The Girl With The Brown Horse
Prologue
2 totally different girls, 2 totally different horses, 2 totally different lives. I can't promise you anything, reader. Don't start thinking that everyone will come out alive or that the 2 girls will ever meet. Both of them could die of the plague for all you know. I want you to step out of your body, and into the bodies and minds of these 2 girls. Let go. Release it all. Feel yourself falling. Falling. Deeper and deeper. Just falling. Falling.
Prologue Chapter 1: A New Life Begins
A little coo came from the large barrel in the back. The barrel was as big as the back of a covered wagon and was strapped down to the back with iron straps. It was for transporting wine and beer. but the fair maiden at the reins of this cart had a different purpose for driving such a cart. In the back, a nurse and her assistants and a doctor were delivering an infant from its dead mother. The coo meant that the baby was alive and safe. This babe held secrets that could kill king and collapse a kingdom.
This babe was to be delivered to a poor woman, an ally of the young girl and the force she was in. The woman would leave the babe when it was old enough to care for itself. She would erase almost every trace of herself from the child's memory, for she was a witch in hiding.
This babe was to be delivered to a poor woman, an ally of the young girl and the force she was in. The woman would leave the babe when it was old enough to care for itself. She would erase almost every trace of herself from the child's memory, for she was a witch in hiding.
The dirt road went on for a day and a night and another day. When at last the moon was rising high into the air and the stars lit the sky, the cart pulled up behind an old ''bar'' that was actually a cover for the babe's delivery. The little girl unlatched one of the bars and took the babe from the old doctor. She walked quickly over to the dwelling of the old witch, all the while humming to the babe to soothe it. She passed the poor child into the witch's arms and bid farewell, leaving the babe to live out its fate. Everyone on that wagon was killed by the king's men as they tried to return.
Prologue Chapter 2: Another Very Different Life Begins
A little cry came from the royal chambers. The jeweled doors hid the queen and king and their new little jewel, Rose Viola Ana Sarabeth. The little bundle of joy had begun its new life with a cry. Several of them, actually.
She was a pretty girl from the beginning, with little red curls and deep blue eyes like the sea. Her birth was celebrated as the doors to the balcony opened and the crowd below was satisfied as the royal family walked onto the balcony with their new child. This babe was to be queen one day. The mother happily kissed its foot and the king did as well. Such joy and happiness had not ever been present on the face of the other babe's mother. She had died first.
And So It Began...
Little Rose spun as the sewing hand tightened her straps on the back.
"That should do, little Rose, that should do," she said and began to stitch it tighter.
The little girl began to squirm and the sewing hand stitched on the last stitch. The new blue dress had been finished. It was baby blue and had a big, fat baby blue bow and ribbon. The huge ribbon could be tied around Rose's waist and the bow would be on the back of her waist. It was a very cute dress. The sewing hand was just standing up to admire her work when the queen walked in.
"What a cute new little dress. Nice work, Mandy. I see you used that new bow idea," she said.
"I did, ma'am. It's removable too," Mandy said.
"Well then, why don't you go back to your quarters and rest for a while."
Mandy, who was an old woman indeed, managed a bow and left the room.
"My little Rose," the queen told Rose "What a lovely daughter. Won't your father be proud when he returns." Rose grinned and thought to herself that the world couldn't be better. Little did she know how wrong she was.
Chapter 2
"Manda Valeria, open up!" The witch spooned applesauce from a far off realm into Valeria's mouth. Valeria laughed and giggled and squirmed. the witch was very kind to her and had managed to purchase several items of a strange and peculiar worth.
"What is that, Marilla?" Valeria asked, pointing to a jeweled rattle near the old rotting table.
"A little trinket I picked up at the flea market. A little trader brought it by and had it stuck in a little box. Now what did I do?"
"You snatched it right out?"
"But how did I distract him?"
"Huh?"
"I didn't!"
"Oh."
The witch braided Valeria's hair by the fire and sent her off to bed.
Meanwhile, trouble was brewing nearby.
She was a pretty girl from the beginning, with little red curls and deep blue eyes like the sea. Her birth was celebrated as the doors to the balcony opened and the crowd below was satisfied as the royal family walked onto the balcony with their new child. This babe was to be queen one day. The mother happily kissed its foot and the king did as well. Such joy and happiness had not ever been present on the face of the other babe's mother. She had died first.
And So It Began...
Little Rose spun as the sewing hand tightened her straps on the back.
"That should do, little Rose, that should do," she said and began to stitch it tighter.
