a laugh. Walking over to the head builder, he decided to have a peek at the center courtyard they were constructing out of the ancient circle. The stones were stacked and stuck neatly together to form walls connecting each slab of stone. 

Surprisingly, they hadn't cleaned up the actual circle at all. The stones were still moss covered and pockmarked by centuries worth of drawings, marks and if he looked closely, he could barely make out some words, names, dates, and memorials.  

"Æssa and Kae" were barely there, but it's what the letters seemed to spell.

"Elyah and Matthias were here" was one of the more recent looking ones.

He could see massive carved drawings. On the surface of the furthest rock from him, Rowan could spy a large howling wolf, made up of names and numbers, swirls and patterns. He remembered the legends of this place and who had built it. 

The idea of death scared him. The idea that time passes like shifting sand and buries everything scared him more than he could say, which is why one this one particular carving caught his attention. It read. 

At this sacred place, a man barely out of boyhood was killed by members of the Áleath tribe. His name was Wulf, a warrior, brother, and friend. 

May his soul find rest. 

Rowan struggled to tear his eyes from the words, they gave him goosebumps and sent shivers up his spine. 

"Wulf..." he tested the word, rolling the name around his tongue. 

He nodded. Not a bad name.