Chapter 1A Chapter by Brooklyn“Vivienne! Get up. You must go!” my
mother cries. “I’m not leaving you and Father, not
now not ever.” I say grabbing my sword from it sheath. “No. You must go before it is too
late!” My mother says, begging me with her eyes. I will not abandon them. As I hear the cries of “there! They’re over
there!” I prepare to fight. “Please,” my mother tries one last time. I simply
shake my head. Then they are upon us. The clash of metal fills the air
and the smell of fresh blood overwhelms our noses. This will be a blood bath
for our people. There is no hope of victory with the ratio of at least two of
the soldiers to one of our untrained villagers. There are only about thirty of
us left, we are the only ones that survived the raids of our hometown. “Surrender!” the general screams.
“Surrender and you will be shown mercy!” But there is no chance of that. We
would rather die than become the subject of the lord who has done this to us.
Who has slaughtered our friends and family, for no known reason. “Surrender.
Give us the girl.” All at once the entire battle
stops. We all turn to face the general. “What girl?” My father asks, more
than a note of suspicion in his voice. “The one named Vivienne.” My father swings his sword in a
powerful circle and the head of the general rolls onto the ground. “We will
never surrender!” He yells to the surviving soldiers. Both sides attach with a new fury.
My mother and I fight side by side, I disarming the ne opponents and her
slitting their throats. My father fights with the strength of many men, but is
soon overwhelmed with the soldiers who want revenge for their captain’s death.
Out of the corner of my eye I see a sword plunged through his back, strait
through to the heart. Tears burn my eyes, making it hard
to see. “No!” My mother cries and she collapses onto her knees. A soldier takes
advantage of her grief and swing his sword. I run to her and kneel by her
bloody body. I apply pressure to the wound with both hands even though I know
it is useless. “Stay with me,” I whisper, “I need you to stay with me.” “Vivienne,” she whispers,
struggling to breathe. “My beautiful baby girl.” “I’m hear, Mother. Stay with me.
Hold on.” “Promise me…” She coughs and spits
out blood. “Promise me you will leave. Go across the border and find refuge
with a man named Caius. He will help you.” “Mother!” I weep. “He is the court physician to Uther
Pendragon. Find him.” She coughs again. “Take this.” She lifts a necklace from
her bodice with trembling hands. “You will need it… Use it…wisely… May the
gods…and spirits…protect you.” And then she is still. My cry isn’t a loud and wild scream
like my mother’s. It is soft, heard only by the few around me. “You will pay.”
In less than a half hour, I was made an orphan. “You will all pay.” It feels as though my heart is
splintering to a million bits. My head explodes with pain and my eyes close. A
word comes into my head, a word that I have never heard before. I whisper it,
as though it will ease the agony. “Fyrhend.” I open my eyes and look at the
battle raging on around me. My mother’s last wish was for me to leave here. So
I shall. I find a soldier’s horse who’s
without a rider. I do not know what happened to the rider, and I do not care. I
hope he is dead for what they did to my parents. I hope that every last soldier
is dead. I mount and kick at it’s flanks with my heels. The horse rears and then
runs at a full gallop away from the battle. My mother’s blood that covers my
hands leaves red stains on the reins. The trees stream by us as in a blur and
the wind blows my hair from out of its tight ponytail. It flies loose and whips
my face, stinging it. Branches scratch me as we run, making bright red marks
along my arms. I hear hoof beats behind me. They
know that I have left and are following me. “We get the girl at all cost!” A
voice that I swear I know calls. I frantically look around for an
escape. The only way is across the river. I guide my horse into the bank. It
shies away from the water. “Come on, it’s okay,” I whisper. At the sound of my
voice the horse’s pinned back ears face front again. He takes a cautious step into the
water. Then another. Then he finally swims across the river. We are both
soaking wet and exhausted when we reach the other side. But we are not safe
yet. The soldiers have gotten to the river. Most of their horses dance away
from the water, all except one who charges in without a fear. I click my tongue
and kick at his sides, but he is too tired to move faster than the horse that
has made it across the water. There is only one option. I have to fight the man
alone. I dismount and the man does the
same. I run to him and swing the sword at his head. He parries it easily and
returns it with a thrust of his own. It takes all my strength to block the
blow, where it takes almost none of his to deliver it. There is no use, he is
stronger, more skilled, less tired. I will never win. Still, I continue to dance the
fatal steps. The prize is the other’s life in their hands. And he won’t be
merciful. I know that I cannot win but I must fight. Parry, block, thrust,
dodge. The clang of steel fills my ears and I focus on it. A pattern appears in
my head. I follow the sequence and the soldier is soon kneeling at my feet, my sword
tip to his neck. “You wouldn’t kill me would you, Vivienne?”
he asks out of breath. “Why should I let you live?” I
snarl. Yet, I do not stab him. There is something so familiar about him. He takes of his helmet, revealing sparkling
silver eyes and dark brown hair. I gasp, my eyes widening in shock. “Richard,”
I whisper. © 2012 BrooklynReviews
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11 Reviews Added on August 2, 2012 Last Updated on August 2, 2012 AuthorBrooklynwhy do you want to know?, MAAboutI'm a fourteen year old girl that is now in her freshman year of highschool. wish me luck!. I'm awful at spelling, and I need to work on "down time" in stories. I also can't seem to write one book for.. more..Writing
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