III.1Whom History Won't Remember.docx

History will never mention him, his name will never be regaled in song, but he is one who can say what few will ever be able to. That he served a certain king, was friend to a certain sorcerer. That he stood beside history's two greatest legends. Stood beside Arthur and Merlin.

~ (–) ~

Chapter 1
A Humble Beginning

This is the story of a young boy, a boy who would grow into a man. A man who will come to stand in the fabled kingdom of Camelot, as a trusted friend to the greatest sorcerer of all time. History will never speak of him, his name never remembered. He will be like so many others forgotten in the mists of the past, like the many others who played their small parts within the greater whole. Each with a destiny, no matter how small, a purpose along the road walked by those of greater fates. And while his purpose may have only been to be there as a friend, an ear who would listen, it did not matter. For even if he is never remembered, he was still in his small way a part of a great legend...

And so begins the story of Liam Morranson, the son of a carpenter father, a weaver mother. Cherished brother to his siblings and the youngest in the household, here in his home on the outskirts of the town of Ulwin in the lands belonging to the nobleman, Lord Hargren...

"Dad... Dad... Da-ad!"

A small hand tugged at the carpenter's sleeve, the man turning his head to look into the earnest green eyes of his youngest son. He smiled, setting down his wood plane and turning to face the seven-year-old boy.

"What is it, Liam?"

Tousled blond hair let stray strands hang over the child's face, Liam frowning a little as his expression became pleading.

"I want to help you make the cabinet for Lady Jancine."

Liam's father chuckled, ruffling his son's hair.

"You're too young, my son. Give it another couple of years and then I'll let you risk you fingers. Go and help your sister spin thread for your mother. Your brother's did that with no complaints, so you can too. Just be patient, your turn will come."

Liam let out a long sigh, his eyes still pleading.

"But Daaaad..."

His father gave him a nudge in his sister's direction.

"No buts, Liam. Go help your sister."

The man returned to smoothing a length of wood destined to become one of the final parts of the cabinet the boy had mentioned, the carpenter being one of Ulwin's finest. Meanwhile his son slumped across the fairly large living area within the larger-than-average house. He didn't know how lucky he was, to be the son of two such well respected crafters, when so many others scrabbled to get by on their own much more meagre earnings.

Liam sighed, sitting himself on the stool beside his sister's, both of them placed with their backs to the impressive loom that dominated one end of the room. Their mother would weave finer fabrics on commission, but otherwise produced the quality of cloth which most of the commoners in town bought for their clothing. The family made more profit on the cloth if she purchased some of her wool raw rather than buy it all as ready-spun yarn, and thus her children had been taught from an early age to spin. It also kept the youths busy and out of trouble...

That was what Liam was now doing, trying not to pout in disappointment as he sat there turning a combed coil of wool into thread. His efforts were far from perfect, but it didn't matter. Commoners didn't care if the cloth they bought was made from uneven yarn. So long as it kept them warm. He yawned, then noticing his sister shaking her head and sticking his tongue out at her in retaliation. She gave her spindle a twist before using the same hand to absently clip him on the ear, the young boy hunching his shoulders before giving his own spindle a turn.

"This isn't fair."

She shook her head again.

"It's not about being fair, Liam. Mom needs thread to weave, and you don't see me complaining about doing this day in and day out. You'll learn carpentry from father eventually, but I won't because I'm going to be a weaver like mom. So stop whining."

She ignored him as he pouted, the young boy on the verge of sulking as he sat there spinning thread. Why was he always stuck with the boring chores? He never got to do any of the interesting things his brothers got to. Sighing, he sat there and kept spinning until his coil of wool ran out, adding a new coil to the end of the old without really thinking about it.

He was on his fourth coil and his sister on her sixth when their mother came in, smiling warmly as she went over to her husband and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"How's the morning been, Samer?"

He smiled back at her, setting aside the chisel he'd been using on his piece of wood.

"Quiet, Alina, except that our youngest still seems to be determined to lose some of his fingers."

Alina chuckled, turning to face her daughter and youngest son.

"Helen, Liam, get your shoes on. We need to take the cloth I wove last week to the merchant."

The boy of the two siblings tied off the end of his spun thread in a flash, darting across the room to where his sandals sat beneath one of the tables. So eager was he to get going, that after putting on and tying the first he half hopped across the room while trying to do the other. Meanwhile Helen retrieved her own sandals at a much more sedate pace, rolling her eyes at his antics.

As for their parents, the couple simply looked at one another and chuckled, used to this scene as it happened so often.

