Excerpt: Orphan's Keep

The moon shone brightly upon the still waters of the lake below, illuminating the stone walls of the keep that sat serenely its banks. Frogs and crickets sang in chorus to the moon as a slight breeze began to create ripples across the glassy surface. For one shining moment the whole of the world seemed to be in balance, as though every living being was suddenly at peace.
After an achingly long moment staring at the lake and at the door of the keep, the couple nodded to each other and the man used the rusted iron ring to knock on the wooden door. After a few moments, the sound of someone scurrying towards the door could be heard, and then slowly the door creaked open, and torchlight spilled out on the couple on the doorstep.
They wore dark cloaks of the finest fabric, the hoods pulled up over their heads. Yet the hood could not hide the golden-red tresses that refused to stay tucked within it. In the torch-light it was easy to see that the pair were indeed a couple, the larger one obviously male while the smaller one seemed to almost huddle behind her mate. She clutched something tightly to her.
As the door opened, a smiling woman in filthy coveralls clearly meant for those that work the land stepped out towards them. Her violet eyes fell upon the bundle the woman was trying to hide, and the smile drifted away. Sighing, she nodded and then ushered the pair into the keep.
“It is time then?” The worker woman asked, and the man nodded as he pulled the hood from his head. His face was etched with lines, detailing his many fights throughout his life, physical and emotional. The woman chocked back a sob, and she too pulled down her hood, letting her red hair spill out and down her back. Her green eyes full of sorrow; and her fine features showing that she was of noble of birth and had a gentle upbringing.
“I see.” She says, as she smiles warmly. “You know this is for the best.” The woman nodded, but clutched the small bundle closer and squeezed her eyes shut; almost as if closing her eyes would shut out the world and what was happening. The man turned to her, his face soft but his eyes stern.
“Ar—“
“No, sir, speak no names here, not all of the children and tucked properly in their beds” and a chorus of giggles chimed from the hallway behind them, quickly followed by some shrieks as other women wearing coveralls much like the ones the woman at the door was wearing quickly ushered the children away from the foyer and down to their sleeping chambers. He nodded without removing his eyes from the bundle in his partner’s arms.
“My dear, we must do this. You know it.” When she didn’t budge, he reached forward and grasped the bundle. She didn’t fight him as he removed it from her arms, but she seemed to sink within herself as soon as its warmth left her. The man turned to the worker woman and handed the bundle to her. She unwrapped the bundle and smiled.
The baby within the blankets was fast asleep; he didn’t even seem to notice what was happening. He was no more then 6 months old, but the hair on his head was the same as his mothers, a soft golden-red that almost seemed to create a halo at the length it was currently. The woman nodded, and re-wrapped the bundle. Suddenly at her elbow another woman in similar coveralls appeared, holding a book, a pen, and an ink well. Quickly, she placed the items in the other’s hands, and took the infant from her. Curtseying quickly, she then disappeared down the hallway.
“Now then, what is his natal day?” The woman asked the pair. A sob from the fire-haired woman as she told the other woman his natal day was the fourth of the seventh month. She wrote that down, and scribbled a few extra notes. She then handed the pen to the man.
“Write your names here, that when the time comes it may be known.” He took the pen and quickly wrote his and his wife’s names. The woman glanced briefly at them and nodded.
“You must not speak of him. None must know which child is yours. Now, it is time to go. Fear not, and as you well know, he will be well cared for and taught everything he needs.” She opened the door once more for them, and ushered them out into the calm night.
“Please, he is my son… He is meant…” The man began, hesitantly. But the woman’s kindly face turned stern at once.
“I well know what he is meant for, my lord. Fear not, he will be ready when the time is right. But until that time, he is not your son – they all are.” Just as she was about the close the door, and noblewoman tuned back to her.
“You did not ask his name.” She said to the worker woman.
“My dear, we already know it.”