Baron Stanislav Orlovsky Northstar was a competent man faced with a vital task. On the edge of the Orlovsky lands sat the Northstar fief. From the walls of his squat but sturdy keep he kept a wary eye on the House’s border just miles away. The Baron knew that if the Orlovsky lands were invaded he stood little chance of survival. Survival was not the duty he was entrusted with. His task, his honor, depended on him getting a message off in time to alert the Orlovsky House armies if the border was breached.Stanislav was the son of a man who was the third brother to a long deceased ruler of the House. He was proud of his pedigree and determined to see his blood inherit the task that he had been given by his father. His first wife produced four sons and passed away from fever.
“An heir and a spare” was the saying in Brevoy. Stanislav’s first son, Maksim was everything he could hope for in an heir. Maksim had inherited his mother’s handsome looks and his father’s strength and will. Stanislav’s second son, Akim was the largest of the four brothers. An image of his father, he possessed great strength and showed little subtlety in combat and warfare. He preferred brute force and his father reflected that he would make an excellent strong arm for his older brother’s rule. Bronislav, the third boy, was the antithesis of Akim. Like Akim he possessed his father’s face however that was where the similarities ended. “Bron” as they called him had a thin body and weak arms but his strength lay in his mind. Bron mastered letters and games of tactics quickly. Upon recognizing his son’s intelligence, Stanislav sent him to a faraway university to study.
Finally there was Balian. Balian was not quite two winters old when his mother passed away from fever. When Stanislav looked on the boy he was only reminded of his passed wife and avoided Balian as much as he could. It did not help matters that, like Maksim, Balian was the very image of his mother. After a young childhood of being raised by his nursemaid and brothers, Balian was made squire to Maksim. Since Maksim was expected to be the champion of the family he drilled endlessly in the skills of war. Often Balian walked off the field bruised and bloodied from serving as a training dummy as much as a squire. Even off the practice field Maksim practiced his lordly voice by ordering Balian around to complete daily chores.
The chore Balian minded the least was tending the chargers. He was always in awe of the power of the large horses and how once given a chance to run they became unstoppable. Yet for all their strength, once they were in the stable they became gentle as lambs.
On the celebration of Maksim’s twelfth winter, Baron Stanislav gifted his heir a magnificent charger. It was colored as the grey skies above Brevoy and a mane bright like the Icerime Peaks. Most remarkable was the fury of the stallion. Maksim came to fight his horse more than Balian when the brothers crossed lances on the tourney field. The battle of will between Maksim and the young stallion culminated in the lordling being flung from the saddle and landing in a mess of armor, blood, and bruised ego. The incident embarrassed Maksim and his shame only grew when Balian seemed to handle the mount with ease. The charger became Balian’s. Balion realized that this horse could never be controlled but would always run true if its rider trusted in it and gave enough rein for it to guide itself. The stallion was the first instance of Balian besting Maksim and so began a smoldering rivalry between the two brothers. It would not be the last.
* * * * *
Years passed and the brothers of the Northstar Keep grew into men. Balian had seen sixteen winters and still squired for Maksim although these days his older brother spent more time in the keep at the council table than on the practice field. Balian was all but ignored by his father unless some unpleasant task needed tending. Balian began to despise the sound of his own name.
He spent every moment he could get away ranging the domain frontier upon the grey stallion. The road away from the Northstar Keep led through the fief’s only hamlet, a small settlement of less than 300 souls. Balian rode through the hamlet almost every day on his ride along the border. He would ride past the peasants and kept his head tilted high, his eyes on the horizon as he had seen his father and brothers do countless times.
One day on his trot through the hamlet he felt his cheeks flush as if strong eyes were upon him. He saw the peasants looking down and averting their gaze except one. A young woman stood on the muddy rode staring straight into his eyes. Her feet and clothes were dirty from the labors of the day, yet she held her head as high and proud as a queen. Balian admired the way her simple dress clung to her form. He suddenly remembered he should be watching the horizon and lifted his gaze. He waited until the stallion had carried him to the outskirts of the hamlet before he dared a glance back. She was still there. Balian’s ears burned. Was that resentment in those eyes? Disrespect to the lordling or perhaps something else?
