Part 2: The North, 2.2 Escape

“Dee!” her mother called. “To me!”

Diana stumbled out of bed, groggy after her birthday party that had stretched into the evening.

With one hand on a rapier, her mother reached out with the other and took Diana’s hand. “Hurry, child! To the tower.”

Diana looked back to see dark men with heavy swords break down their front door and put their home to the torch. She tore loose from her mother's hand and ran back to her bed to retrieve her new bow and quiver.

A dark man raised his sword and Diana cowered, but a rapier parried the sword, and her mother thrust the point into his chest. Diana watched the man stagger back, his eyes fixed on hers and his hands on the bleeding wound in his chest. He groaned and sat hard on her bed and fell back. Kathryn pulled Diana behind her as another attacker swung his blade and Kathryn ducked.

“Run!” her mother ordered and Diana ran outside and hid behind the open door, her hands over her ears so she could not hear the sounds of clanging blades and death.

Kathryn ran outside the door and looked for Diana. She closed and latched the door and found Diana behind it and reached out her hand again and they ran to the tower.

A thin fog hid their escape. But when they reached the moat, the tower was in flames, still bravely defended by her father’s archers.

A neighbor in mail approached with blankets. “Milady, the archers are a diversion,” he said. “It cannot hold. We must ride to Richard and the militia.” They stole through the forest to waiting horses upon which the small band fled, running for her father’s camp fifteen leagues to the east.

Richard's camp was too far for the horses at gallop without resting, so nine leagues from the camp they stopped at the estate of an ally for fresh mounts as a thick fog began to rise. Diana’s mother dismounted, ran to the house, and banged on the door while the guards formed a cordon around the front. Lights flashed from inside and her mother’s brother William came to the door.

1.1.1.Diana Flees to Uncle’s Home

“Katie,” her brother said, “what in heaven brings...”

“No time, Will,” Kathryn interrupted. “Our home is in flames. I fear they are close behind.”

“Eddie!” William yelled to a ranch hand. “Fresh horses!” He turned to Kathryn and stepped aside. 

“Come, inside with you.” He turned his head and called the housemaid, “Julia! Bring blankets for our guests.”

Kathryn and Diana entered the great room and warmed themselves by the fire.

“Where are Elsa and the kids?” Kathryn said.

“Staying in Wikkert with Uncle Ed. It will only be us and the ranch-hands to defend.”

Before fresh horses could be saddled, the dark men caught up to them. Kathryn stuffed Diana under a heavy desk and then helped defend the house. It was all a jumble of “There!” and “Duck” and the ‘thunk’ of arrowheads in wood. Diana knew she was of no help with her bow and arrow and so helped by bringing arrows to the defenders and staying out of the way.

When fire reached the rafters, they knew the house was lost.

“The roof will only last a few minutes, Katie,” her uncle said to her mother. “They only need to keep us pinned down inside while the house collapses around us. There’s a hatch under the kitchen pantry. When you close the hatch, it will hide itself. That will give you about ten minutes.”

“You can’t stay here, Will,” her mother asked.

“We’ll make for the horses and take those nearest to glory.”

“It’s suicide. Come with us.”

Will shook his head. “Not enough time,” he said. “Your escape needs to be defended or there will be none at all.” Will grabbed Kathryn and hugged her. “This is not your place to die, sis,” he said, then looking at Diana, “or hers.”

Without another word, Kathryn kissed her brother, grabbed a firebrand, and led Diana to the escape tunnel. She opened the hatch in the pantry floor and they climbed down a ladder to a dirt tunnel. When she closed the hatch, debris fell on top to hide it.

“Diana, when we surface we’ll not be able to talk. Keep your eyes on me. Do you remember the signs?” This was a child's game to communicate during hide-and-seek using the same hand signals as the militia in battle. Diana nodded. And Kathryn signed, Never surrender. Promise me. Diana nodded again and crossed her heart.

1.1.2.Diana and Mother Hide in the Woods (POV:D)

The tunnel led them through a quarter of a mile of tangled roots and warrens. When they rose through the exit hatch, Diana looked back through the fog to see the house and barn engulfed in flames. Kathryn grabbed her hand and they raced for the safety of the forest. Just after reaching the edge of the trees, Diana heard a ‘whoosh’ and her mother fell hard. Kathryn rose to one knee but needed Diana's help to get on her feet.

“What is it?” Diana asked using the hand signs.

“OK,” Kathryn replied in sign. “Hurry! Hurry!” But Diana knew something was wrong.

Without horses, they could not outrun the attackers. Exhausted and stumbling through the darkness, Diana’s mother found the hollow trunk of a burned out tree in a thicket at the bottom of a dry stream bed far off the trail. At Kathryn’s instruction, Diana gathered brush to sweep their tracks and used it to hide the entrance to the hollow trunk. And there they hid. Kathryn pulled her cape around them both to keep the chill of the cold rain and fog away.

“Did your father tell you of the dragon riders?”  Kathryn asked.

“Yes, mother,” Diana said.

“Did he tell you of a dragon rider named Astrid?”

“No, mother.”

“Well, there was a beautiful young girl who rode a dragon named Little Wing…”

Diana listened to another of her mother’s fairy tales and shivered in her mother’s lap until Kathryn’s voice softened and they drifted off to sleep.

***

Diana awoke in silence in the dark, still in her mother's arms. She felt the wetness on her left shoulder and reached behind her to feel the sticky fluid. It was blood. Her mother did not respond when Diana prodded her and she was ready to cry out, but then saw torches approaching through the brush outside their hiding place. She raised her bow and stuck the arrows in the dirt next to her, point down.

