Chapter 2 – Night Fury
Sammael woke to the hammering of Lilith's fist on the door to his cell. This was his usual wakeup call, so he was shocked of sorts when the woman threw the door open and stalked fiercely into his small room.
"Wake up lazy boy!" she screeched. She looked a mess, her dark hair was in disarray and her nose wrinkled in disgust.
Looking through squinted eyes, Sammael curled up into a ball, trying to ignore the banshee-like woman. "Five more minutes," he mumbled into his shoulder.
Reaching down, Lilith pulled the thin blanket out from his protesting hands. "Go and feed the animals, now!" she yelled, the volume of her voice seeming to increase with every word, which seemed impossible.
As she left the room, Sammael groaned and rose, stretching his aching limbs. He didn't think it was very good for his limbs sleeping in such a small space, and he always seemed to wake up in strange positions, with his limbs sprawled everywhere.
Sammael grabbed a small loaf of old, almost stale bread (all that he was allowed for breakfast) and walked out to the stable. He threw a couple of biscuits of hay to the horses, as well as feeding the pigs in their pen, the cows in their yard, and the chickens in their coops, grabbing the couple of eggs that he found as he left.
Hoping that he wouldn't have any more chores to do for the morning, Sammael walked back to the house, sneaking around the back. Grabbing the longbow and quiver of arrows that he had stowed there, as well as the small hunting knife he had 'liberated' from one of the local hunters, he looked around for Lilith and, not seeing her anywhere within eyesight, made a break for the woods up the slight slope that separated the southern side of the village from the forest.
Reaching the tree-line after a brief sprint, Sammael basked in the feeling of the adrenaline running through his body. Everything seemed brighter, clearer, something which he couldn't really explain if anyone apart from himself had ever experienced the feeling.
Bringing his arm up to shade his eyes, the raven-haired boy looked down over the still-slumbering village and he felt a rush of anger at the thought of the aggressive, rude, and often downright filthy inhabitants of the run down hovels situated before him.
Lilith's mildly larger house stood proudly at the southern border of the village, the woman's fields covering the mild slope between the building and the edge of the forest. The only road that led out of the village began at Lilith's doorstep, heading northwards in a straight line towards Castle Gryffindor. Sammael had never been beyond sight of the village before, and had been warned by Lilith that if he did, it would be the last mistake that he ever made. Therefore Sammael made a point of only travelling to the south of the village, towards the coast.
Turning his back on his so-called home, Sammael trotted to the edge of the forest while throwing the quiver of arrows onto his back and carefully placing the unsheathed knife in a special section of his belt that he had made just for that purpose.
The vast trees that made up the forest surrounding Carinda never failed to amaze Sammael. He had watched a small sapling that had sprouted near the edge of the woods for years, and found it dumfounding how slow it grew. In comparison, he believed that many of the trees that made up the forest were over a hundred years old if they grew at the same rate as the sapling.
Another hour of travel found Sammael walking briskly along the small path that he had cleared during his many trips into the woods, Sammael's eyes moved restlessly across the forest floor, searching for any small animals that he could supplement his crusty bread with. Rabbit was always desirable, but sometimes he had to settle for something smaller and bonier meals.
A flicker of movement in the brush caught his attention. A decent sized rabbit was munching on some grass a dozen or so paces ahead. Moving slowly, Sammael strung his bow and nocked an arrow, drawing the frayed string back to his cheek in a single smooth movement and taking a deep breath. Holding this pose for what seemed an eternity, Sammael released the arrow, which flew swiftly towards his target. A short screech of pain later, and the hungry boy now had his food for the morning.
After skinning the rabbit he had shot, Sammael had lit a small fire and enjoyed a relative feast compared to what he was used to. Sammael then spent several hours wandering around the peaceful forest. It sure beat staying back at Carinda with Lilith and her constant screeching, he thought to himself with a small grin.
Looking up at the sun through the forest canopy, he reckoned that there were only a couple of hours left before sunset and despite his love of his forest retreat, it was not a place to stay after dark. Sighing in defeat, Sammael turned back to the north and began walking back through the short grass that made up his path.
A distant noise from towards the coast startled him for a moment before he realised that it was just a horse neighing. Sammael's brows furrowed as he wondered who exactly his companion was in the remote forest. As far as he knew, the only person that owned horses anywhere in the immediate area was Lilith, and she couldn't have possibly got between him and the coast without noticing her beforehand.
As always, curiosity won the day and Sammael moved quietly through the grass, ghosting from tree to tree as he made his way towards where he had last heard the noise. Another neigh echoed through the trees, this time close by, with voices accompanying it. Hiding behind a large bush, Sammael peeked through a gap in the leaves and waited.
His wait was not long, as a column came into view almost immediately, two ranks of armoured men marching between a handful of horsemen, a blue flag with strange symbols on it fluttering over the front rank of infantry. A bare-headed man with a long scar running down his face ordered his men forward in a language unknown to the boy watching them pass.
"They don't look very friendly," Sammael muttered to himself. Indeed, the way the footmen were carrying their bows seemed to indicate that they weren't walking through the forest for fun.
The dark-haired boy's face paled as he suddenly realised where they were headed: Carinda. As much as he didn't love the people there, it was still his home, and these soldiers were sure to raze the defenceless village to the ground.
Carefully checking that none of the soldiers were looking in his vicinity, Sammael crept quickly from his hiding position, looking over his shoulder every few seconds to check that he had not been seen.
Once out of sight of the men he ran.
He ran faster than he had ever run before, skidding down the path and losing his footing in the falling darkness.
After what seemed like an eternity the lights of Carinda were finally visible to Sammael through the tree trunks. The boy breathed a heavy sigh of relief and wiped away the sweat that had gathered on his forehead during his blistering run through the darkness.