Balian continued to see her on future rides. Furtive glances became long stares which turned into warm smiles. One day he found her washing linens in a stream a long walk into the countryside. Balian stopped his ride and the washing was never finished that day. This became the first of several intimate meetings with Anna, the innkeeper’s daughter. Balian knew that his father forbid this sort of fraternization with the commoners but Anna agreed to keep their meetings secret.
Meanwhile, Stanislav prepared to travel north accompanied by Akim. It had been fifteen long winters since his wife died. A new marriage would seal an alliance between the Northstar Keep and another Orlovsky vassal family. While Stanislav was away Maksim would enjoy of task of ruling the fief in his father’s stead.
Maksim wanted to know the lay of the lands and insisted on joining Balian on some of his daily rides. Few things escaped the notice of the sharp eyed young lord and what surprised him the most was the glances between his squire and the innkeeper’s daughter. With a cruel smile he reflected on how his rebellious younger brother would be brought back under his heel.
That night Maksim and Balian dined in the great hall. Maksim waited until Balian was far into his wine cup before he made his announcement. Maksim needed a bedwarmer for this winter and he had chosen Anna, the innkeeper’s daughter. First Balian’s face grew pale and then crimson with rage. Maksim feigned surprise at Balian’s reaction and remarked that years ago he had let his younger brother have the best charger in these lands. What was a mere common girl worth compared to that? Balian knew he had no choice. For now Maksim was lord and whatever words Maksim spoke when Stanislav returned in the spring would be taken as truth.
It was one of the longest winters Balian had known. He avoided Maksim whenever he could and reserved looks of the deepest hatred for him when he couldn’t. Balian’s shame also compelled him to avoid Anna who now spent her nights with Maksim. Her dark eyes became empty and soulless, a mere shell of the proud girl she once was.
With the spring rains came the thawing. The snow melted and Baron Stanislav Orlovsky Northstar returned home with his new bride. He was accompanied by Akim and Bronislav who was returning home from the university. The boys were surprised to see their new stepmother had only seen twenty winters, the same age as Bronislav and less than half the age of their father. Fortune had smiled on Baron Stanislav on his wedding night, as the young Lady was already with child.
That summer was one of the best Balian had ever known despite his feud with his oldest brother. He and Bronislav became fast friends. Even his father began talking to Balian more than just issuing orders. It seemed the Northstar Keep’s new Lady struck a spell of new life and happiness in the old man. As all summers must end this one did too. It began one cool autumn day when an innkeeper and his daughter sought an audience with the Baron.
The walls of the Northstar Keep shook from the fury of its master. Scurrying guards summoned Stanislav’s sons to the great hall. Anna, the innkeeper’s daughter was heavy with child. The unborn bastard was the apparent son of Maksim and technically the next heir of the Northstar Keep. Stanislav’s rage was unrelenting as he bloodied the lips and bruised the face of Maksim.
Whether because of some deep buried loyalty to his oldest brother or sympathy for Anna, Balian stepped forward. He felt the words, “It’s mine” issue from his lips not recognizing his own voice. His father’s beating of his bother ceased and both men stared at Balian in equal shock. Stanislav flew at Balian with an even greater fury. Akim and Maksim pulled their father off their youngest brother who lay crumpled on the floor. As Balian pulled himself from the stone, his father issued his last order to him, “Take what you can carry from the armory, mount that forsaken beast of yours and go find a manner in which to die that suits you!”
Balian washed his wounds and packed for his journey. He left early the next morning before there was any hint of light. He intended to slip away unseen but felt at least one set of eyes on him as he left the gates of the Northstar Keep. He traveled along the southern road in the direction of Rostav. No stars shone in the sky above him to light the way, only low clouds pregnant with snow. It was going to be a long ride and there was no need to hurry.
* * * * *
Balian Orlovsky Northstar or Balian Orlovsky, as he introduces himself, is a young man of nineteen winters. His eyes are intense and weary as if he is equally likely to assault an impossible foe or shed tears, although his courage has never been seen to falter. His voice carries the commanding authority and occasional arrogant pitch of a Lord. He insists that commoners know their place but seems sympathetic to them as well.