The two siblings soon headed out of the house with their mother, each carrying a basket filled with un-dyed cloth. They walked down the short street upon which their home lay, and onto the main street beyond which cut through the town and led to the small, walled estate that held their lord's manor.

Ulwin was a large trading town, entrusted to the care of Lord Hargren by King Uther of Camelot. The town and its lands still belonged to the king, but he had given them into Hargren's care as reward for the lord's long and loyal service to his kingdom. As such Lord Hargren was a king in all but name, permitted to maintain a small armed force of his own wearing his colours. The only real difference is that he paid a percentage of the tithe he got from the lands to Camelot. The amount was small though, and more symbolic than actual payment. Hargren and Uther considered each other as trusted friends, and each would go to the aid of the other without hesitation if asked.

The result was that Ulwin was a peaceful place to live, cradled within the stability that blessed Camelot. But even so it was far from perfect, for even Ulwin had its darker side.

Alina kept her children close as they headed for the market, her eyes always watching for would-be pickpockets. A gang of thieves worked this area regularly, but for the most part left the locals alone. Those who lived in Ulwin were too wary to catch off guard often, thus it was the visiting merchants and travellers who were stolen from most often.

The gang were well known though, by reputation at least, their leader a man who had those who followed him steal only to survive. For that reason Lord Hargren only ever made a token effort to capture the wily man and his gang. He knew that many of them had not ended up in their way of life by choice. Instead those he did catch were branded and set to work on the farms around Ulwin, the less redeemable among them sent to the mines instead. He was fair in his dealings with them, and those who lived in Ulwin who had items stolen were oft reimbursed for a portion of their worth. Woe to any who would abuse his generosity though... The last individual to be found guilty of such had immediately been sent to work ten years in the mines.

Alina crossed the main street and turned into the market square, leading her son and daughter to the building behind the section dominated by stalls selling cloth and clothing. The merchant in charge of the building smiled when he saw her, indicating she enter with a wave of his hand.

"Alina, good to see you are well. How much have you brought me this week?"

She smiled back, using a hand to gently bring her children forward to add their laden baskets to the one that she also carried.

"The usual forty yards, Greg. Is the price the same it was last week?"

He nodded, waving one of his assistants over to take charge of the cloth from the baskets.

"It is." He chuckled. "In fact I already have your payment ready. You can count it if you wish."

She accepted the pouch of coins, shaking her head.

"I know you'd never cheat me, Greg, not when there isn't another weaver in town that can keep up with me."

He laughed.

"Aye, that be true. I hear Lady Jancine has commissioned you to make the fabric for her new gown."

"She has. I'll stop by in a few days to let you know what colour silks I'll need. She wants a pattern of satin panels and velvet accents. It's going to take me quite some time to weave it, and I still need to set my loom up ready for it... She would wait far less time if she ordered it from the cloth merchant in Camelot."

"But she respects you and Samer, why else commission him to make that cabinet and you to make the cloth for her gown? There are crafters out there that would give their eye-teeth for the kind of trade you two get."

Liam stood beside his mother, eyes moving from her to Greg and back again as he listened. When it came to discussions about the politics of being favoured by the nobility, he was totally lost. Helen was showing more interest, lapping up every word and storing it away for later. There was no doubt that her goal was to become as well regarded as their mother one day, and she was learning all she could about it while she had the chance.

Their mother bid her farewells to the merchant, leading her children with their now empty baskets back to the house. She still had a loom to start preparing, and they both had chores. As if remembering that that was what he always had to do after the trips to the market, Liam's cheer faded into a small frown... A frown that became a pout when they got back home and he was handed a broom to sweep the floor.

~ (–) ~

The twigs of the broom scraped over the floor, the young boy sighing as he did his chores. His father was still working on the almost finished cabinet, and his mother and sister were now scurrying around the big loom in the corner of the room.

Liam paused in his sweeping, watching them. The much smaller loom set near the big one would still be used to make cheap cloth when there was time, but the big loom with it's four harnesses would be needed for Lady Jancine's commission. The pattern she requested was simple enough for plain cloth, but for a mixture of satin weave and velvet it was ambitious. Alina would require Helen's help to make it, the girl to be positioned on a platform above the loom to hand-draw the warp threads to create the velvet accents.

Alina was just sorting out the wires she'd need to create the pile of the velvet when Liam's two brothers entered the house cheerfully, the eldest of them ruffling Liam's hair as he headed for the heart.

"You been keeping out of trouble, little brother?"

The other brother glanced at him, remarking cheekily.

"But I've been working with you all morning, so you know I've not been causing trouble."

"Shut up, Elias."

"Likewise, Alan."

