Where Loyalties Lie
Chapter One
By Jessi Brooke

As the dawn broke through the darkness, a lone eagle flew in the sky. Mighty was she, and all who saw her could see this. They could also see that this was a somber creature, watching, waiting in the sky for something, or someone, to arrive.

Had they deemed it worthy to pay any further attention, they would also see that same eagle fly back towards Tate Manor. They'd see her fly so low they would catch a glimpse of her magnificent raven claws. And, much to said hypothetical observer's bewilderment, they would see her fly into the manor, and into the Dining Hall.

And then they would see said eagle transform back into thirteen year-old Rowena, and take a seat at the table.

"Really, Rowena," Melinda admonished after swallowing a bit of porridge, "Must you do that every morning?"

Rowena looked up at her fifteen year-old traveling partner and friend. Melinda's green eyes were as cynical as ever. Allric and Raedan, the other half of their traveling company, both seemed to have found it wise to remain silent this morning. This argument between Melinda and Rowena was practically a morning tradition, and an unpleasant one, at that.

"Well, if anyone else wants to know," Rowena said coolly, "I checked the borders for Helga, Salazar, Godric, and Tibbs again. Still haven't seen them yet."

It was supposed to take them a week for the others to arrive here, and today marked one month exactly. Sipping at her tea, Rowena felt like she had every right to be worried, despite whatever Melinda might think. For their escape from the Gryffindor's manor had not been a clean one, and had not gone exactly as planned. She might have been the youngest member of their traveling party, but Rowena had almost instantly ascended to the position of leader, though Melinda persisted to question her every inch of the way.

Yes, they had had to escape from Godric's father, for he was trying to use them for his own benefit. They were Merlin's Circle, the traditional group of ten exceptional young wizards and witches gathered once per generation for the purposes of giving them a most superior education. The Circle was also expected to answer to the Wizards' Council, who sponsored the education of the ten magical teens. Or eight wizards and witches, anyway, as Rowena knew that two of their members – Elswyth and Brogan, to be exact – had not been loyal to their group. And so they had been forced to leave, Rowena, Melinda, Raedan, and Allric going to the home of Rowena's sister and her husband, Tate Manor. The Helga, Godric, Salazar, and Tibbot, had gone to Muggle Manor, where Rowena's father and Helga's brother were alleged to have sought refuge from Lord Gryffindor and his followers.

"We ought to go to the Council," Raedan said, ever the reasonable one, "That's what Salazar said to do, in case their arrival here was delayed."

Yes, Rowena knew Salazar had said it, and yet somehow, she doubted that he meant it. Or, she didn't want him to mean it. She wanted to wait for him, to see him, before they had to face the assumed cold hearts of the Wizards' Council. Rowena was of the not-so humble opinion that it would be incredibly stupid to go forth with their plans without Salazar's manipulative prowess. There were also other reasons for wanting to see him again... Rowena tried her hardest to fight back the inevitable blush, failing miserably.

For the rest of breakfast, Rowena remained silent. As the leader of their group, it was implied that the final choice in any and all matters would be made by the young girl. Rowena had some decision making to do.

Rowena had climbed her way up to the tallest turret of the castle and sat. She liked it up here, the feeling of being in the air, the feeling of being alone. It was quiet, and in her opinion, the very best place to think in the entire castle. It was the closest she had ever gotten to flying without having to transform.

From this place, one could see all the lands that belonged to the Tates and their kin. Rowena could also see that none of her friends she was waiting on were on the grounds. What could be keeping them? Surely, only the greatest and powerful wizards could keep four of the greatest young magical prodigies from going as they pleased, and all the greatest and powerful wizards ought to be meeting at the Wizards' Council, which was a long distance away. So what had gone wrong?

"Afternoon, Rowe," she heard a sweet voice, and the girl turned around to see her older sister, Adela.

The two sisters could not be more opposite. Rowena was a tall and slender, plain girl, from the long, lank brown braid all the way down to her pale toes. Adela however looked beautiful even in her pregnancy – blue-eyed and rosy-cheeked, brown hair curly and interesting. But when it came to a conversation, anyone would be bored with Adela within five minutes of the introductions. Though she was pretty and sweet, she was also quite dimwitted, and never had a lot to say.

"What are you doing up here, Addie? For Merlin's sake you're pregnant!" Rowena ran up to her sister worriedly, "It can't be healthy for you to walk up here like this."

