Howling Heights

West of Blackhaven.

Lay the lands of House Selmy of Harvest Hall and House Caron of Nightsong.

The duty shouldered by these two houses was to defend the entire Prince's Pass.

This enormous pass, which "punched" a great hole through the Red Mountains, was the nearest and most convenient open route between Dorne and the stormlands and the Reach.

It ran north to south and was guarded by House Fowler, once the "Lords of the Wide Way" and "Kings of Stone and Sky."

On a rocky slope at the southern end of the pass, House Fowler had carved out and built Skyreach, commanding the heights.

Only after House Fowler submitted to House Martell of Sunspear was this broad passage renamed the Prince's Pass, because House Martell followed Rhoynar custom and still used the title "Prince of Dorne."

The old adversaries of the Selmys and Carons were naturally House Fowler, along with House Manwoody of Kingsgrave, which lay within the pass.

Next door to Nightsong was Titus's Starpike.

Farther west.

Was another lord of the Reach's marches, House Tarly of Horn Hill.

The Peakes and Tarlys had always watched out for and supported one another. The Dornish houses that stood against them were those of Blackmont, at the confluence of the Torrentine, and Starfall farther south.

The two main sources of the Torrentine, which flowed through western Dorne, lay not far from Starpike and Horn Hill respectively.

From east to west, these six great houses-four in the stormlands and two in the Reach, their castles plugging the crucial gaps in the Red Mountains-made up all the lordly houses of the Dornish Marches.

Beyond them, many lesser houses and landed knights, either vassals to the earls or independent, were scattered throughout this borderland.

The military aristocrats on either side of the Red Mountains had fought for generations, sometimes as individual rivals, sometimes in combined forces, and had long since forged deep and bitter feuds.

This was also the practical reason why the love between Titus and Lora was unlikely to end well.

Roughly half a year earlier, the previous Earl of Starpike had died.

Titus Peake, accomplished in arms, had been personally knighted by Earl Byron Caron, whom he served, and returned to take over his castle and family estate.

Even now, Titus could recall Earl Baylan's voice and smiling face.

He remembered that, besides teaching him the military skills and social etiquette a knight ought to possess, Earl Baylan had often taken him out by moonlight on nights of the full moon, passing on his techniques for scouting mountain cliffs at night and his tracking experience.

Titus had been younger then, crouching on damp moss as he watched the powerful earl deftly draw the course of an animal trail with a dry branch, and learning from him how to identify the footprints of wild beasts and the droppings of birds in woods scented with pine resin and earth...

The man had placed great value on his status as heir to Starpike, and had also admired his talent with a sword. There had, in truth, been some self-interest behind his closeness.

But judging deeds rather than intentions, Titus was still quite grateful to him.

Had Earl Baylan not knighted him at the right moment, he might still have been a squire. Even if he had returned to Starpike, he might not have taken charge of the household so quickly.

Besides, did this journey of his not contain a measure of self-interest too...

After Titus and the others ate their marching lunch, the party set off again, pressing east.

Starpike and Nightsong were, after all, "neighbors." The distance between the two castles was not excessive: thirty leagues in all.

Ordinarily, one would leave in the morning and only arrive at night.

Their party either rode extraordinary steeds or had two horses apiece to alternate between, so naturally they traveled extremely quickly across the plains.

When the setting sun dyed the wilderness gold and red, the riders finally caught sight of their destination's outline.

An ancient castle towered upon a cliff on one side of the enormous pass.

Beneath the darkening sky, heavy clouds churned violently. A piercing mountain wind howled past, sweeping dead leaves through the mountains in all directions with a low, mournful moan, as though recounting the castle's long and weathered history.

In particular, with the surroundings and the wind setting off the castle's soaring tower, Titus could hear from far away that familiar, distinctive rhythm of the gale passing through its gaps.

As though, accompanied by the wind, it were leisurely "singing" its own music...

They had reached Nightsong.

It was an intimidating military fortress, smaller in area than Starpike but decidedly more precipitous.

Written evidence showed that this castle had been besieged at least thirty-seven times in the past thousand years.

As they gradually approached the foot of the cliff on which the castle stood, they could make out the shape of this dangerous fortress.

The "singing" grew louder too.

The bitter wind curled against the cliff face, even producing sharp "cracking" sounds.

Noticing guards coming down ahead, Titus reined in his black horse, slowing it as he raised his head to look up.

The entire fortress seemed to have been hewn straight out of the rock. Its brown stone walls blended seamlessly into the cliff beneath, and all access depended on a stone path too narrow for two horses abreast, connecting it to the ground below.

Beyond the outer edge of the stone path lay a bottomless precipice, where the wind wailed without end, making the place seem like a solitary prison cut off from heaven and earth.

This was Nightsong, which he had left half a year ago. Here he had shed two and a half years of sweat and devoted two and a half years of his youth.

"My lord, Nightsong certainly lives up to its name. Is it like this every evening?"

Listening to the rushing noise around his ears, Captain Parker reined in beside him and rode slowly with his lord, his voice somewhat distorted by the wind.

Before Titus could reply, his gaze had already settled directly ahead of the stone path beneath the cliff.

A squad of guards emerged there. Their leader wore a vivid scarlet cloak, with a nightingale brooch of House Caron pinned to his left breast.

"Titus, is that you?" The guard leader approached and recognized the newcomer, surprise in his voice.

"Standing before you is the Earl of Star-" Parker frowned and urged his horse forward, about to announce his lord's title in a deep voice, only for Titus to raise a hand and stop him.

He was neither "Stormborn" nor "the Unburnt." There was no need to announce a long string of titles wherever he went.

The man knew him, and he knew the man.

"Alston, you look to be doing quite well."

Titus was observant and noticed that the man's brooch had grown larger and was now made of gold.

Alston, the guard leader, immediately came to his senses. This was no longer the earl's young squire, but the Earl of Starpike, a marcher lord of the Reach to the west.

Alston stopped, an expression of astonishment and wariness appearing on his face. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

His manner finally grew respectful, and he distinctly addressed him, "Titus... my lord, I've been well enough."

Titus knew then that a sadly thick barrier had already come between them.

Tsk.

This did have a touch of "a great wind rises, the clouds fly," of Emperor Gaozu of Han returning home in glory.

To gain wealth and rank without returning home was like wearing embroidered robes in the dark...

Alston called off the alert and motioned for his guards to clear the way, then walked ahead of the party to lead them.

Titus's party made their difficult way along the stone path and arrived before the castle on the cliff.

Several dozen guards had already gathered at the main gate.

This reception really did not bode well.

With the arrival of visitors from the west, the howling on the mountain seemed to grow louder.

Much like certain people's emotions.

Titus looked back at the stone path they had just traveled, now looking pitch-black as the sky darkened.

For no apparent reason, a certain schoolboy of death came to mind.

This scene was a classic "snowbound lodge scenario."

Howling Heights: