...I've finally gotten around to posting part of this story thing again. (Surprise, surprise) It's been quite a while, I know. Even after writing and re-writing this, I am nowhere near satisfied, and have come to the conclusion that I don't know how to edit my own writing. As a matter of fact, I don't know how to write-- though I'll probably continue trying for my own pleasure. So anyhow, excuse the many amatuerish mistakes. They bother me more than they will you, I promise. ;-)
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Two days of hard riding... Mountain meadows, monolithic boulders, aspens, rowans, pines, all these swept by, but Abigail saw only the blurred suggestions. Her world stood still, as one white horse galloped on, on... Hoofbeats pounded unceasingly in her ears, like a second heartbeat, and they still dully beat their relentless rhythm when Ablier halted for brief respites. A day, a night, another day, swirled together in Abigail's mind, accompanied by endless hoofbeats.
The shadows were growing long on the second day when Ablier reigned in his horse in a clearing. The golden twilight slowly ceased to spin, but the Abigail wondered dazedly why the hoofbeats only became louder. Suddenly from somewhere ahead in the forest a man's voice began to sing- and into his rich voice was spun a questioning, challenging tone.
"I come with liquid speech, on living wind I ride..."
It was over as soon as it had begun. But Abigail sat as a statue on the horse, straining her ears towards the sound. The pounding hoofbeats ceased to trouble her, for the wild beating of her heart silenced them. And then Ablier sang in reply.
"More alive than others, born with song and with horses..."
His voice dipped and soared, as he breathed a river of joy and life into his words. "Liquid speech..." thought Abigail in wonder. But she puzzled over the prideful claim "More alive than others."
Apparently, these lines were a sort of Lorfinian password. For another man rode up immediately, mounted on a copper horse, and in the warm and fading light she saw he was dressed as Ablier, though older. His auburn beard caught the last glittering gleams of sunlight, and scattered them as clouds piled up in the northern sky. He trotted towards them jovially.
"Ablier, you always arrive exactly on time, my friend! The king does not name you among his most trusted horsemen withough good reason," said the man, with a smile in his voice.
"How goes it, Shearmian? Has anything changed?" asked Ablier urgently. All his joy seemed to have vanished. His voice was powerful when he spoke, but Abigail preferred the flowing beauty and emotion in his song. She wondered why he seemed so anxious.
"No change has come. We are waiting..." the man answered in a lower voice. He nodded at Ablier as if in apology for his vague explanation, and glanced sideways at Abigail. A low rumble of thunder echoed off the sleek mountainside.
"It is She," Ablier said shortly. "Come, ride with me back to the fortress. I will not keep the king waiting." Then both men turned their horses and entered the forest as the first drops fell from the weeping sky.
Now that they were at a slower pace, Abigail fell into a sort of doze. The tangled branches of ancient trees formed a thick canopy, allowing only a few fat drops to fall whispering among the undergrowth. Exhausted as she was, Abigail would have fallen asleep, her head resting on the leather pack that Ablier kept slung over his back, but the forest abruptly ended, and the rain now drummed down on them in full force. Hunching her shoulders and wiping water off her face, Abigail gathered that they were in a very large valley, entirely bare of trees or brush. Through the deluge of rain, she could barely distinguish a smooth-faced hill rising in the middle of the valley. On the summit of this hill stood a massive structure of grey stone.
They rode swiftly through the valley, pummeled by rain, and reached the gate of the fortress completely drenched. Abigail shivered. She wished she could clearly see this foreboding fortress that opened its yawning gate to receive her. They rode through a wide cobbled street, and children peeked out at them from behind doorways that sheltered them from the rain. Abigail envied those children, home and safe, and confident of a warm meal and a dry bed. Sputtering lanterns hung on stone walls, dancing with their reflections in rippling puddles. There were many of these streets, but most of the doorways were empty and the windows were dark.
At last they came to the royal stables, or so announced the sign that hung proudly over the door. But this was a grand building wrought of polished stone, gleaming, even in this gloomy light. As she slid off Ahern, her feet landing lightly on a carpet of spotless sawdust, Abigail gazed in wonder up at the ceiling, far above. "What have I gotten myself into..?" she wondered, with wide eyes as she looked on such riches. "If the stables are so grand, think of the palace." She scarcely noticed the eager pages who led the horses away, carefully admonished by Ablier and Shearmian. As she stood gaping awkwardly, the latter came kindly to her side and led her away. Wet and disheveled as they were, Abigail was informed that they were headed to the royal palace and thence to the King's Hall. All her hopes that he had to be joking were in vain.
Through the rain that had diminished to a dreary patter, they arrived at a pair of double doors, thrice the height of a man, yet wide enough only for two to pass abreast. The guards standing duty barred their way mechanically, but at a few words from Ablier, they suffered the threesome to pass. Abigail shivered again as the doors swung open silently; ominously, she thought. They opened onto a vast circular chamber, and every surface, naturally, was made of stone, but not the customary white or gray. These stones were red, flecked with glittering particles. The ceiling was much higher than the stables.
Many doorways led from this anteroom, but Ablier led them immediately to the one directly opposite and signalled to the guard to open the door. He was a short man, but his eyes challenged Ablier and he said,
"I haven't seen you here before, sir."
"Neither have I seen you," answered Ablier softly, holding his gaze with slightly narrowed eyes.
