A Few Valient Women- Prequel

Prequel  

I dug my bare toes deeper into the dirt, hating my family more with each toe I managed to submerge. I hated how they screamed at each other; I hated the emaciated girl with the dirty tear streaked face who clung onto my mother’s leg. Happy to escape the contention of my Uncle’s mansion, I plunked myself down onto the ground, and lay back to bask in the moon’s clean light. I found a subtle joy in knowing my mother would have been angry when the maid told her how I had ruined another one of my white petticoats. I would probably be beat for my carelessness but, at least for tonight, I did not care; I had run away. I could barely tolerate the mundane days in that house, nonetheless tonight’s events. It was not every night a policeman showed up with a girl and a sad expression. Yet, even more remarkable was seeing my Uncle bent over in sobs as he clutched a small golden box, while my mother remained detached, knuckles white, gripping onto the frightened girl’s arm.

Still confused at the events which had only recently unfolded I gazed up at the moon through the tree’s branches and felt a warming sensation start at the tips of my toes and move towards my chest. Even though I could feel late autumn’s chill upon my skin I felt strangely safe. But even the warming feeling of safety could not make me forget the girl’s haunting expression. Her large brown eyes had seemed void of any emotion and if it wasn’t for the tear streaks I would have thought her incapable of crying. I yawned, exhausted and decided instead to focus my thoughts on my eventful day with my Uncle. I imagined his face when I displayed my abilities to shoot his favorite pistol, killing a rabbit. I recollected the enthusiasm in his voice as he said, “I will make a huntress out of you yet Felicity Gardner.”

I awoke some time later shivering from the cold. I sat up quickly and wrapped my arms around me. My teeth chattered. The moon looked down at me from the center of the sky.  I had been here for awhile, but my need for warmth took precedence over the need to return home. Dazed, still craving sleep, I rubbed my eyes and began to look around for a warmer location. Then, as in those frivolous stories the maids read, I saw in the distance a light coming from a fire. Surely, I thought, a traveler would not mind sharing the warmth with a child.

As I approached the fire I noticed that the traveler was nowhere in sight. For a moment I considered turning back and attempting to find my way back, but I heard a voice whisper from the trees.

“What brings you here child,” the raspy voice asked.

Startled I turned, examining the trees ahead of me until I found a dark hooded figure leaning on one tree. My knees started to tremble, but I would not be deterred, I was a huntress after all.

“I am lost and cold,” I replied as bravely as I could muster.

                The cloaked figure nodded and pointed to the fire.

“Sit,” the voice said pointing to the fire.

I obeyed. But as I watched the shadow move within the darkness I began to dread him less. I wanted to know who he was and why he stood so far away from the warmth of the fire.

At last he spoke again, “Do you fear me child?”

“No,” I replied.

“Brave thing,” the shadow said as he fiddled with an object he had placed at the bottom of a tree.

“You are not lost, are you.”

The statement was more a comment than a question.

     “No,” I said boldly, “I am not, I’ve run away.”

     “Me too,” the voice said, “would you like to run away with me?”

     “Maybe,” I said decisively, “I want to see your face first before I decide, you could be a criminal.”

The thing in the darkness laughed for a moment, “you can tell by looking at me?” I nodded.

“Then come see it.”   

Enchanted I drew closer to him, as I did so the alluring blackness of the night encompassed me.  For a moment I glanced behind me, looking for a light, only to be met with the moon’s pure gleam and the fire’s.  It reflected off me forming a shadow upon the hollowed ground, lighting my way toward the voice. When I was almost close enough to see his face the cloaked figure began to speak.   

                “And lo,” said the voice, “I will make you a fisher of men, whereupon a precedent shall be built for future generations.  And it is upon such a precedent a vast empire will be built to change the fate of kings, establishing a new reign of authority.   Come to me now my daughter; allow me to bestow my blessing of knighthood unto thee.  Come hither child to gain a divine father’s blessing.  I bestow the power freely- fortify and conquer come- Come! sweet Caesar of virile desires, partake of the fruit.”  

      At last I realized my grave mistake; this man was undeniably mad. Any foolish bravery in my being left and I turned to run.  But the realization came too late, the figure snatched up the object he had placed at the base of the tree and lunged at me. He pushed me toward the fire and I tripped backwards. With one hand still grasping the object, he pinned me to the ground. His face still concealed by his cloak, his skeleton fingers held my arms back as he keeled over my small figure. From behind his back the shadow pulled his other arm out, revealing the object in his hand to be a branding iron. I started to scream and writhe harder. The shadow remained unalarmed and switched positions, using his knees to hold my arms down while he began to heat the iron in the fire.

     “I am Felicity Gardner, daughter of one of the richest families in England and I demand you release me,” I screamed.  The shadow-figure did not respond. As I watched the branding head turn from cool metallic steel to an orange-red my cries became more and more desperate.

     “Please,” I sobbed as I stared into the cloaked figure, “I beg of you, don’t do this.”

     But instead of listening to the pleas of a desperate child the shadow tore at my clothes, pulling the left sleeve off my petticoat. I screamed and the shadow sunk the hot branding iron into my shoulder.

     The smell of my burning flesh was nauseating. The pain almost made me faint. Never before in my young aristocratic life had I ever felt true pain, searing pain which enveloped my whole frame. Desperate, I thrashed about more, kicking my legs into the ground. The cloaked man leaned back a little to place the branding iron back into the flames. I could not endure more pain like this. Somehow, the change of his weight distribution allowed me to wriggle free. I ran into the forest as fast as I could toward my Uncle’s home. The shadow cursed and ran after me. His feet crushed the fallen leaves as he closed the gap between us. I leaped over fallen logs and branches as I tried to avoid capture. But still he came closer. The sun was rising and the light seemed to follow our path. I could feel his cloaked hand reach out, his bony fingers coiled as he tried to grab at me. The fact that the man was still completely cloaked only added to my terror. I ran faster, using the sunlight to guide my path. We had reached the “tree line”, the line of trees dividing the forest from my Uncle’s property. The shadow screamed out as my legs crossed the boundary. Still running, I turned to see my attacker angrily clutching to one of the trees on the borderline, his pale hand outstretched toward me as the sun came up.