* * * * * * * *
Alice's younger brother Peter helped shovel dirt into the small grave. The late autumn wind whistled a melancholy tune. It whispered through the almost barren trees making them shed the last of their colorful leaves.
Little Mary, who was only 5 years old, slipped her tiny hand through her older sister Alice’s hand. Alice squeezed it gently to reassure her. Elizabeth was only 3 yet Death cared nothing for tender age. They buried Elizabeth next to their father who had died 8 months before. They used a simple wooden cross as a marker.
Despite their grief their stomachs grumbled. They were all so hungry. Ever since the Normans conquered England 5 years ago they had made the forests theirs and anyone caught “poaching” in their woods was punished. Alice’s own father came home one day without his hands… well not without them. They were hanging about his neck like some gruesome necklace.
The stag brand on his wrist was cut off. Possibly father had done it himself. Alice never fully understood why her father was so secretive about it but instinct held her in check and she never told anything about it to anyone.
The priest continued his monotonous sermon as Peter, after finishing filling the small grave, leaned in and whispered to his sister, “Do you still say we should stay out of the forest? We could have saved her with some small rabbit at least.”
His tone contained a bitter edge. Peter and Alice were only a year apart and so were quite close. They would go hunting with their father and learned everything he knew. To Alice, her father was the greatest hunter. It was a blow to see him brought so low by the Normans. She felt it was his damaged pride and broken heart more than the fever that took him.
Alice looked to the forest. It seemed like an uncertain fortress now. Her wrist began to itch. She never feared the woods, it was the consequences that made her tremble and wary. She fought a lump in her throat then she looked over to her mother. Her mother was pale, paler than usual these days. She was once of rosy complexion with her golden sun hair. Alice had her father’s auburn hair and brown eyes. That’s what made it so hard for her to look at her eldest daughter.
“Take mother home,” Alice whispered back. “She needs to rest.”
Peter stood silent, thinking about being defiant and argue but in the end he relented and did as he was told. Their mother leaned on her eldest son for support. She was more like a broken old mare allowing herself to be lead anywhere without thought of destination. Alice once more turned towards the forest whose branches were becoming barren. Still they concealed so much.
Mary sensed her sister’s inner conflict and held onto her leg. If they had their crops it would have been easier but the Normans, trying to quench rebellion, burned down most of the villages and farms including theirs. Winter was around the corner. If Alice didn’t find food soon none of them will last the winter.
* * * * * * * *
Alice had the dream again. It had been years. She had not had the dream since before her father's death. She was lost in the woods. Darkness enveloped the world making it eternal night. It was a cold that cut through wool and flesh chilling right to the bone. The trees were bare with black gnarled claws that reached for her but she dodged their deadly grasp.
Alice had never felt so alone...
Then there was a light, a sort of star illuminating the night. It called to Alice and she followed it through the trees that seemed to part. There was a lake and on the banks was a glowing white stag with a red spot drinking from the black watery abyss.
It was the most beautiful creature that Alice had ever seen. She had raised her bow, pulling it back ready to fire an arrow until it's head rose up gracefully. It wore it's antlers like a noble king wearing his crown. The white stag had an unearthly nobility, an ethereal beauty that it would have been a sin to kill it.
Alice lowered her bow in reverence. The creature caught her in his sights. It's big black eyes seemed to penetrate her very soul. Alice felt naked as it watched her. Then in no time at all it seemed to be only two feet in front of her.
Then Alice saw clearly a red spot on it's chest. It wasn't a natural coloring but a bleeding wound. Fear and despair gripped Alice. Her heart sunk deep within her until it dropped like a stone in her stomach.
The stag raised it's hoof then crushed it upon Alice's chest. She struggled to breathe. Her brand burned with all the pain and intensity as if it were being once more freshly applied. It was then that Alice woke up in a cold sweat. Her brother and sisters in the same bed all stirred at the disruption but were heavy sleepers.
Alice rested her head in her hands. She was trembling as her auburn hair cascaded over her face, hiding it from any prying eyes. She looked at her hands then at her brand. Her throat constricted as she held back mournful sobs. If her father were here she could talk about the dream but not even Peter would have understood the warning.