The little girl began to squirm and the sewing hand stitched on the last stitch. The new blue dress had been finished. It was baby blue and had a big, fat baby blue bow and ribbon. The huge ribbon could be tied around Rose's waist and the bow would be on the back of her waist. It was a very cute dress. The sewing hand was just standing up to admire her work when the queen walked in.
"What a cute new little dress. Nice work, Mandy. I see you used that new bow idea," she said.
"I did, ma'am. It's removable too," Mandy said.
"Well then, why don't you go back to your quarters and rest for a while."
Mandy, who was an old woman indeed, managed a bow and left the room.
"My little Rose," the queen told Rose "What a lovely daughter. Won't your father be proud when he returns." Rose grinned and thought to herself that the world couldn't be better. Little did she know how wrong she was.
Chapter 2
"Manda Valeria, open up!" The witch spooned applesauce from a far off realm into Valeria's mouth. Valeria laughed and giggled and squirmed. the witch was very kind to her and had managed to purchase several items of a strange and peculiar worth.
"What is that, Marilla?" Valeria asked, pointing to a jeweled rattle near the old rotting table.
"A little trinket I picked up at the flea market. A little trader brought it by and had it stuck in a little box. Now what did I do?"
"You snatched it right out?"
"But how did I distract him?"
"Huh?"
"I didn't!"
"Oh."
The witch braided Valeria's hair by the fire and sent her off to bed.
Meanwhile, trouble was brewing nearby.
Chapter 3
"Witches! Witches I tell you! Every place here in the country, my queen! Casting spells and curses on all whom they seek to unleash their informal and unjust vengeance upon! You could be next, or your husband, or your little daughter Rose! Why, their magic is probably on the very looms that sew your clothes!" An old noble followed the queen around.
"And those clothes, dear old sir, are the finest in the kingdom if you have not noticed. The weavers the most talented in all of the many lands, near and far. What can be said to that, Sir Eisenhower?" the queen smarted back at him.
"A clever man can think of such! How many days have you fallen in all your years of wearing clothes from the looms? How many days have you been ill? Crippled? Unnecessarily tired? Bad luck have befallen you? How many, dear queen?? How clever must you be to count them?"
"I admit that all those things have happened at least once, besides being crippled, of course. But how many days has the poor man been ill, or crippled, or unnecessarily tired, or had bad luck, or fallen? Why, just as many days as I, if not more! And you have insulted me far too much? What cleverness, you ask! Oh, you anger me! You frustrate my calm heart! You have punctured the curtain that holds back anger! And wrath has been unleashed! It is luck that grace and pity hold her back from having you beheaded! Good day, Sir Eisenhower, if Sir is what you deserve in the least! Good day and goodbye!"
That was the end of that particular conversation, but the last of Sir Eisenhower had not yet been heard.
Chapter 3 - 2
Marilla walked down the old dirt road in the countryside with Valeria holding her hand and a woven basket in the other. The farm fields looked plentiful in the harvest and Marilla walked up a dirt path with Valeria hopping along.
Wheat fields swayed in the breeze on either side and a brick house stood ahead, unmoving and still. A small, rotting barn stood without a hint of paint falling onto a side. Hogs wallowed in the mud and oinked all the way. An old, bent man with shiny brown skin sat on the path side and plucked through the dust. Servants pushed through the stalks and harvested them.
Marilla walked up to the house and knocked briskly on the front door.
"Maid service! Marilla and Valeria are here!"
The farmer opened the door. He wore the clothes of a noble and a butler stood sleepy-eyed beside him.
"When did you get such clothes and a butler, Benjamin?"
"Oh, well you see a noble is coming to look over my farm and my clothes weren't just nice enough so I made some and my butler is actually just my friend. Are you here for the sewing and hay?"
"Yes, I am, Benjamin. Valeria is here to help."
Valeria grinned and nodded.
"Well, you know where to go. I'll be supervising the winery. Then I'll go out to pick tomatoes at the greenhouse next door. He gives me 1/2 all I harvest."
Marilla nodded and went briskly towards the room where he kept his hay. She picked up several red cords and began picking up handfuls of wheat and binding them up.
"Go start with the sewing with his wife, Valeria. I'll be in here," Marilla told her.
Hours went by before Marilla appeared in the doorway to get Valeria, "Thank you, Mrs. Smith."
They picked up milk, butter, cream, and some vegetables to put in their basket and they started home.
Marilla put the vegetables into a pot and poured in water. She sprinkled seasonings into it while young Valeria poured the milk into a glass bowl to mix up for a pastry. She took out some of the butter and set it in the sun to melt.
