The Founders Four

Lord Salazar

Godric's eyes flickered open to a half-risen sun the next morning. He squinted against the light that crept through the wooden door of the servants' quarters. He blessed the warm blanket he was sleeping under because it was the thing that had probably prevented him from getting pneumonia during the night. He could tell it had been snowing, a sign that Christmas was fast approaching. He could tell from the biting chill that hung in the air. He could hear someone bustling around in the next room and suspected that they had been the reason he'd woken up so early.

"Are you awake?" They barked. It was unmistakably Mr. Walker. "Get up!" He snapped, as he marched into the room.

"What's going on?" Godric grunted, rubbing his eyes against the new rays of light that bled into the room.

"You're leaving, that's what! I heard all about it. Listen, Schreiver's booked you a place on a ship that leaves from the coast of Scotland in just a few hours so you'd better get ready, boy!"

"Ship? He's sending me to sea?" Godric demanded, looking horrified. "I don't like water. Just thinking about a boat rocking around...swaying about..." he murmured, his stomach starting to churn. "Bobbing..." The colour suddenly drained from his face.

"No, you silly lad!" Mr. Walker grunted. "You're going to Ireland!"

"Ireland?"

"Yes!" He said exasperatedly, as though Godric was being stupid on purpose.

"But I hate ships!" He cried quickly, following Mr. Walker as he marched into the other room. "I'll be sick!"

"Too bad then, isn't it?" He chuckled, as he stuffed a few small food parcels into a large sack.

"What's that for?"

"You," he replied simply. "Food for your journey."

Godric scowled at Mr. Walker behind his back.

"Get your things, go on!" He barked, chivvying Godric back into the sleeping quarters.

Godric reluctantly went back into the other room and picked up the few garments he owned that still fitted him. Once he'd picked up his only pair of boots he joined Mr. Walker again.

"Right," he said in a very business-like way. "C'mon, to the kitchens."

"The kitchens? Why?"

"A few people want to see you before you leave."

Godric followed Mr. Walker round to the back of the castle and they entered the cavernous kitchen to find Mavis bustling about as she made a start on breakfast.

"Oh, there you are!" She trilled as Godric wandered in. "I was afraid you'd already gone!" She pulled him into a swift hug that rather took him by surprise. "Oh, I'll miss you, dear!"

"I wish I wasn't going!" Godric muttered sadly.

"Oh look, here...here," she pulled something out of one of the cupboards beneath the sink. "I was going to give it to you at Christmas but I won't see you." She handed him a large knitted quilt. "It'll keep you warm. It does get a little nippy in the region you'll be working in."


"Thank you, Mavis," Godric smiled, greatly appreciating this gift.

"Oh, it was nothing, my dear!" She said airily. She paused for a moment and looked at him, placing a warm hand on his bitter cheek, which was red with cold. "You look like your mother." Godric had never really heard much about his mother but smiled nonetheless. "Take care, my darling!"

"I will," he smiled.

"Godric!"

He spun around as a small figure came pelting into the room. It was Polly, who was beaming from ear to ear. She ran right up to him and hugged him round the middle.

"What did I tell you?" Mavis snapped. "I told you to stay upstairs!"

"I wanted to say goodbye!" She said, her eyes shining with tears. "I'll miss you!"

"I'll miss you too!" Godric said. He'd always liked Polly. She'd been the closest thing to a friend he'd had whilst he'd stayed here. He even considered her something of a sister.

"I found this for you," she beamed.

Godric looked down. She was holding up a peculiar flower. It was scarlet in colour and had orange petals budding from the centre.

"It's wild like you, you see," she explained. "It looks like a lion. You remind me of a lion!" She laughed. "You roar when you fight with Robert!"

Godric just smiled. He looked down into her smiling face and felt a great pang of sadness in his gut, like he'd been kicked. He wished Polly hadn't come to say goodbye. He hadn't thought leaving would be this hard but it certainly would be now. He'd miss Polly the most. Especially her little laugh.

"That's enough!" Mavis said abruptly, sounding suddenly stern. She sniffed loudly. "Godric must be off now." She started to chivvy Polly back towards the door she'd rushed through.

"You'll keep it, won't you Godric?" Polly called.

"Always!" He called back, smiling as she waved.

"Come on, lad!" Mr. Walker said loudly, shunting him towards the door.

As they stepped back out into the sparkling snow everything seemed so much more gloomy. Godric trundled miserably through the snow after Mr. Walker, his feet soon becoming wet and numb. As he waited whilst he fetched a horse, Godric pulled the flower out of his pocket, where he'd kept it safe from the bitterness of the air. He smelt it, taking in a large breath. Burnt wood met his nostrils. His brow furrowed at this and as he looked down at it he realised it actually did look like a lion. He smiled.

