Sunday, February 27, 2011

The Start to a Long Journey

When I awoke, my head throbbing, the room was empty of all but a wind carrying a few leaves to drift across the floor and rustle to a halt at me feet.  the door swung creakily, and the wind whistled noisily.  All was dark.  I stood, and tiptoed to the door.  Outside a crescent moon drifted blue-white tendrils of light between waving branches, and my eyes searched the surroundings for any sign of unnatural, human, movement.  nothing.

I grudgingly admit that at this point tears began to slide down my cold cheeks, and I, shivering, ran back into the cottage and sat in a corner, arms wrapped around me, and rocked, till nothing was left inside of me, all I could feel was the cold hard floor beneath me, the cold hard wind around me, and the cold hard feeling deep inside me, reflecting the cold hard moon outside.

I was suddenly struck by a strange sense of determination that I had never before felt, and I leapt up with a vigor.  I looked around, the cottage was a disaster, the table knocked over, the ashes of the fire scattered, bedclothes flung about.  I ran to the chest, resting at the end of one of our two beds, and opened it with a certain amount of difficulty.  Inside lay two fighting knifes, in sheaths, an ornate saddle blanket with gold stitching and a cloak with similar design.  I lifted the knifes, the cloak and the blanket, shoved the latter two into a pack, and wrapped the belt, with the knifes hanging from it, around my waist.  I took my mother's worn brown cloak about my shoulders, and, with no food to be found in the house, left without looking back.

Outside I checked the lean-to that served as shelter for our animals during storms.  Tibi and Plucker, the chicken and rooster, had escaped through a hole in the fence, that hole being made by Betsy, the cow, bolting.  Trance was standing docilely at the fence, his sad eyes trained on me.  I smiled at the speckled white pony and quickly saddled and bridled him.  After I had pulled myself onto his back, and tied my belongings to the saddle, I kicked him into as fast a gallop as he could manage, not being strong or fast in any way.  Even as the trees slipped by, I felt the strong determination failing, and my heart fell to my knees.  I headed for Duinn, the nearest civilization, and by sunrise, I was clopping along the grey streets, my eyelids drooping, and dismounting at the Dragon Scale Inn.