At the sound of footsteps in the nearby brush, she quietly nocked an arrow. She was no good at ten yards, no good at two, but she might have one shot, one chance at a target a few feet away. When the boots of an attacker stopped in front of their hiding place—boots of soft leather tooled at the heel—she struggled to pull the arrow back, aiming at the entrance to the hollow trunk. Her fingers hurt and shoulders trembled, but she held her position until she heard the sound of boots no more.

When the attacker had passed, Diana relaxed the bow and felt the pain in her fingers and shoulder. Her mother remained quiet and needed help quickly, but Diana was bound to their hiding place, knowing the trackers would capture them if she tried to escape. There was nothing she could do but wait helplessly in the cold mist and cry quietly.

...to be continued ...

(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.

Part 2, The North: 2.1 The Troubles/Pastoral

2.1.   Troubles

2.1.1.Diana and the Sheep

“Mother, when!” Diana asked. It was her eleventh birthday and she'd not had a proper party in at least, well, at least a year.

“Soon dear, patience,” her mother said.

Patience was not one of Diana strengths and she meandered through their farm house in her party dress. Dawdling about her mother's bedroom, she inspected the dressing table and the jewelry box with ivory inlay that always fascinated her. Mother told her the inlay was carved from dragon tooth, and father wove fantastic stories of dragons and the brave heroes who rode them and their palaces of carved stone and wood in the high mountains to the southeast. They were only stories of virtue and adventure for little girls, but she still wished they were true. She held the box in the sun to see the opalescent sparkle and smiled, then put it gently back in its place.

Wandering outside, Diana walked the small trail to the coral and pasture in the Amboise hills, still green from the late spring rains. She snuck into a tent erected for visiting stockmen, found the farm manager, Ted, and sat next to him. He faced six men: three appeared to be farmers from Limint to the north with rough hands and open-faces, three others were perhaps from Cherryth in the east with dark skin and short stature who surveyed her with narrow eyes.

“For my son and his new wife,” said a ruddy faced man from Limint. “We need a flock to keep them away from the town.” The others smiled

“And the groom away from the tavern wenches, I’ll wager,” his companion added and they laughed.

Ted cleared his throat. “There’s a lady present, gentlemen,” he said. The men turned in surprise to see young Diana in her party dress while the dark men scanned her without turning their heads.

“Why, thank you, sir. No one has ever called me a gent before,” a man from Limint said with a big smile which raised more laughter. He dipped his head toward Diana. “Beggin’ your pardon mam, no offense intended,” he said. Diana nodded though she did not know what he apologized for. The men turned back to their conversation.

“Ah, then. How long will it take,” the first man asked. “How long before the heard will be self-sustaining?”

“Four years,” another said. “It will take four years for the herd to support your son and his new wife.”

“Two,” Diana said idly. The men ignored her with indulgent smiles and the dark men scanned her again.

“Four years,” the man repeated loudly to the group without looking at Diana. “Three litters in four years, two per litter.” The other men nodded their heads in agreement.

“Two years,” Diana said just as loudly. “You start with one male and two females. Two years and you will have four extra rams and one sheet of wool to trade. The rams are food except for the alpha. You'll start with one acre...” The men interrupted her and began to argue loudly, some seeming to agree, others to disagree.

The first man laughed at her, unable to ignore her . “Keep to your needle point, little girl. This is man's work.” he said.

Diana flushed with anger and stomped her foot, but the men ignored her and returned to their discussion. Ted was quiet but smiled at Diana's pique. Infuriated, she walked to the side of the tent and opened the tent flap with a view of her large flock of healthy sheep. She whistled for her dogs which immediately came to sit at her side. The men turned at the whistle, rose, and went to admire the sheep.

Richard de Cherbourne, Diana's father, entered the tent and the visitors immediately complimented him for the flock, but he waved his hands to quiet them.

“Please sirs, if your interest is sheep, the owner stands there,” Richard said and pointed to Diana who still stood at the open tent flap. “But I must steal her away for a while first.” He walked over to Diana. “Hon, it's time for your party,” he said and leaned over to pick her up to carry her to the house.

Before they left the tent, Diana looked over Richard's shoulder to the astonished stockmen and, avoiding the temptation to stick out her tongue at them, said, “Ted can negotiate the terms of sale...”

But the dark men did not reply.

1.1.1.Richard Gives Diana a Birthday Gift

Outside the tent, Richard spoke to Diana. “I need to ride east, hon, and will miss your party,” he said and handed her a long package wrapped with colorful parchment and ribbon. “Happy Birthday.”

Before the wrapping paper hit the ground her gift was exposed, a small version of the bow and arrows her father’s archers bore, though without fancy decoration or colorful string or fletching.

“It's not a toy, girl,” he said, “just a start. We can practice when I return.”

It was perfect. “Oh, thank you, papa!” She hugged him hard and kissed him on the cheek and forehead.

“Lass, I must go now,” he said. “Let's hurry, or you'll miss your party.” Richard walked her to their house, kissed her and rode away.

Diana could hear the children gathered for her party and took a step to join them, but the bow fascinated her and she went back outside to the coral to test it. Standing three yards from a post, which she thought to be a suitably large target, she nocked an arrow and raised the bow. The bowstring was stiff and thin and hurt her fingers. Her shoulders were not strong enough to pull it to her chin, so that when she released the arrow it fell to the ground only a few feet in front of her. Papa was right, this is no toy, she thought. After failing a second attempt as well, she stared at the bow with a frown.

With pursed lips she glared at the bow. “We are not done, you and I,” she said, looked at the bow, and walked to her bedroom. She put the bow and quiver in the middle of her bed where her guests would not find them and left for her party.

...to be continued ...

(c) 2015 B. R. Strong, Jr.