The Flight

Elizabeth was born with a sense of intuition that leads her to safety as a new danger threatens to end her life.

The Flight

She laid on her bed concentrating with all her might. She knew a storm was coming she already warned the staff. But there was something else. The storm was bringing a dangerous threat. At first she thought it was just another spring storm that might fell a few trees or knock down parts of the High Wall, but she could not shake a sense of dread that was lingering after her sight. As she closed her eyes she heard the first lightning bolt strike just outside. Three, there will be three she took a deep breath trying to figure out what it all meant.  The thunder was a monstrous noise it must have been closer than she thought. Before she could clear her mind another strike and the rolling thunder was upon the house. Elizabeth was scared, more than that she was petrified. Something had been set in motion, and it was coming for her. “Boom.” She whispered quietly to herself as the third jolt of lightning hit the abandoned gardener’s house setting it on fire. Her eyes flew open and for first time in her life Elizabeth knew what must be done.  She had to run, go into hiding she was in incredible danger. The intuitive feeling washed her dread away as she quickly jumped up and turned to rush into the next room grabbing her carpet bag that she first used when moving into the cellar. She started packing everything she dared to carry. But she was missing something, Frustrated and running out of time she started searching frantically for something she saw in her vision. A bauble she had as a child. Not knowing how it could help her in her escape she just had a sense about these things and knew it would be her best protection.

  The small rooms were made out of large stones and mortar with ceiling length tapestries hanging on the walls.  There was no carpet on the hard dirt floor the only thing that covered it were the rushes that were replaced often and lightly mixed with heather from the last fall harvests. For the past 10 years she has been kept in what was once the cellar to the great manor her parents owned. They had left when she was three and her uncle was her guardian while she was gone. For reasons unknown he would never step foot into the house. Occasionally he would arrive and stay out in the courtyard while he check in with Allen, the caretaker of the manor. But mostly he wrote letters on how the land was to be farmed, leased or left unattended. He was the only living blood relative she had left since her parents left. The first thing he did when they entrusted him with her wellbeing was sending her to live in the cellar of the large unoccupied house. At first she was scared of the dark and cold rooms but as time went on she started to grow accustom to the dimly light rooms and cool air. As she grew up she started putting the pieces together. She was sure that her uncle expected her to lose her sense of self, to become a pawn in his hands forgetting who she really is. Who am I? Was always her questions. If living in the cellar was her Uncles idea of a fitting place for someone of her stature then she knew he did not like her. He wouldn’t even look at her to tell her that her parents had left, Allen was the one that brought the bad the news.

She was only three at the time and Allen had been there to take care of her and the house under her uncle’s authority. What was not known was that Emily was becoming stronger every day.  She could sense things that others could not. Sometimes she knew when visitors were coming, or when a storm was approaching with uncanny accuracy. Emily made a game of these senses. Sometimes she would lay in bed and stretch her mind out beyond the walls of her room. She could picture the gardens and the vast field’s surrounding the house. When she concentrates she can sense the weather and predict when a storm was coming or if it would be sunny for days. Just last night she told Allen to close all the shutters and lock up the animals. There was a strong storm coming and it will be bringing a lot of damage with it. Not even Emily could know the truth in those words. Her sense of foreboding was growing stronger than ever, yet she knew not why or what would cause her to be so scared.

Emily was still frantically packing when she sensed Allan walking around the house and she knew he was coming down to put the lights out for the evening. Since she told him about the storm she was getting more and more uneasy and tonight she was fraught with anxiety. Emily quickly bent down on the rushes and started pulling items out of the closet throwing them behind her as she continued her search, now desperate to find the last item she needed before she fled.

     “What do you think you are doing?” Allen said with a surprising glare.

 Allen had been her father figure since her parents left. He was a lean short man that was getting on in his years. His back started to curve making Emily almost eye level to him. His hair was patchy but what little was left was fluffy and white. It reminded her of a little halo made of clouds.  His eyes which once might have been a brilliant green were now a dull and dusty grey. Or at least looked that way in the dim light of the cellar. Turning around to face him she only had seconds to think.

                 “You don’t understand, I have to get out of here now!” Emily surprised herself by the urgency in her own voice, as she turned back around ignoring him for just a moment until she found what she was looking for. 

                  “Got it!” She threw a small golden globe into her carpet bag and sat it on her bed so she could do a quick search to be sure everything was in its place. She looked at the tray of cheese and bread Allen brought with him and smiled.

