Chapter 1 of The Sparrow's Song. |
Chapter 1: An Arrow of Fate Who was that girl?’ This question pestered Raoul as he followed his older brother home. Tall pines swayed with the murmuring of the breeze, gossiping about the female he had seen mere moments before. Relentlessly repeating in his thoughts was the scene that had unfolded. The stolen prey, the disappearing maiden, the dangerous feeling of curiosity. How could anyone have foreseen such a mysterious encounter? The afternoon had started off as any before it. After their duties had finished, both princes set off into the woods for a hunt. Fawning servants annoyed them both equally, but had to be endured. A court of subservient nobles was no better, but was enthused with an air of finesse. The king’s constant attention was worst of all, though that as well was taken. Such was life for them: and nothing could possibly be duller. Fate had very strange ways of introducing itself, and the eve had been proof of that fact. * * * * * “Too slow! You fall behind, brother. Quicken up some!” No response to the call. Nothing from the second rider, who trailed by bounds behind the other. “Come, Raoul, you can do better!” Raoul glared forward at his older sibling, his eyes determinedly set. His heels dug into his horse’s side, urging it forward. Both brothers were shadowed blurs as they heedlessly darted through the forest. Flying over fallen logs. Trampling bushes that lay in their path as the younger male tried to speed up to match the pace of the older one. The race only stopped when they reached their destination. Beyond the shade of the trees glistened a lake, lit by the evening sunlight. Raoul and his stallion were still several paces behind. The older brother leaned against his chestnut steed, grinning back at his brother when he pulled his trembling horse to a stop. “Slower and slower each time. Is it you or your stallion?” Raoul swung down from the his saddle and flung away the reins. His overexerted steed got no second glance or reward for its part in the race. “You took off before me, the odds were out of my favor.” “As is life, Raoul. So complain not for my being unfair. It shall not get any easier.” The younger male started to speak, but stopped before a word fully left his lips. His brother spoke truth, but his tongue dared not to admit it. “Let us hunt. ‘Tis a beauteous morn, animals shall be aplenty.” “And perhaps you may reclaim your pride if you manage to catch anything this time.” The taunts between the two siblings were much alike a family tradition. Everything was a contest, each day was a race to see who would come out on top. Granted the elder son always had their father’s favor, the younger rarely stood a chance. They were the best of friends, and the bitterest of foes: but neither held any hatred or jealousy of the other. Raoul remounted his shaking brown horse, shifting the quiver of arrows that lay across his shoulder. The bow, along with it’s projectiles, were made from the finest oak: both brother shared this quality of weapon at least, and were equal in that aspect. “An hour, and no longer.” The younger sibling nodded, and both parted separate trails in their search for prey. A foreboding feeling laced the breeze, and hung at the back of Raoul’s mind as he urged his steed onward. Forests were so peaceful in the evenings. Ever since the laws on hunting had been put up, everything had been quieter. No more peasants stealing prey or setting traps. Poachers were promptly sentenced whenever they were caught, which was becoming less of a problem as the sentencing become increasingly more severe. Raoul glanced around the scenery, more observant for noise than anything else. Beauty of forests were a lost cause on him. The pines and cedars lean and swayed with the breeze, but their whispers were silent. Treetops as high as the mountains framed the cerulean ceiling, pristine and clear. Shapeless clouds splattered the vast expanse of blue. His head turned as a branch cracked nearby. Just a squirrel. ‘That would not impress anyone.’ And so he continued his search. The prince wandered aimlessly without any shred of luck, nothing much birds and rats and rabbits. On a good day he would have spotted at least a small canine of some sort, perhaps even a monstrous bear. He had lost track of time, and didn’t know how far he had gone from his original path. For all he knew, he could have been miles off the border of the kingdom. He reined in his stallion to glance around and check his bearings, his gaze skimming the tree splattered land to find any hint of location. The highest peaks of the flags flying above his stony home were visible above the treetops: he couldn’t be too far off trail. A rustle from the shrubbery caught his attention. A deer stood feet away in a small clearing, grazing peacefully. His hand steadied at the string, his eyes trained upon the unsuspecting buck. Its head rose, and the bow prepared. An arrow flew, cutting across the scenery of the serene forest. The mighty animal fell with a soft snort and nothing more. A shaft of pine sticking from its side, right where the deer’s heart resided. The male upon his horse lowered his bow, his lips parted with surprise and shock. His own arrow remained in his grasp. His gaze surveyed the forest, scanning for any other shadow. Then he saw the archer who had stolen his prize. A young woman stood across from him. Her autumn locks were strewn across her cloaked shoulders in tattered waves. Dirt marked her hands and face, her skin pale as bitter winter breath. Despite her talent, her fingers and body were too fragile in looks for her to possess much strength. However, there was one thing that caught his eye. One trait that distinguished her from any petty little peasant. Her eyes. Her captivating eyes stood out against her dark flames of hair. They were the truest shade of blue he had ever seen, and shone like the sea. Nothing of her appearance hinted towards a noble rank. But then, why was she hunting here? Without the king’s permission, any hunter would be imprisoned if caught. The prince dismounted slowly, his gaze never leaving the girl. What would he say? What would he do? He didn’t know, but didn’t dare ignore this. Would he question her? Would she run? Surely she would not make it far before he caught up again. No, he would not chase her, for that may do her harm. “Raoul!” The prince’s head turned towards the voice. If Demetri saw her, she would be forced to give up her quarry and claim her business in the king’s woods. As he turned back to where the woman had been standing, she had vanished into thin air. Could he have imagined the young lady? Nay, her looks had been too real to have been a daydream. A figment of his imagination could not have been so distinctly visible. "Hello? Is anyone near? I shall harm you not." He left his weapon with his horse in an effort to draw out the maiden. Still, she remained invisible; yet the weight of her gaze lingered, he could feel it. A few steps forward was all that was taken, a glance around through every shadow. No luck. “Raoul!” The young prince turned and returned to his stallion, which seemed also to be looking for the mysterious female. His gaze turned back to the deer, which lay proof of her existence, before he mounted onto the saddle. One never takes a prize which he had not killed himself. His heels dug into the horse's sides, and the stallion galloped off back the direction they had come. But the fair maiden would not leave his thoughts to peace. ‘Who was she?’ The chestnut stallion and its rider stood a ways down the trail. Upon the back of his saddle lay a fox. Demetri’s ivy eyes lit with the light of a cat’s. His lips quirked at the corners, tugging his smile into something else. “Nothing? Another failure of the hunt?” The younger sibling turned his gaze away, then over his shoulder. “My quarry escaped me. I am sorry to disappoint.” The older male sighed and tossed a rabbit over. It was caught with a grateful nod and smile. “Very well then. Let us be homebound, the eve draws near. Father will worry if we remain too long away.” “Aye. Lest he worry for your sake. He could care less about me.” “Hush. Do not speak so badly of him!” The chastisement was prompt, and Raoul had barely finished. His mind wandered back to the clearing, back to the fallen buck and the maiden who had downed it. ‘Who was that girl?’ |