The shorter older sister draped her arms around Rowena and smiled, "Allric told me that you seemed preoccupied, and Melinda mentioned that you usually came up here to think. Obviously I had to take care of my baby sister, no?"

Rowena sighed, cursing Melinda for being so unusually observant about practically everything.

"So I have heard tell that you are calling yourself Rowena Ravenclaw these days," Addie continued in response to Rowena's silence.

"Yes," she said quietly, as the two of them sat on the lone stone bench. She had only recently taken the name, Ravenclaw coming from the spectacular color of her claws in her Animagi form, when she felt most beautiful, most free. She felt it was much more representative of who she was, better than her given surname of Hufflepuff, anyway.

Rowena fidgeted with her braid. She and her sister had never been particularly close, but she supposed it couldn't hurt to start now.


THREE WEEKS EARLIER

Long auburn hair flew out behind a man riding on horseback. Two dozen riders followed him, as they made their rounds around the boundaries of their land in a rather important disposition.

Cudbert, son of Muggle was used to patrol duty; he made this run with his men every morning. It was a dull responsibility, but as the youngest of three sons, the twenty year-old was quite used to being dealt the grunt work. Meanwhile while his brothers, Grimbol (four years his senior) and Bodkin (three years his senior) sat on their high thrones, and trying to constantly create new ways to expand their wealth.

How the family had come into money was quite a curious thing. Lord Alwyn, the original owner of this manor, had no wife or any children to speak of. But he did have Muggle, his servant boy, who might as well have been his blood son, for Alwyn treated him as such. He told Muggle all of his deepest secrets, most importantly the fact that he was a wizard, and a noble one at that, for he had a seat on the Inner Circle of the Wizards' Council.

And when Lord Alwyn had died, he gave his manor and his seat on the Council to his most favored servant, Muggle, who had not an ounce of magical blood in his body.

When the wizards had heard of this news, they were furious. Of course they would be – a non-magical had stolen a seat on their Council! But what had been done could not be undone, for the stone seats of the Council had ancient magic upon them, and no man could sit in them, save the man they belonged to. And one seat belonged to poor Muggle.

Shortly after the death, Muggle's first son, Grimbol, was born. During this time, Muggle taught himself to read, so that he could learn all there was in Alwyn's old library about magic. True, he could not actually use it himself, but he could learn what he can. And he made sure it was the life purpose of all three of his sons to know all that they could about wizardry.

And the wizards, for their part, observed Muggle and his kin rather curiously. Muggle was an old man of fifty years now, and his youngest son was twenty. For decades now they had watched the little man and his family interact with the wizards and their kin, and found him to be rather humoring.

They had even taken to calling all non-magicals Muggles, a derisive joke amongst them.

But these days, Cudbert's father had all but relinquished his power, and it was almost certain that Grimbol would get the seat on the Wizards' Council, as soon as he married. And though there were many fine young women in Muggle Manor and the surrounding territories, not one of them seemed to suit him. For he was looking for a special quality in a wife, a quality he himself lacked. Cudbert was almost completely certain that Grimbol was set on taking a witch as a wife, so that their children would be magic, and proper, respectable members of the Wizard Council. But no wizard would accept any proposal of marriage by any son of Muggle, and so Grimbol had remained quite decidedly single.

"Oy Cuddey," called out a knight who went by the name of Dunstan, using Cudbert's nickname, "Look to the north!"

Brown eyes turned to the north with interest. They rarely actually ever saw anyone on their patrols; it was more of a formality than anything. The rare passerby was usually some lost minstrel – Muggle Manor was far out of the way of the normally trodden path. Never were there four travelers all at once. They looked tired and worn – wizards, perhaps? Cudbert could never be too cautious; wizards were not too pleasant toward Muggles these days, especially the Muggles that held power in their court.

"Surround them, men!" he ordered, raising his sword and pointing towards the intruders. He led the pack as his knights, his friends – Dunstan, Eldred, Kenric, Ewmond and so many others – towards the strangers.

Their wands were out, but not one of them uttered a spell. So they were wizards. Well, three wizards and a witch, now that he could see them more properly. And pathetically tired witch and wizards, at that.

Cudbert dismounted his horse, his men encircling the travelers, "Is this the delegation the Council sends to try and thwart my brothers and I? Three beardless boys and a girl. Pathetic."