“This will do perfectly” she wrapped the bread and cheese in a napkin and put it in the bag.

“You are leaving Miss Emily.” Allen said with what sounded like a bit of nervous apprehension.

It wasn’t really a question though, more of an acceptance of reality.  She forced herself to turn around. She thought she would dread this confrontation and wanted to leave without him knowing. He had been the only person in her life for the past 10 years and she thought if he asked her to stay her will might break and she would stay to face her doom. But as she meet his glare she knew that he could understand. Something has changed tonight and the storm was just the harbinger. There was an urgency in her that could not be stopped she knew the time had come.   

“I have to go. I don’t have any time to spare, when Uncle comes tell him I am grieving and in a foul mood, and I have requested not to be disturbed. He will believe anything you tell him dear Allen.  That should buy me enough time to….”

                 She didn’t get a chance to finish. There was banging on the door to the house and a service bell was being wrung. Allen stood there shocked for a moment wondering what to do first, as he turned back around to say something all he saw was the fluttering of the tapestry behind the wall and his precious Emily was gone.

 

                  Allen was in disbelief, how could that girl know so much? Her Uncle never sent word that he was coming and surely wasn’t out in this storm so late at night. She has been right before but this would just be too much.  It must be a tramp wanting to come in from the storm.  Allen slowly turned around mulling the event that just happened before his eyes. He was telling himself that he should have stopped her but as he slowly walked back up the steps and to the front of the house he could tell there was urgency in the knocking, Was Miss Emily right? Was she truly in danger?  Allen walked slowly everywhere so he started ringing the service bells to the attendance that helped keep the house together, whoever this is must need help that would require assistance other than just him.

                  He was an old man and should have retired instead of taking on the responsibilities of the house until Emily was of age. She was so precious to him and yet he could not tell her everything she ought to know.  Being employed by her uncle the self-proclaimed Lord of the Northern Marshes Allen did just as he was asked. Keeping Emily out of sight and unaware of her birthright. The cellar was not a place to live for any one, especially a sweet child like her. He nicknamed her Angel because he could see no wrong in her.  She was unusually clever in reading between the lines. So she would only ask a question one time and whatever answer he gave her she seemed to know what he meant more by the things he did not say.  She would never complain about being in the cellar and he did his best to make it a lovely place for her.  She had toys when she was younger but quickly board of them and would insist on hearing Allen’s stories. She loved his stories more than anything. It was in those stories that she seemed to understand who she was. For Allen’s stories where all true. He told her of her parents and her grandparents and where her family came from, how her ancestors settled in this land hundreds of years ago and created the village, and of her distant relatives that still lived in these parts. When she tired of listening about her own family she would beg to be told about the surrounding villages and town folk and what they were up to. She would listen so heartily that by the time she was ten she deeply believed that she could go into the village and recognize the town folk and be able to call to them by name. She would long for the day when she would be allowed outside her family’s home and go into the village.

  There were other villages and towns that lied south of the manor and she would often lay on the rug in the middle of her room and dream about a summer day of bright sunshine and warm weather. But what she liked to hear about most were the lonely marshes north of the manor. She wouldn’t request those sorts of stories as it seemed to take a toll on Allen to tell of the suffering that they brought and all the lives they took. But she was intrigued and paid special attention to those stories.  If Allen sensed her getting to excited he would end his story abruptly and give her a kiss on her forehead, “That is enough little one, a ladies mind shouldn’t be so interested in bad thoughts.” She knew he thought it would bring her bad dreams and would be content that she was able to hear a little bit more.

 Allen sighed as he stopped in front of the doors and waved to the servants to pull open the heavy bar that locked the oversized wooden doors leading into the front hall.  The storm was menacing and lighting was striking all around. As it flashed so close and so bright lit up the sky he saw the tall cloaked figure standing in the door way. Soaked to the bone he was hardly recognizable. His boots were caked with mud and the black trench he wore was pulled up to his neck and slick with rain.  He was a daunting figure as his bowler hat was pouring down with water he could not be mistaken for anyone else in the Northern Marshes. Emily was right. Her uncle had arrived.

Author's Note

First chapter of first book. Is it worth continuing? How is the fluency and cohesiveness of the story?

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[JanaGayle]

I changed the name and never went through the whole story to adjust. Please disregard that as I am fixing it now.