Alina shook her head, addressing her fourteen and fifteen-year-old sons respectively.

"Elias, you know full well he was talking to Liam. Alan, that is no way to speak to your brother."

Alan put on a wounded expression, even as he set the pot of soup from the table over the fire in the hearth.

"Mom, I was only playing around."

"If you must, then do so at the workshop and not inside the house. I don't want Liam picking up on your lack of manners."

She had smiled as she reprimanded him, telling him she didn't completely mean it. Banter such as this was an everyday part of their lives, and not surprising with six of them in the house. As large as this cottage was, once the space taken up by the looms and Samer's special commission were accounted for, there wasn't a great deal of space left for the rest of them. The area curtained off at the back was barely big enough for all of them to sleep in, but they managed.

Shaking her head she returned to the loom, while meanwhile her youngest began pestering his brothers.

His green eyes enquiring, Liam tugged on Elias' sleeve to get his attention.

"What you been making this morning?"

The fourteen-year-old looked down at him.

"Just the usual stuff. Nothing interesting."

"Tell me, please."

Elias glanced at his brother, both of them sighing before he settled down to answer the boy's questions. Liam was still chattering away when the soup was ready, only staying quiet long enough to eat his share before he started right back up again.

It was clear that today his enthusiasm just wasn't going to calm down, and realising that Alan turned to his father once the bowls had been washed.

"Liam can come with Elias and I to the workshop. We'll keep him occupied." He glanced at his mother and sister; now once again back at the loom. "He's going to drive mom to distraction otherwise."

Samer frowned.

"But you know he'd too young, Alan. There are too many things he could hurt himself with in there."

Elias came over to join them, adding his point to this brother's argument.

"We're only putting together those chairs to replace the broken ones in the servants quarters at the manor. I think he can be trusted with a wooden mallet. We'll make sure he doesn't get his hands on any of the saws or carving knives."

The carpenter sighed, finally nodding in acceptance.

"Fine, but he's to be back in time for supper... That means neither of you are allowed to go on your usual tavern visit tonight."

Elias gaped.

"But daaad!"

Samer raised a finger.

"But I will let you go tomorrow instead, providing your brother comes home in once piece."

Both elder brothers grinned, grabbing a laughing Liam by an arm each and half carrying and swinging him to the door.

"You heard dad, Liam. You can come help us today."

When they set him down at the doorway, he darted straight out cheering at the top of his voice. Adam and Elias gave each other and their father one last look before hurrying after him. The last thing they needed was for him to get lost due to his excitement.

They caught up to him before he got to the end of the street, Elias placing a hand on his little brother's shoulder to prevent him from running ahead again. It was quite a walk to the workshop, involving crossing from the middle-class area their house was located in and entering the much more prosperous district right outside the walls of Lord Hargren's estate.

You could see those walls towering over the houses, a small number of guards patrolling the battlements atop them. Ulwin had not seen an attack or siege since the one that had happen four centuries past, but the lord was no fool and kept the defences maintained. Continuing down the main road that led to the portcullis gate though that wall, the brothers turned off into a side street dominated by workshops.

This area was exclusive to Ulwin's best, the crafters whose wares were bought by the residents of the manor. Lord Hargren owned every building in this street, and usage of them was granted on special lease by his approval only. If a new crafter came to the town, who proved themselves to be better skilled than a similar individual here, the lease would be given to the newcomer when the new year came around. Sure it created intense competition, but it also guaranteed that Ulwin would continue to attract the best tradesmen the region had to offer. After all, who wouldn't be attracted by the chance of being appointed as the crafter of choice for nobility... and paying half the normal rent as well?

The three brothers reached their father's workshop, unlatching the door and heading inside. The spacious area within was redolent with the smells of wood shavings and glue, and had belonged to their father for almost ten years now. He'd shared it with a friend for a while, but once his two eldest sons were proficient enough in the trade to work with him, that friend had left for Camelot to start a business of his own in there.

It was now very much a family business for them, and at the rate Alan and Elias were catching up to their father's skill, there was little doubt this workshop would stay in the family for many years to come.

The two brothers guided Liam to where stacks of prepared chair pieces had been left out ready to resume work on after their midday meal. Lord Hargren had ordered thirty chairs for the servants' wing, after several of his staff had been injured by a selection of rather ancient examples recently proving they had passed the point of no repair. When repair was no longer an option, replacement was the answer, and the brothers had spent the past week making all the pieces. Twenty of those ch...

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III.1Whom History Won't Remember.docx

Chapter 1A Humble Beginning

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Chapter 1
A Humble Beginning