Realising that the soldiers were probably not that far behind him, Sammael trotted down the slope heading straight for Lilith's house.
Unfortunately, compared to his luck this morning with the rabbit, Sammael's luck this evening took a turn for the worst. A deep horn sounded from behind him, and Sammael watched in horror as the foreign soldiers swarmed down the slope, every man holding a lit torch and a naked blade that shone in the firelight. The horsemen that had shadowed the infantry in the forest were bringing their mounts to a gallop as they charged the nigh-defenceless village.
Sammael's arms seemed to move of their own violation. One moment he was standing stock still, the next an arrow was whistling through the air towards the closest enemy, who fell with a brief scream of pain.
"What have you done?" Lilith's voice screeched from behind him over the thunder of the approaching cavalry. Turning towards his owner's voice, he barely had a chance to see the furious woman approach, holding a knife from her kitchen, before she pushed him down onto the hard ground. "You brought them here! You brought them to kill us, you freak!" she screamed hysterically as she brought her arm up to strike him with her knife, but the blow never came.
The thundering hooves became impossibly loud, and Sammael watched in horror as one of the cavalry thrust his spear through Lilith's chest and out the other side before riding on into the village and unsheathing his sword.
Lilith's eyes bulged in shock as she stood shakily for a moment, the spear hanging out of her body obscenely, before she collapsed onto the ground next to Sammael and stopped moving completely.
Sammael scrambled away from the body of the closest thing he had to family. He couldn't tear his eyes away from Lilith's own. A scream of rage brought him back to reality as one of the passing foot soldiers bore down on him, sword raised above his head and yelling some foreign war cry.
"NO!" Sammael screamed as the sword descended, holding his hands in front of him as if they could stop the cold steel from slicing through his body.
The air around him seemed to groan, and Sammael felt cold for a moment before the soldier was flung through the air by some invisible force before coming to an abrupt halt when he crashed into the side of Lilith's house.
Sammael stumbled to his feet and locked down in shock at his hands. "What in God's name was that?" he mumbled to himself.
A sudden explosion made Sammael fall to the ground as the earth moved unexpectedly. A burst of fire in the middle of the village had engulfed the horseman that had killed Lilith.
A band of horsemen in red clothing and shining armour rode into the village from the north like a scene from one of the storyteller's tales. At the column's head was a giant of a horse, ridden by a giant figure with flaming red hair and a silver sword. As the man waved his hand once more and another explosion of fire claimed the lives of two more soldiers.
"Lord Godric," Sammael whispered in awe.
The horsemen following the British warlord swept through the village at a barked word from their lord, their lances glittering red in the firelight as they speared them through the invading infantry.
Lord Godric seemed to survey the area for a second before he spurred his stallion forward, slashing his sword down against a running infantryman, flinging a bloody trail through the air. The nobleman flicked his hand almost lazily at a trio of swordsmen that had taken up a defensive position over the fallen body of a Gryffindor horseman, flinging the men through the air as if they had been flicked by the hand of God.
Sammael's eyes widened as he saw the effect of the motion, the same effect as what he himself had done earlier to the enemy soldier and Sammael wondered if he really performed magic.
Suddenly, one of the raiding horsemen raced around the corner of a house behind Lord Godric and, seeing an opportunity to deal a gain status, levelled his lance at the Briton and began his charge. Sammael cried out a wordless warning as he moved his shaking arms blindingly fast, nocking an arrow and releasing it within the same breath, something he would normally never do on the hunt.
The nobleman twisted at the shouted warning, a snarl forming on his lips as he twisted his horse's reins desperately to avoid the approaching lance, flicking his sword around into an attack position. This was all unnecessary, however, as Sammael's arrow flew straight through the unprotected neck of the soldier, a geyser of blood erupting from the man's throat as he relinquished his hold on his weapon in a desperate attempt to stop the blood from flowing. A second later, just before he reached the spot where his lance would have likely skewered Lord Godric, the horseman fell from his horse, hitting the dirt road heavily and twitched for a moment, before lying perfectly still.
Sammael fell to his knees with a gasp, his bow falling from nerveless hands as the realisation of what he had done, and what had happened that night finally sunk in. He desperately tried to hold his suddenly heavy torso up with his shaking arms, trying to fight off images of the shadowy faces of the men he had killed.
Heavy footsteps approaching made Sammael's head rise almost unconsciously, and he found himself staring into the steel-grey eyes of Lord Godric as the nobleman knelt down beside him.
"What is your name, child?" Godric asked, his voice a low rumble as he steadied Sammael's shaking body by placing a surprisingly gentle hand on the boy's shoulder.
"S-Sammael, my lord."
"Sammael," the red-haired man whispered softly, as if weighing the name in his mind, "Son of whom?"
"I-I don't know, my lord," Sammael whispered back, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment at revealing his deepest shame to his greatest idol.
"My lord," a soldier called from across the village, near the sea-side boundary, "The village is secure."
Godric nodded to the soldier, briefly taking his gaze from Sammael. "You fought bravely today, Sammael, Son of None. I owe you a Life Debt now," the lord said, smiling softly as he looked back at the exhausted boy. "And I intend for you to collect it. There is always a place in my guard for those brave of heart. Would you do me the honour of entering their ranks?"
Sammael's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and he seemed to have something stuck in his throat that stopped his words from forming, so Sammael nodded furiously before the events of the day caught up with him and he passed out, being saved from smashing his forehead into the ground by Godric's strong arms.
Godric smiled knowingly down at the boy, standing and lifting him in his chainmail covered arms. He knew magical exhaustion when he saw it. The smile disappeared quickly as Godric wondered what seemed so familiar about the child. Gesturing something to one of his knights, the lord of Gryffindor castle disappeared with a loud crack along with Sammael, who would never to enter Carinda again.