* * * * * * * *
Alice was up before the sun. The winter dawn creeped up slowly on the cold world as she pulled on her breeches and boots. With male clothes Alice truly looked boyish with her willowy figure and angled features. She looked to her wrist to see the stag brand that her father had given her when she had the dream... It itched whenever she felt a foreboding.
Peter leaned against the door frame pouting. He took after their mother. When he pouted he looked just like her, blue eyes and barley hair.
"I still don't see why I can't go with you?" he said irritated.
"I move faster alone," Alice retorted. "You need to protect the girls while I'm gone."
"Father would not want you to go alone."
"Father is dead," Alice retorted. "I'll be back before midday."
* * * * * * * *
Alice sat quietly in the brush. Her breath was visible, blowing out like a bad spirit. She tried to keep her breathing to a minimum. The sun was peeking through giving light to the barren forest until it disappeared behind heavy grey clouds.
The wind chilled Alice to the bone but her father's voice echoed in her head about patience. That’s when she saw it. A doe walked into the clearing in the ray of the sun as if God Himself pushed the creature into her line of sight.
Alice prepared her bow. Her fingers burning on the string. Her brand itched. She ignored it. Her stomach growled so loud she thought the doe would hear it. Suddenly the doe's ears pricked up. Her head rose up her entire body frozen and alert.
Alice heard the faint thundering of hooves. Her body tensed as much as the doe. In a flash the creature was gone just as barking dogs joined the chaos. Alice swore under her breath at the Normans' horrible timing.
Her auburn braid whipped around as she crouched further into the brush. If she could she would have sunk into the mud if it wasn't frozen solid. Alice controlled her breathing, her heart still beat against her breast as panic spread through her body.
Soon enough 3 noblemen on horseback came charging into the clearing chasing after the doe. Alice watched as the well dressed noblemen cheered and shouted in their native tongue. Alice couldn't understand a word.
Alice kept her eyes wide and alert for any chance to slip away that was until an arrow was fired from the direction of the doe, hitting a hunting dog instead. Alice's heart shrunk as her lungs constricted. Even from a distance she could recognize the arrow.
Peter always used red feathers for his arrows. The idiot. He must have followed her into the forest. He knew them as well as she did if not better. One of the servants of the noblemen had caught the errant poacher. Sure enough it was Peter.
One of them, Alice assumed it was the lord of the manor of the forest, walked his horse up to the young man. This lord spoke their language. He was loud and coherent. Alice saw that he had black hair as black as a raven's wing and eyes like a spring sky. Something within Alice seemed to melt but fear rattled her ribcage as she watched the servant hit Peter when he refused to answer the lord.
"I said who are you?" the lord asked. "Answer me. I am your lord."
Peter looked up at him. He defiantly remained silent.
"You killed one of my hunting dogs," the lord glared. "You know the penalty for hunting in the lord's woods."
Peter spat in the ground at the lord's horse's feet. The servant hit him again so hard that Peter fell to the frozen ground spitting up blood.
"So be it," the lord grumbled. "Take him back to the castle. We'll deal with him tomorrow morning."
Alice could do nothing but watch them drag her brother away. She felt herself break inside. A piece of her seemed to be dragged away with Peter. She knew what would happen next.
* * * * * * * * * *
Alice's fingers twitched nervously. She heard the thunder of hooves drawing closer. She wore her best woolen green dress. It was only supposed to be worn for one occasion... Alice shook her head free of old hurtful memories.
"Alice...," Little Mary tightened her grip on her sister's hand. Alice could have dived into her little sister's big doe eyes.
"It will be alright," Alice returned a squeeze as she pulled herself and her little sister out of the forest to face a much more dangerous beast than they would ever face in the woods.
The lord of their land saw the two of them on the road and held up his hand to halt his party. It was the same lord that Alice saw taking her brother away. She hoped it wasn't too late. Hopefully Peter was in a cell awaiting some trial and not... Alice shuddered to think of the worse.
"Remove yourself from Lord Robert de Percy's path, wench!" a nobleman barked.
Alice stood tall and brave despite her disheveled appearance. She was in quite a hurry to get an audience. She knew the best way was to stop the lord on his way to hunt. She had stolen away into the forest long enough to learn that Lord Robert loved hunting.