One of the boys, who looked naught more than fifteen, his black hair back in a ponytail, sneered, "I bet you wouldn't be so arrogant if there were dozens of us and only four of you."

"And yet you are arrogant nonetheless," Cubert retorted, "Now, give me your names and your houses, and if I am so inclined I might allow you to pass."

He still didn't order his men to lower their swords, despite the fact that this vagabond crew ranged between the ages of fifteen and eleven. What were they doing traveling in these parts?

"Tibbot, son of Ailred's of the Outer Circle of the Council," said the youngest, a tiny frizzy-haired eleven year-old boy. Cudbert nodded approvingly, for he had heard of Ailred before from his father. From what Cudbert had collected, his father found Ailred to be a good man, and more importantly, he was no Muggle-hater. The older three looked more cautious to share their identities, and he saw the raven-haired boy mutter to the golden-haired one.

"Have something to share, boy?" Cudbert asked.

"Salazar, of Slytherin house," said the black-haired boy.

Cudbert paused to think, "I have not heard of the Slytherins."

He smirked, and said snidely, "Don't worry, you will."

The yellow-haired girl sighed at his arrogance, as if she was quite used to dealing with it, before speaking up eagerly for herself, "I am Helga, and I have been taken under the care of Hufflepuff house, along with my brother Helmfried. It is rumored that Lord Hufflepuff and my brother are with you and your family, is that so?"

Cudbert raised his eyebrows. Helmfried's sister? Helmfried had spoke of the girl, but he had admitted that his lone living relative was plain and awkward. And yet the Helga before him was anything but…

Could this be Helmfried's sister? Well there was nothing to do but ask Helmfried himself.

"Let Helmfried forward," Cudbert said, turning to his men, and the girl's blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.

The blond man, two years Cudbert's senior, pushed forward like an impatient child, got off his own horse, and ran up to the girl, grinning.

"It is her!" he said happily in his accented voice, before turning back to his sister, "But Merlin, Helga, you've grown up in these past years! To think you're still just fourteen!"

The girl smiled widely, as if she had not smiled in ages and jumped off her horse and into her brother's arms to hug him.

And, as much as Cudbert was glad for his friend, for Helmfried and Lord Hufflepuff had been hiding from the apathetic Council for nearly a year now, there was still business to do, and one of the boys had still not answered for himself.

"You," I said, pointing with my sword to the golden-haired boy donned in crimson robes, "You have still not given me your name."

The teen refused to meet Cudbert's eyes for a moment, before raising his dark eyes and looking right at Cudbert with more bravery than a boy of his age ought to have, "I am Godric, heir of Lord Gryffindor, whom I loathe more than you can imagine, of the Inner Circle of the Council."

Cudbert's eyebrows rose and his knights fell silent. All knew that Lord Gryffindor had ambitions to win the seat of Chief of the Wizard's Council, and that he was among those who considered Muggles dispensable, and lower than wizards. If anything could save the greedy and corrupt Council, it was certainly not Gryffindor, with his particular vengeance against the Muggle family, for daring to take a seat in what he considered 'his' Council.

"Please Helmfried, he is a dear friend of mine, and he is a member of Merlin's Circle. If he wanted to harm us, he would have done so when the other two disbanded," said Helga urgently to her brother.

Helmfried bit his lip for a moment, before turning to Cudbert, "I will vouch for his honor, Cuddey, on behalf of my sister."

Helmfried and all four travelers looked at Cudbert meaningfully. Cudbert was certain that he could not question the truth of the disgust in Godric's voice when the boy mentioned his father, and trusted him because of it.

"Fine," he relinquished, "My men and I will escort you back to my home," he took a breath before adding darkly, "No doubt Grimbol and Bodkin will want to join in the questioning."

"Come," he said to his men as he mounted the horse, as his usual patrolling party, plus four, rode home. He was sure this was only the beginning of a very strange day.


Author Scribbles: Well, I'm back! For those of you who may not know, this is the sequel to my first complete Founder's story, Where Chains Will Never Bind You. Although a lot of the story has been recapped in this chapter, it is strongly recommended that you read Chains first, in order to better appreciate this story. As always, the fact that you read is greatly appreciated, reviews make me smile, constructive criticism makes my day, and flames make my s'mores.