"Come on, boy, hop on!" Mr, Walker called. "We'd better get going or else the ship will leave without you!"

*

"Nervous, boy?"

"A little," Salazar replied uncertainly.

He stood in Benedick Greyson's grand home. It was a big day for him. He'd finally be recognised as the lord of southern England. He wasn't quite sure if he even wanted to be recognised as this but felt he owed it to his mother and father.

"You'll be fine," Benedick growled. "Here," he said quickly. "Pin this onto your robes." He held out a crest of England stamped into metal. Salazar complied and stared at his reflection in the mirror opposite. "You look like a lord!" He muttered, beaming so that his yellowing teeth were bared.

The way Benedick was helping him on such a big day reminded Salazar of a father. He looked very grown up in the robes Benedick had had made for him. As he looked into his own face he seemed unrecognisable. Just by changing into this unfamiliar made him feel more powerful. The night before he'd just felt like a silly child that wouldn't last five minutes in such a position.

"You'll do me proud!" Benedick grinned, patting him on the shoulder.

There was a knock at the door and Benedick hastened to answer it. Arthur Slytherin, Salazar's uncle, entered the room, along with Belle.

"Ah, Arthur! Such a pleasure to meet you at last!" Benedick greeted, wringing his hand.

"Likewise," Arthur muttered, nodding his head. "My brother never mentioned you," he added.

"Oh, we were good friends towards the end. I'm not surprised if he never mentioned me. We were close but only just before he died."

Arthur suddenly turned towards Salazar, looking full of pride. He clapped him heavily on the shoulder and beamed down at him.

"That's a sight!" He exclaimed. "You look so smart!"

"Thank you," Salazar replied, trying to hide the nerves he felt.

"Well, good luck. Not that you need it. The king will love you!"

"Even though I'm so young?" Salazar muttered worriedly.

"Even more so because you're so young! Means you'll last longer than the other lords!" He laughed.

Benedick smiled in reply to this laughter but his smile, as always, never reached his cold eyes.

"Aren't you going to wish him good luck, Belle?" Arthur said suddenly.

She stared into Salazar's eyes as he stared right back.

"Good luck."

She didn't smile or even sound friendly. She didn't seem to mean it at all and said it with a cold tone. Salazar tried to smile in reply as his uncle stared in puzzlement between the two of them.

"If you'll excuse us!" Benedick said. "We really must finish preparing."

Arthur and Belle left the room. Salazar wished they could have stayed , even if Belle was being rather icy towards him.

*

"Come along, Rowena!" The king snapped. "We can't be late. We'd be setting a bad example."

"I don't see why I have to go too!" She mumbled, as her maid straightened the cuffs of her dress for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"You are my daughter!" He roared warningly.

"Just let her be, my dear," the queen muttered, patting him on the arm as Rowena stormed down the corridor ahead of them.

Rowena was still angry with her father. After the incident with the Gryffindor boy she'd thought about things differently. She'd considered the fact that she didn't have to take so much from her father and that she'd be queen some day. Her father wasn't a very bad person but that had been the final straw for her.

"When is young slytherin arriving?" The king asked one of the escorts that marched down the corridor alongside him.

"At noon, milord," he answered promptly.

"Ah, very good. And I want you to be polite!" He snapped, fixing Rowena with a piercing stare. "Do you hear me?" Rowena didn't reply. "Rowena?"

"Yes, your majesty!" She smiled sarcastically, hiding it as much as she could.

She stormed off ahead, the doormen having to wrench the doors apart as she sped past.

"That girl will be the death of me!" The king snarled, spit flying from his mouth. "She's only been acting like this since we visited Lord Schreiver's castle!"

"She'll snap out of it, I'm sure," the queen assured him.

"Hmmm," he grunted, a frown creasing his forehead. "She'd better buck her ideas up otherwise we may have to resort to desperate measures marriage wise. Prince Edmund won't want a wife like that. She's become so immature and she actually wants to play with the common children we see roaming the streets! What kind of society are we living in? Our daughter's gone mad!"

*

"Here we are, boy!" Benedick cried happily.

Salazar got out of the coach they'd travelled in to the castle with shaking legs and stepped down onto the cobbled ground, which was sprinkled with a light dusting of snow. It was still falling silently from the heavens.

"How many will there by here?" Salazar asked, trying to sound conversational rather that scared witless.

"Oh, I believe his majesty has invited a few important members of society but, not to worry, they are not like you. They are as ordinary as the king himself. Not a spec of magic in him!" He laughed.