"I said remove yourself!" a knight drew his sword. Mary shrieked and hid behind her older sister who stood as firm and as undaunted as an old oak. Lord Robert smiled.
"Sheath your sword, Sir Christopher," Robert's blue eyes smiled as well. Alice felt herself blush. She prayed to whatever god was listening to help her.
"Forgive my knight," Lord Robert had a French accent for sure but it wasn't prominent, he must have come here as a child and grew up among the English. "He is not good with women."
"Forgive me, Lord de Percy," Alice did her best curtsy but she might as well have been a new born fawn stumbling to learn to walk. "But I am on an urgent mission."
"Then tell us, my lady," Lord Percy spoke nobly. "It is a knight's duty to help a woman in distress."
Many men in the party snickered when Robert said "my lady", Alice was as far from a "lady" as possible. Her face was a bit smudged despite her best to clean it and there were some tears in her dress. She wasn't used to being in a dress so she had stumbled a few times on the way here.
Alice took a deep breath then pulled out her little sister in hoping to gain more sympathy.
"My lord," Alice looked de Percy straight in his spring blue eyes. "My name is Alice Groves and my brother Peter is your prisoner."
"Your brother?"
"She could mean the boy you caught this morning, my lord," said Sir Christopher.
"Ah the poacher," Robert nodded grimly. "There is not much you can do for him I am afraid. He will be punished according to the law."
"What crime is so terrible that my brother deserves such harsh punishment?"
"He poached in my forest."
"He was trying to feed his family," Alice pleaded trying to keep her own pride in check.
"Poaching in a lord's forest is forbidden by law," Sir Christopher argued sitting straight on his horse, towering over them. Mary was frightened as well as in awe. She had never seen a horse as big and fine as Lord Robert's. It might have been some mythical beast from those old tales of pagans.
"It wasn't always your forest," Alice couldn't help but bite out. She realized her mistake when she saw Lord Robert frown.
"Shall I cut out this spiteful bitch's tongue out, my lord?" Sir Christopher drew his dagger causing Mary to whimper. Alice held onto her sister tightly as well as reached carefully for her hidden blade, ready if anyone should try to separate them.
Robert held up his hand for the knight to halt and sat on his horse staring at Alice. She felt herself blush again as a shiver ran through her. She told herself it was the cold but even as she hugged her cloak to her body the lord's stare stayed with her.
Robert looked into Alice's big brown eyes. She wasn't a classic beauty but there was something about her that he couldn't shake. A hidden wildness, a mystery deep and dark that cried out to him. Then his eyes alighted on the quivering toddler.
"Is this your daughter?" he asked.
"My sister, Mary," Alice explained. "My other sister and mother are at our farm. They would have made the journey with us but my mother is heavy with child and my sister is ill."
The lord's entourage held their breath as he dismounted his horse. Alice braced herself for whatever would come next. He approached until he and Alice were a foot apart. Alice's heart fluttered.
"I am sorry to hear about your family," Robert spoke softly. That morning Alice had heard him speak with such authority she didn't expect to see such sympathy or kindness in his beautiful eyes.
"You are the conquerors," Alice said. "We accept that but that means we are your people now. And leaders take care of their people."
"You are quite wise for some uneducated farm girl," Robert nodded. They stared at each other for a while. Alice could have sworn she could hear his heart beat as well.
"My huntsman is ill as well," he said. "Perhaps your brother can work off his crime."
"My lord! Surely not!" Another knight cried.
"Sir James," Robert called. "Go back to the castle and fetch young Peter Groves."
"Yes, my lord," Sir James was perhaps the only one who didn't argue with Lord Robert. He rode off quickly to do as his lord bid.
"You shall accompany us," Lord Robert said. It wasn't an offer. Alice swallowed hard but kept her face undaunted. "Your brother could use the encouragement. If he fails then he will have more than his hands cut off."
Sure enough the high lord was back, the kind understanding man retreating back behind the fine furs and leather. Alice's brand which lay hidden behind a leather bracelet itched. It took all of her strength not to scratch it as the pit in her stomach grew heavy like a stone.
* * * * * * * *
No comments:
Post a Comment