Harrow - Young Adult Fantasy

[Chris C]

Back of Chapter One - Establishes Primary and secondary protagonists, their relationship, and the personal conflict that arises from it. Touches on setting and tone. Introduces secondary antagonist and foreshadows primary conflict. 
 

Anders threw a cheerful refrain into the growing raucousness as a bard fell from the bar top before he could finish his deaf tune.

"Good show!" he laughed, seeming to believe that there was such a thing in this shanty town and the performance they had just endured met that most basic standard of good. "Come on Viv, crack a smile!"

Vivica did no such thing, not least in part because Anders had made his demand of her with a mouth full of food. He devoured his tavern dinner like an animal despite earlier claims that he’d fed himself, and Vivica watched with mild amazement, and ample disgust, as the tiny teenager put away enough food for someone twice his size; then proceeded to finish her own plate, left untouched after the flavours of salt and vinegar quickly became too much for Vivica's tongue to bear. He tried to order himself a glass of spirits for his dessert, but Vivica had no interest in carrying the kid home, nor in seeing his dinner regurgitated on her carpet the next morning. She cut him off after two mugs of ale, and insisted they walked home immediately after he’d finished. Anders agreed with minimal bargaining.

The streets of Newton were void of vibrancy and life in the deepening night, save for the occasional stray cat or dog, each of which Anders stopped to try and pet. Yet, Vivica felt unease as she walked, unable to enjoy the companionship of Anders and his pets, unwilling to appreciate the starry sky or gentle songs carried on sea winds from drunken dockmen given courage enough to express themselves. The further from the tavern they wandered, the less light was available to guide their steps. The moon was empty tonight, every other street lamp had fallen into disuse, and few houses had yet lit their lanterns, but in the corner of Vivica’s eye, she caught darkness moving towards them that light would not dispel. She said nothing to her brother but hurried him along from the next stray and changed her route, ducking into a side street before heading up the hill towards home. The shadows kept close. She upped her pace slightly, dragging Anders along whenever he was tempted to stop.

“What’s the problem?”

She silenced her brother's moaning with a stare. She moved them along quicker now, all but jogging up the hill - much to Anders’ discomfort.

“Viv, stop. I’m going to be-”

His three-meal-dinner emptied out into the streets, but Vivica didn’t stop to scold him. Her hand went to the sword on her hip and gripped the hilt tightly, waiting, daring the shadows to come closer.

“Lady Harrow.” The stalker made himself known, stepping into the flickering streetlight like a predator making ready for slaughter. Fortunately, the man had little more menace to him than a mouse. His pointed nose, and uneven whiskers gave him more in common with a rat than anyone should wish for. He dressed in the crimson and bronze armour of the city guard, finishing his outfit with a wicked smile, yet the man's eyes were uncomfortably cold and small, undoing all other notions of weakness and non-threat. Vivica’s hand squeezed around her blade even tighter as the man stepped further into the streetlight.

“You planning to use that blade on me?”

She considered it. “Captain Bove, you should know better than to sneak up on a woman.”

The guard chuckled, yet his eyes remained as lifeless as a shark’s. “I wouldn’t dare to sneak up on one of our own Vorhelt. I noticed this lad was feeling a mite under the weather and thought I might offer my assistance.”

He held out a kerchief and Anders went to take it, thanking the captain, but Vivica stopped his hand.

“We’re fine,” she said through grated teeth.

“Are you now?” Bove grinned. “Are you fine there, lad? This scary witch isn’t taking advantage of you, is she?”

Confusion crossed Anders' face. “No?”

“Bad clams at the inn back there then?” Bove chuckled amiably, warmly even. But his lips could not form a proper smile, only a poor imitation.

“She’s my sister-”

Vivica stepped between them, scowling. “You have streets to patrol, and a dock filled with Westerlings, Captain. I suggest you attend to your duties.”   

Bove tucked away his kerchief and raised his hands in false surrender. “If you’re sure, lad. There’s not much of a family resemblance.”

There wasn’t. Vivica was, in her eyes, exceptionally plain. She had straight dark hair, brown eyes and tiny features set to colourless skin. Anders, however, had beautiful blonde curls, piercing blue eyes and a face full of character. If he shaved his wispy moustache, he might even be handsome; until he spoke at least.