As they walked up to the gates that led into a small courtyard the guards bowed them mutely inside.

"Now, you have the speech, don't you?" Benedick asked quietly as they rushed along side by side.

"Yes," Salazar replied.

"Remember to act as though you mean it," he added.

"Right..."

A bell rang out within the castle as they reached the front doors. They waited as they heard cries to announce their arrival.

"And try to look confident in front of the king. He likes people with heads as big as himself!" He said mockingly. Salazar thought privately that he did seem to insult the king rather a lot. "Just be polite at the same time and he'll love you!"

They heard some locks grinding on the other side of the enormous wooden doors.

"And it might be a nice touch to compliment the queen too."

"Right," Salazar said again, trying to take this information in as his insides churned uncomfortably.

The doors were suddenly thrown open and the grand entrance hall came into view. The king could be seen trotting down the staircase opposite them, beaming happily.

"Ah, good!" He cried. "I do like punctuality. Please, come in!"

Salazar and Benedick stepped over the threshold as the second set of guards bowed. Salazar took a moment to survey the king. He certainly was magnificent close up. He was almost a head taller than Salazar and, though he probably looked his best in his earlier days, you could tell he was not a person to cross.

"Salazar Slytherin!" The king said, observing him with his glinting eyes. "Yes, you have the look of your father. What are you now, m'boy? Eighteen?"

"No, Milord," Salazar said, unsure of how to address him. "I'm sixteen in a few months."

"Oh...you are rather young for a lord then, aren't you?" He muttered, as though commenting on the weather.

"But he will be able to serve as lord?" Benedick put in, looking rather concerned.

"Of course!" The king chuckled. "Before we present you to your public you must first sign to say you will serve as long as you can as lord of southern England. This way, please."

He led them through to a room on the right. There stood a desk with a long roll of parchment on top. Salazar nervously approached it.

"No need to fiddle about with all the script. Just sign at the bottom," the king said happily.

As Salazar turned to Benedick he nodded. Salazar carefully picked up the quill that lay next to the parchment and dipped it into the ink pot. He paused but then scrawled his name at the bottom.

"Ah, very good!" The king boomed, looking pleased. "Now, there's quite a reception awaiting you. Let's meet them, shall we?"

Salazar followed the king, feeling the colour drain from his face as he led them towards the large entrance that opened out into the front of the castle, where there was a courtyard. As they approached Salazar could hear a low murmur of voices that steadily got louder.

As they stepped out into the winter light of the courtyard the crowd of people that had obviously come up from the town all cheered loudly. Salazar didn't know what to do. Should he smile? Wave, perhaps?

"My loyal subjects!" The king called, the cheering dying down as everyone's attention turned to him. "I give you your new lord of southern England!"

The cheering started up again. Salazar smiled weakly.

"Wave, boy!" Benedick hissed.

Salazar raised his hand and waved it uncertainly, feeling rather foolish.

"They're all yours," the king said happily.

"Sorry?" Salazar demanded, looking shocked.

"Your speech!" Benedick muttered.

He'd completely forgotten and as he was ushered forwards his stomach felt as though it was about to shoot from his mouth. He tried to calm himself before speaking but it wasn't easy with all those eager eyes upon him. He carefully took the notes that Benedick had given him on the way to the castle out of his pocket and cleared his throat.

"As your lord I promise to have a very active role in what goes on within southern England," Salazar said, his voice echoing around the square. "I will work with the king to make your lives better. You shall have my full support in everything and I hope I will serve as a good lord to you. I aim to help the king with whatever he so needs," he added, the king looking very pleased at this. "Anyone in lower England that needs help of any kind - I'm here for you!"

The crowd cheered loudly again and over in the corner of the snowy platform they stood upon above the square Rowena rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe those peasants were lapping up everything this boy was saying. She supposed he was another obnoxious child who'd been given a fortunate and powerful position in society he didn't deserve. He probably didn't even mean half of the things he'd said.

"Please, Salazar," the king said happily. "Come and meet some of my good friends!"

Salazar was then chivvied along a long of people, who he shook hands with. He didn't know who most of them were but smiled just as Benedick had instructed. Half of them didn't even speak. Most just forced an unconvincing smile. He then reached the king's wife and daughter, who the king announced proudly.

"Ah, lord Slytherin now, is it?" The queen smiled. "Congratulations. You parents would be most proud of you!"

"Thank you!" Salazar smiled, now finding it easy to fake a little small talk after watching the masters at work. "And may I say how radiant you look! You put the snow to shame with your beauty!"

She laughed dismissively, waving a hand.

