Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Fly Away: A Short Story

         

Cold.

            The wind howled through the forest while icy sheets of rain pounded the earth and froze as diamond droplets on bare tree branches, becoming glistening spears of frozen liquid. The moon hovered as a single glowing orb crowned with the pin-pricks of star light in the frozen winter sky, leaving silver trails of light glinting off the snow that blanketed the ground.

            Hooves, pounding, churning hooves, beat on the slick, frosted earth; flaring nostrils, desperately drawing in each icy breath and heaving out clouds of hot air; muscle, bulging, releasing, lathered in crystallized drops of sweat; the horse surged forward through the darkening woods.

            Cloaked in gray, the rider leaned over the horse’s neck, urging his steed to move yet faster. He clutched a small child to his chest and kept glancing over his shoulder, hardly daring to breathe in hope that they were not pursued. His pulse raced. His eyes and his ears were acutely aware of any disturbance—each bush that rustled, each animal startled, every drop, shift, and sound. With a quick glance to his left he saw them; three riders, dressed in dark imperial garb and heavily armored, riding atop huge fanged beasts that snarled in eager anticipation of their catch.

            A whimper escaped the child’s lips as she watched with ever-widening eyes. Her tiny, frail form shivered despite the thick layers of clothing she was so lovingly wrapped in. Her thoughts, racing faster than the horse beneath her, struggled to fully grasp the intensity of the situation.

            She could feel the fear; it permeated the air and tried to strangle her. How could one not feel it? She could smell the smoke; it too filled the air, no longer a faint scent from the distance. Its source, though, was lost to her.

Understanding, it seemed, was not to play in her favor. Being a child, she hadn't yet come to realize the huge complexity of her world, nor did she understand the wickedness mankind was capable of committing. Her knowledge was only of what she had seen. Her comprehension, a montage of fleeting moments.

~~~

            Warning was in the air; tension enveloped the castle. The king had not dined. The soldiers patrolled the walls with apprehensive vigor, watchful and ready.

            Snuggled deep under silken layers of blankets, the little child sighed in simple delight as any would after a long day of lessons and play. Contented to lie in her bed and let her thoughts wander over her childlike imaginations, the princess pulled the blankets to her chin and stared into the dancing flames in the fireplace.

            Nurse sat near the hearth sewing, as she hummed a tune that beckoned sleep and new tomorrow. With a worry-lined expression, the nurse glanced toward the child and smiled wearily at the huge, curious eyes that glittered back toward her with delight. One could not expect the child to understand.

            The princess, though, understood more than one would assume. In an innocent childlike way, she had understood. And when the nurse suddenly hurried to the doorway to answer rapid knocking, the child’s worries were renewed.

            She sat up in her bed, observing the frantic conversation at the doorway. Her auburn hair hung limply, framing an innocent face and big, green eyes. The nurse hurried back toward her and gently dressed her in her warmest clothing, wrapping her in a fur-lined cloak.

            “You’re going on a little adventure tonight,” the woman’s voice faltered as she struggled to hide undertones of fear from her words.

            The princess watched her nurse and clung to her favorite doll. She now was sure something was wrong; something was very wrong.

            She related it to the time her mother wasn’t feeling well. The queen had been ill for as long as the child could remember, but that night was different.  Her daddy had been anxious and worried, pacing back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. Then, his face stricken with sorrow, he came to her and knelt before her, pulling her into his arms.  Mother never got up. That was the only time she ever saw daddy cry.

            In her childish way, the princess had been aware that something was not right for several days now.  Her daddy, the king, had been gone often and her nurse was always looking out the windows as if she expected to see something coming over the hills to the east.  Tonight, something was coming.

            A huge army approached on giant, snarling dogs. Not like her daddy’s dogs. She shivered with growing awareness that the bad feeling inside her must be something close to horror. She returned her troubled attention to her nurse. The woman was frantic now. She lifted the child in her arms and hurried out of the room and down a long, twisting flight of stairs.

            The king waited at the foot of the steps, fully clad in armor save the helmet he held in his left hand. His lean face was lined with worry much beyond his years. He took the princess from the nurse’s arms and desperately, but oh, so gently, cradled her against his chest.

            He brushed his nose against hers and smiled, trying to hide his agony for the child’s sake, “Be brave, little bird.” He pulled her against him to shield her from the tears that rose in his eyes and cradled her there for several moments.

            The princess, silent with the knowledge that something wasn’t at all right, leaned against him. Her elfin thoughts focused on why her nurse was getting her up in the middle of night and why her daddy was so sad.

             Regaining control, the king released the child and, kneeling, he kissed her forehead, “I love you, little bird. Always know that I loved you.”

            The child placed her mitten-clothed hand on his clean-shaven cheek, “I love you too, daddy.” She tilted her petite face to the side and frowned, suddenly feeling desperately insecure. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you, daddy.”

            He took her tiny hand in his and nodded, looking down, “I know, I know.” He motioned to the nurse and stood as she lifted the child.

            The child reached for her father as the nurse took her, “Daddy!”

            Tears escaped the king’s eyes as he watched his child being carried away. He lifted a hand, “Fly away little bird.  Fly away.”

            The princess knew better then to scream out for him, but she almost did anyway. She sniffed back tiny teardrops and shivered as the nurse hurried out into the frozen courtyard of the castle. She headed to the farthest corner, where a cavalry officer stood waiting beside a tall brown stallion.  The horse stomped and tossed its head, snorting small gray clouds. The soldier helped place the child on the tall horse’s back, and then turned to the nurse.

            She gripped his arms. “Ride will all speed. Don’t slow.  Go to the west, through the forest and over the mountains. Whatever you do, don’t stop. She must survive.”

~~~

            Cold.

            Everything was ice cold.

            The freezing torrents of rain had ceased and in their wake came a stunningly cold wind that stole all warmth from everything in its path. Crisp and biting, it stung against the princess’s cheeks as frightened tears escaped her eyes.

            Every muscle straining, lungs gasping in the sharp air, hooves flinging up clods of snow, the horse galloped onward; but escape became a fading hope as the snarling beasts drew closer. With a sudden jolt, the horse fell as a huge snarling beast sprang against it. The soldier was knocked away; the horse collapsed from beneath her. She was thrown from the saddle into the icy snow. After a single, deathly silent moment, the child stirred.

            Tears swelled in her eyes. She sat up, blinking against the howling wind and shuddering more from fear than cold. Everything had fallen quiet. The horse and lay several feet away, beside the carcass of the huge wolf-like animal. Its rider lost amongst the drifts of snow.

            With painful effort, her soldier crawled through the snow, clutching a bloodied arm to his chest. As he neared the child's side, he straightened and took her in his good arm.

            “Shhh, now little princess,” he murmured, stumbling to his feet. “I’ll see you safely through this if it’s the last thing I do. Don’t you worry.” Paying his wound no heed, the man courageously pressed onward.

~~~

            Cold.

            The cold crown settled onto the princess’s head. She shivered. The weight, and its reality, drew her thoughts back to the present moment. Escape was no longer an option; the fleeing years were behind her, as was her childhood. Now, a kingdom needed rebuilding. The trust of loyal citizens, who had sheltered and nurtured her for this day of liberation, would not be misplaced. This time, she faced not a cold death, but duty, not a blade, but a crown.

            Look at your little bird now, daddy. With a cold smile, she rose to face the cheering crowd.



THE END

© Copyright Charity K, 2012


1 comment:

  1. Beautiful and gripping every time I read it!
    I like the changes you made. Need to correct some typos. ;)

    ReplyDelete