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.