“Different fathers. Same mother.” Vivica emphasised the last word, turning it into a threat. Captain Bove understood her perfectly, dropping his plaster smile as he stepped away.

“Get home safe then, boy. You're always welcome to come find me, anytime, if your sister's seriousness gets too much for you. I know all the best spots in town.” The captain tipped his helmet at Vivica. “Lady Harrow.”

Vivica felt air inflate her lungs again when he was gone, unaware that she’d been holding her breath. She pulled her fingers off her blade and willed them to stop trembling before turning to her brother.

“Don’t accept things from strangers, Anders!” she seethed.

“Who was that?”

Vivica caught her breath again and let go of the boy's shoulders. “A weasel and a piece of shit rolled into one.”

Anders nodded, but confusion remained on his face. “If he’s the local captain, then won’t he be the one in charge of my training?”

“What?” it was Vivica’s turn to wear a confused expression.

“Well, you’ll be busy with your duties. I figured the local garrison would train me.”

“Anders,” she squeezed his face between her palms. “Don’t go anywhere near that man.”

“Fine,” he said, wriggling free from her grip. “But then who’s going to train me? You?”

“What are you talking about? Train you for what? You want to join the army?”

“What are you talking about?” he countered. “The whole reason I’m here is to shadow you, learn what you do, train with the sword so I can join the Vorhelt in a few years.”

Vivica took a step back and considered her brother closely. There was no shred of disbelief or lack of conviction to his words, yet he delivered them with all the menace of a mouse. She didn't want to see his wide-eyed naivete.

“We're nearly home," she said.

"You're hiding something," he countered.

"I'm allowed to hide whatever I like from you."

"Not when it affects me directly." Anders planted his feet in a woozy act of defiance. "I'll stand here all night if you don't tell me who's going to train me."

Vivica rolled her eyes and continued walking, waiting for him to catch up before she continued. "No one's going to train you, Anders. You’re not going to shadow me, or even touch a sword while you’re here.”

“What? Then what am I going supposed to do?”

Vivica gave an exaggerated shrug. “Live a life of relative comfort, read books and find an apprenticeship you’ll like.”

“But I don’t want to do that,” he groaned, tugging at her sleeves in an attempt to make her stop. “I want to do you what you do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I want to be a hero.”

Vivica scoffed, “What’s so glamorous about it? Being treated like a common handyman for people too scared, or too lazy to fix their own problems?”

“It’s better than the alternatives! I don’t want to sit behind a desk counting coins.”

“Why not?” she countered, “you’d probably be very good at it.”

Anders kicked a stone down the street in frustration, “Why won’t you let me do this?”

“Me?” Vivica stopped her march, turning to see a face she’d worn many times in her youth now owned and improved by her brother. She sighed, exhausted by the day, and further drained by the prospect of continuing this conversation. She’d hoped that the kid would have more self-awareness, but a youth of plentiful coin, ample servants, and reinforced legacy had robbed Anders of something precious.

“Mother didn’t tell you, did she?”

“Tell me what?”

“Think about it, Anders! Look at yourself properly for a minute and consider why, of all our siblings, Mother would you send you here, of all places, to live with me.”

He was starting to get it. His lip trembled as he fought against insecurities so poorly buried beneath the surface of his bravado.  “What do you mean? Just tell me plainly, why am I here then?”

Vivica stopped for a second and finally met with her brother’s tear-ready eyes. “Mother doesn’t think you’re good enough to join the Vorhelt. She’s sent you here to stay with the least favourite daughter, because you too, are a disappointment to her.”

She felt as if she’d smacked her brother across the face. It certainly looked as though someone had. She considered laying a hand on his shoulder to comfort him but thought perhaps comfort was not what Anders needed. Instead, she kept walking.

“Come along, brother. Tomorrow, you start the life of a disappointment. I'll show you the ropes.”

[rachelmsterling]

Ha, I love the last line in the scene! I'm certainly curious about what's going to come along and shake up this "life of disappointment" Vivica is expecting for them both.

[DomGerard]

It's an interesting world you're creating with intrigue and history... I want to know more. And "Harrow" is a great title.