Ch. 1

 

1

Silent in the night a lone figure with long, blonde and curly hair stumbled through the forest. Despite the cool night air she wore only a thin nightgown as fear and confusion rushed through her veins pushing her further and further into a world where she didn’t belong. She continued onward under the trance of the High Mage as she forgot the goose bumps that rose on her flesh and the hair on the nap of her neck that stood on end.

The High Mage often took young women for reasons few understood and fewer more knew of the curse that bade him take these innocent youths. All that they knew is that if a woman was taken she was to never return.

As the girl stumbled and fell another figure, taller and more masculine, caught her before she could add another bruise to her battered body. Although she struggled greatly the man was able to bring her in the opposite direction, tearing her away from the call. Soon she stopped and hung over his shoulder until he tired. He placed her against an old tree then sat beneath another to regain his strength, tensed in case she attempted to follow the call he could hear steadily growing weaker. Having rested long enough he gathered her back into his arms and continued.

She woke with a start finding herself on a strange man’s shoulder and not being able to recall the events of the night, it being covered in a thick haze. Before she could lose all her wits to panic she tapped the man’s shoulder, “Where might you be taking me?”

He jerked, startled, nearly dropping her. Before his mind had fully returned he graced her question with one of his own, “Does the calling still beckon for you?” He felt his slight bundle go rigid.

When he had uttered his question she had taken in the ancient trees passing by as he strode on, the two combined brought the night’s goings on in like a tidal wave. She remembered waking, thinking that she had slept badly for she still felt very tired then noticing that night was still blanketing the country side. Then she noticed the calling, silent at first as if testing her ability to hear then it came like a roaring lion making her jump out of her bed and to slide through the halls of her home frightened of both the voice and of waking any one else. As she neared the edge of the woods her only thought was to find the person who called for her at any cost despite not knowing who it could be. They sounded trustworthy and that was what kept her going until her foot first touched the soil of the forest.

She stood still in a moment of fear having been told all her young life never to enter the woods where beasts, both man and animal, loved to prey on the small and weak but the pain that racked her body was excruciating, unlike anything she had felt before. It moved her forward and the terror of it kept her going.

Hours after she had started her perilous journey into the cold unknown, having tripped often and thought more often that what awaited her was only evil incarnate, her bones were weary, her muscles ached and she wished for nothing more than her own bed and a good nights sleep, she tripped once more but could not catch herself so she began to fall. Before she could meet the cold and unforgiving ground strong hands wrapped around her waist and swung her up and over a shoulder. For a minute she was able to struggle but soon the pain was too much and the gift of unconsciousness was granted.

Once she had passed out a second time the man was frightened that she might have died but the steady breathing on his back and the pressure of her chest against his shoulder when she breathed in eased his worries. He continued on, taking breathers when the need arose, until he arrived at a small clearing with a small home and two barn-like buildings, one for storage and the other for stock life no doubt. “Home, sweet home,” he mumbled to himself as he walked inside to lay her down. After he saw to her comfort he grabbed a spare blanket and moved his favorite and only chair to so he could sleep as well.

The young woman woke with a start again to find herself in a small room on a strange bed. Before long she sat up and saw a door at the foot of the bed and through the crack she could see a fire crackling erotically. She stood on hesitant feet, stopped in the doorway, her eyes meeting the man’s. Not wanting to seem weak minded she pronounced softly, “I’m Rosalyn.”

“Well then Lady Rosalyn, I suppose you’re hungry. Have some stew?” Without waiting for a reply he filled a bowl and dropped a hunk of bread in it.

“If I may ask, what is your name?” He studied her in such a way that if she moved even slightly the moment would come to an end then he looked away looking shaken and unsure of himself.

“Forgive me Lady Rosalyn, you asked me a simple question and I lose myself. I have been called many things, but you can call me Neil.” He stood with the grace of a cat and the majestic power of a well loved king to offer her his chair.

“Thank you Lord Neil.”

“Please, I am no Lord. I am just a knight living on his own.”

 “Then thank you, Sir Neil.”