As They Fall [First Draft] ~ Currently Editing ~

2 (first edit)

"Amelia, you look absolutely beautiful!" exclaimed my uncle as I descended a large oak staircase. I blushed and did a small twirl when I reached the bottom to show off the gorgeous gown. He grinned and sighed, "lovely, just lovely," a wistful gleam in his eyes. He held out his arm and I placed my hand delicately on his forearm allowing him to lead me out the front door. Beyond, was a large expanse of lush, green grass with a hedge fence and patches of wildflowers growing either side of a wide stone pathway. We continued down the path until we reached our awaiting carriage, a frown creasing my brow when I saw Moon, harnessed to the carriage, her white hair contrasting against the larger chestnut mare beside her.

"Uncle," I whispered furiously, "why is Moon pulling the carriage? She is not built for pulling carriages." He stepped down from the carriage and peered at Moon, a frown not unlike my own knitting his brows together.

"You there, boy!" he called, pointing to George, the young stable boy who was nervously fiddling with one of the buckles on Moon's harness, he swallowed audibly and stammered,

"Yes, m'lord?"

"Why is Lady Amelia's horse harnessed to the carriage?" George swallowed once more, staring at the ground as he mumbled,

"Well, erm, the thing is m'lord, there's been an outbreak of sickness in the stables and those two are the only ones who aren't too ill to move."

"What!?" shouted Henry, "Why was I not informed of this?" George remained silent and looked at his feet. I stood frozen in shock. I couldn't believe it. My horses were all dead or dying. My uncle glared at the stable boy still awaiting an answer. When he received none, he struck the boy across the face and stepped into the carriage. I followed up after him and gave George a sympathetic look as the carriage moved away from the manor.

"How can this be?" I queried, searching the tired lines in my uncle's face for an answer.

"The livestock across Galaan have been dropping like flies for the last few months, but this is the first time I've seen this sickness affect horses..." He trailed off for a moment, his brown eyes tracing the horizon, "This is bad. First the crops and livestock, now the horses. I fear we will have a famine on our hands if things do not change soon." My eyes widened at the prospect and I looked out the window, an ominous clap of thunder sounding overhead, the beautiful morning weather erased by the heavy black clouds that now covered the sky. It had begun to drizzle, water droplets cascading down the glass in a race to the bottom.

The town moved by as we rushed past bakeries, butchers, tailors, and houses. As we passed through the empty town square, I was surprised to see Charlie was absent from his forge. Even in the worst weather he would still work, the bellows of his forge roaring day and night. I shrugged away my worry only to have guilt resurface, a reminder of our earlier argument. He had just been looking out for me, as always. I closed my eyes and leant against the carriage window, recalling our first meeting.

It was six years ago when I was eleven and he fourteen that our paths crossed for the first time. He a blacksmith's apprentice, and I the niece of a Baron. Thinking about it now, I had definitely seen him before, but we had never spoken. It was dangerous for young ladies to 'mingle with the commoners' as Uncle Henry had put it. Not that I had never heeded his warnings before. Confined to the manor for much of my imaginative childhood it wasn't long before I discovered the false back in my wardrobe, the room that lay beyond it and the hidden passage to the village.

When I stumbled my way into the village for the first time I had arrived just in time for the Harvest Day festival. Everyone from miles around had come to sell their produce. There were farmers, cloth traders, merchant caravans and livestock traders with piglets, lambs and ducklings for sale. I marvelled at all the sounds, sights and new smells that filled my nostrils. Glad that I had brought money from the house, I bought a rather expensive locket from a man peddling trinkets of silver and gold, who grinned in delight when I handed him the money, revealing several missing teeth. Securing the locket in my pocket for the time-being I continued through the marketplace until I reached the blacksmith. Charlie's father, Peter.

His stall was an impressive display of immaculate craftsmanship, with rows of swords, shields, daggers and armour gleaming in the sun. I held my breath as my fingers hovered above the blades, admiring their perfect edges and engravings. With a rush of air, I stopped over a large dagger with sapphires in the hilt and gingerly balanced it between my fingertips.

"Now what would a young lass like you be needing with something like that?" came Peter's curious voice, as he peered over his display at me.

"Perhaps I intend to slaughter the townsfolk," I replied cheekily, "Or maybe I need it for self-defence. I don't think you'll ever solve the mystery of the little girl who bought the dagger; just know that I want it and I'll pay you for it." He let out a hearty chuckle when I was done, and stroked his rough stubble thoughtfully.

"What would your uncle have to say about you being out and about on your own, little lady?" I faltered for a moment but there was something in his deep blue eyes that made me think I could trust him.

"Is that any way to treat a customer?" I retorted, regarding him with a look that was braver than I felt. Truthfully, my heart was hammering in my chest at the prospect of being found out. To my relief, he simply laughed once again.

"You have a sharp tongue for a young lass. That'll be five gold pieces." Beaming up at him, I drew out the coins and dropped them into his rough, calloused hands. As I picked up the dagger he added,

"Now you be careful with that, I don't want to have to explain to the Baron why his niece is missing a finger."

"I will," I called over my shoulder, already scurrying off towards the merchant caravans. There were hundreds of merchants in the town that day. One man was selling a variety of dyed fabrics and gowns, his large, rotund belly straining to escape his doublet as he announced the incredible quality and beauty of his garments. Beside him was a thin man with a beard so long he could tuck it into his belt, allowing his collection of exotic birds do the advertising for him. I paused beside the cage of a beautiful blue parrot and peered up at it, but when it's feathers flushed bright red and it hissed at me, I was quickly running in the other direction.

As I wandered amongst the merchants, trying to catch my breath I spied an elderly woman displaying bottles of different coloured liquids at her stall and headed toward her.

"What are these?" I blurted out, eyes wide with curiosity. The lady regarded me with suspicion before replying,

"Potions."

"Potions!" I gasped in amazement, "What do they do?" The woman cracked a smile at my enthusiasm and said,

"I sell all kinds of potions. I have potions for healing, poisons, potions to make people fall in love, potions to change the way you look, the way you feel, anything."

"Amazing!" I couldn't drag my eyes away from the array of colours lining the shelves before me but the lightness of my coin pouch suggested I would be leaving empty handed.