She sat at the doorway and watched the other children in the shops buying candies and dolls and clothes. She saw the huge ungraceful, heavy, and loping strides of the work horses treading on the stone brick road. She saw the graceful and elegant steps of the noble horses that scorned the road as their masters noticed every crack and blemish in the strenuous work of the stone cutters that had cut and carved each brick carefully and with care. She longed for a horse as kind as the work horses and as graceful as the horses of the nobility. She saw the inn's new miniature tethered to the post in the stable as a new saddle was being crafted carefully for it. She saw the Harrison's new foals being taken off to sell. She wondered if she could ever have such a pretty horse.
"Valeria! Come on and eat!"
"Witches! Witches I tell you! Every place here in the country, my queen! Casting spells and curses on all whom they seek to unleash their informal and unjust vengeance upon! You could be next, or your husband, or your little daughter Rose! Why, their magic is probably on the very looms that sew your clothes!" An old noble followed the queen around.
"And those clothes, dear old sir, are the finest in the kingdom if you have not noticed. The weavers the most talented in all of the many lands, near and far. What can be said to that, Sir Eisenhower?" the queen smarted back at him.
"A clever man can think of such! How many days have you fallen in all your years of wearing clothes from the looms? How many days have you been ill? Crippled? Unnecessarily tired? Bad luck have befallen you? How many, dear queen?? How clever must you be to count them?"
"I admit that all those things have happened at least once, besides being crippled, of course. But how many days has the poor man been ill, or crippled, or unnecessarily tired, or had bad luck, or fallen? Why, just as many days as I, if not more! And you have insulted me far too much? What cleverness, you ask! Oh, you anger me! You frustrate my calm heart! You have punctured the curtain that holds back anger! And wrath has been unleashed! It is luck that grace and pity hold her back from having you beheaded! Good day, Sir Eisenhower, if Sir is what you deserve in the least! Good day and goodbye!"
That was the end of that particular conversation, but the last of Sir Eisenhower had not yet been heard.
Chapter 3 - 2
Marilla walked down the old dirt road in the countryside with Valeria holding her hand and a woven basket in the other. The farm fields looked plentiful in the harvest and Marilla walked up a dirt path with Valeria hopping along.
Wheat fields swayed in the breeze on either side and a brick house stood ahead, unmoving and still. A small, rotting barn stood without a hint of paint falling onto a side. Hogs wallowed in the mud and oinked all the way. An old, bent man with shiny brown skin sat on the path side and plucked through the dust. Servants pushed through the stalks and harvested them.
Marilla walked up to the house and knocked briskly on the front door.
"Maid service! Marilla and Valeria are here!"
The farmer opened the door. He wore the clothes of a noble and a butler stood sleepy-eyed beside him.
"When did you get such clothes and a butler, Benjamin?"
"Oh, well you see a noble is coming to look over my farm and my clothes weren't just nice enough so I made some and my butler is actually just my friend. Are you here for the sewing and hay?"
"Yes, I am, Benjamin. Valeria is here to help."
Valeria grinned and nodded.
"Well, you know where to go. I'll be supervising the winery. Then I'll go out to pick tomatoes at the greenhouse next door. He gives me 1/2 all I harvest."
Marilla nodded and went briskly towards the room where he kept his hay. She picked up several red cords and began picking up handfuls of wheat and binding them up.
"Go start with the sewing with his wife, Valeria. I'll be in here," Marilla told her.
Hours went by before Marilla appeared in the doorway to get Valeria, "Thank you, Mrs. Smith."
They picked up milk, butter, cream, and some vegetables to put in their basket and they started home.
Marilla put the vegetables into a pot and poured in water. She sprinkled seasonings into it while young Valeria poured the milk into a glass bowl to mix up for a pastry. She took out some of the butter and set it in the sun to melt.
She sat at the doorway and watched the other children in the shops buying candies and dolls and clothes. She saw the huge ungraceful, heavy, and loping strides of the work horses treading on the stone brick road. She saw the graceful and elegant steps of the noble horses that scorned the road as their masters noticed every crack and blemish in the strenuous work of the stone cutters that had cut and carved each brick carefully and with care. She longed for a horse as kind as the work horses and as graceful as the horses of the nobility. She saw the inn's new miniature tethered to the post in the stable as a new saddle was being crafted carefully for it. She saw the Harrison's new foals being taken off to sell. She wondered if she could ever have such a pretty horse.
"Valeria! Come on and eat!"
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