"My daughter, Rowena!" The king said happily.

Rowena surveyed the boy close up. He had a very false smile. She could spot fakers a mile off and this boy was certainly no exception. He may have been of a good build and had a charming smile but she wasn't fooled. Beneath the fancy clothes he was just a boy. Just an ordinary boy with nothing special to offer.

"Ah, princess," Salazar smiled. He'd been told it was only polite to kiss a lady's hand and did so, as he'd done to the queen. He admired her pale royal skin as he did this.

Rowena scowled at him, but made sure her father couldn't see. Salazar could tell she didn't like him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd just like to say how beautiful you look."

"Thank you," she said, with an equally false smile. She hid the sarcasm in her voice as much as she could.

Salazar didn't have to fake this compliment. Though her mother was a good looking lady for her age, Rowena was very beautiful.

"Let's go inside. I believe the food should be ready for us important people!" The king laughed airily. Rowena stared daggers at him.

*

"Wake up, lad!"

Godric felt the wet sole of a heavy boot nudge him in his ribs. He jerked awake and squinted up at the low evening sun. He sat up and rubbed his eyes vigorously.

"What is it?" He mumbled, still feeling rather nauseas.

"We're here. We're in Ireland. Come on, get up!"

The journey on the ship had certainly been an unpleasant one. It didn't help with the fact that Mr. Walker had left him at the docks in Scotland, meaning he had to travel alone. He had no idea how he'd managed to get even a wink of sleep but still felt rather groggy. The man standing over him was indicating for him to get off the boat.

Godric got up, picking up his backpack as he did so and swinging it over his shoulder. He walked down the slippery plank that led onto the docks and looked around, feeling very disorientated. His stomach churned.

"Gryffindor, is it?" Someone called.

Godric turned to face a man with a curly grey moustache. He walked up to Godric without waiting for an answer, surveying him closely. His eyes narrowed and he grunted.

"A little smaller than I expected," he muttered in a low Irish accent. "I expected you to be a little stronger."

"I'm strong!" Godric said quickly.

"And a little taller too," he said, as though he hadn't heard Godric's response.

"I'm not that short!" Godric grunted, feeling rather offended.

"It just means you'll have to work in the kitchens until you've acquired a bigger build."

"The kitchens?" Godric demanded, looking horrified. "That's women's work! I'm a stable boy! I've always been a stable boy!"

"Well, that's about to change, isn't it?"

The man led Godric through the crowds of people around the docks towards a road just beyond a fish market.

"Are you Lord Hufflepuff?" Godric asked, after a few moments of silence.

"No," the man chuckled. "Lord Hufflepuff is far too busy and important to pick up little scallywags like you! My name is McCartney. Aiden McCartney. I'm one of his many advisers and I help with employment matters," he explained.

"So what's Hufflepuff like then?" Godric asked, feeling nervous.

"You'll find out soon enough, boy, you'll find out soon enough."

*

As a lavish party at the kings castle commenced Salazar started to feel more and more nervous. Now that he thought about it he had no idea how he was going to keep the promises he'd made to his people. He secluded himself to a quiet corner of the function hall whilst Benedick mingled with all the rich people in the room. Salazar wasn't that interested in money. He just wanted to do right by his parents.

"What are you skulking over here for?" Someone asked.

"I'm not skulk - oh..." He turned to see the Princess staring at him in a very moody fashion. "I was just...this isn't my sort of thing," he said truthfully.

She surveyed him for a moment, stroking a finger around the rim of the goblet she held in her hand.

"Same here," she replied, staring out at the people in the room. Her eyes fell upon a group of governors who were getting rather rowdy due to the consumption of alcohol.

"I would have thought you'd be used to it," Salazar said.

"I hate it. Everyone's so false at these affairs. It's rather silly really!"

Salazar nodded in agreement.

"You were being rather false," she said after a short pause. "All you lords are the same. You make promises you can't keep. In fact, it's not just you," she added. "Everyone does it!"

"I was told to be false!" Salazar said in his defence.

"Oh!" She laughed. "Don't tell me you've got someone behind you who tells you exactly what to say and do!"

"No!" Salazar said at once. "I decided to do this because I owe it to my parents!"

Rowena watched him intently for a moment.

"Not your choice then?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Then maybe we're not so different after all," she muttered, fixing him with her icy blue stare.

"I take it you hate being a princess then?" He asked sarcastically.

"You guessed?" She laughed.

Rowena had met other young rulers and lords and almost every one of them had turned out to be obnoxious and idiotic. Salazar seemed to be quite the exception, despite first impressions. Finally, maybe she had come across someone she may have something in common with.