In the back of her mind, Abigail faintly realized that she was learning to read his expressions. But then, she felt she had to, since he surpressed all outward emotions.
Apparantly, Shearmian knew Ablier well. Glancing from one man to the other, he left Abigail's side and stepped in.
"You have seen me, Bron. I will vouch for us all. I will also tell you that he is one of the Renowned. Do not let your loyalty to the House make you overly suspicious." He nodded at the small man with a benevolent smile flicking at the corners of his mouth. The guard sheepishly apoligized, lightly touching his sword-hilt and gesturing towards Ablier in salute. Then he reached up and unbarred the door.
Holding his head high, Ablier strode down the columned hall, towards the throne. After him came Shearmian. He was puffing a little after the vigorous ride, with water dripping from his beard, but his pride equaled Ablier's, even though the latter had the greater authority. Abigail was the last, and she nervously tried to match the long stride of the two men. Her eyes darted to and fro about the throne room, and she felt the eyes of all the court dwelling on her. She felt small and alone in this echoing stone hall; the only thing that seemed real and mortal was the carpet beneath her feet, its scarlet pattern worn by the tread of numberous Lorfinians.
Well, I'm finally getting the next part of my writing up! Sorry it's taken so long. This is continued from the last section. To refresh your memory, here's the last paragraph:
Never slowing, they sped through the pass- into the mountains. Disconcerted, Abigail was a stranger to adventures of any sort, and she looked back to catch a fleeting glimpse of her valley, her home, and wondered if she would ever see it again. She clung, trembling, to the mane of the horse, though indeed, she seemed in no danger of falling, so firmly did Ablier support her. On and on they raced, giving Abigail only blurred glances of the beauty of the mountains she had always longed to see. Towering waterfalls they passed, plunged through luscious green undergrowth, galloped across cliffs of a dizzying height. Ever farther they traveled. Yet still the sun glowed on the brink of the horizon. It was to defy time, to ride the pure white stallion. When the sun did set, it was not at all gradual, and then they continued their journey in darkness. The young horseman knew this land well, or his horse did. Abigail began to wonder when, if ever, they would stop.
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Dashing around the corner of a sheer cliff, they found themselves in a sheltered glade, shrouded with the overhanging boughs of evergreen trees. Ablier pulled up his horse, skidding to a sudden stop. He swung one leg over and vaulted off with an energy surprising to Abigail, who felt ready to collapse with weariness. But Ablier saved her from such an awkward demise by reaching up and lifting her down. Seeing her firmly set on her feet, he turned back to the stallion, unbuckling the saddle and bridle, and preparing to rub him down. Abigail stood hesitantly, not knowing what to do. Ablier gave all his attention to his horse. But at last he looked back. Seeing Abigail still standing, he said, with the air of an accomplished mentor,
"Better get some rest, lady. You have a journey ahead of you." Abigail looked at him in confusion.
"Ahead of me... I'm going by myself?" She didn't relish the idea. But he silenced her fears when he replied,
"No, of course I'm coming. My orders were to bring you. But it won't feel like a journey to me. It won't weary me like it will you." He looked slightly amused at her confused countenance. "Surely you understand. It's always easy to go home."
Abigail's eyes widened at this declaration. Ablier surely bore a great love for his country. And pride. She wondered if all Lorfinian men's cheekbones were as high as his, or if their chests swelled so much at every mention of their land. But she sighed and replied,
"I will rest, then." And at a nod from him, she retreated to a leafy nook at the edge of the glade, at the base of one of the great trees. Exhausted, she sank to the ground and gave herself up to slumber, little wondering or caring about her surroundings.
~~~
The high-pitched trilling of a bird woke her at last, and she grudgingly opened her eyes. Early dawn was pouring in through the treetops, dust specks shimmering in its rays. Abigail blinked and raised herself on her elbows, trying not to yawn. But the events of the previous day swirled into her head, waking her completely. There was no sign of Ablier in the clearing. Feeling refreshed and adventurous once more, the maiden rose at last. She glanced rapidly over the glen, and noticed for the first time a bubbling spring at the base of the cliff. She turned towards it, but was forced to move slowly, her muscles aching painfully from yesterday's ride. Splashing water onto her face, she tried not to think of the pain in her limbs, or the awkwardness of the entire journey. She said a silent prayer for her family back home, and also for her father, for it was her habit to pray every day for his safe return.
She was trying to brush the dust off her skirts when when Ablier returned, his thick hair slicked down wet on his forehead. He nodded politely to her.
"I trust you rested well?" he queried. In the fresh light of morning, and now that he was no longer towering above her on his horse, framed in dazzling sunlight, Abigail found she could look at him and answer without shrinking.
"Very well, thank you, sir," she replied with a nod. All the same, she felt she'd better be as polite as possible. She ventured a question. "Will we ride more today?"
"Yes, my orders were that you should be brought with all speed," he replied over his shoulder as he reached for the saddle. Abigail heaved a silent sigh, wishing he would stop talking so much about his orders. But she straightened hastily as Ablier turned back around. He paused, and looked her over; weighing the strength that was stored within her. His eyes saw only a young girl, her fair face open and trusting; her eyes betraying that she was overly conscious of her dusty dress and the long hair that was tossed askew at the mercy of the wind. She was a head and a half shorter than he, and looked altogether devoid of that strength that is so necessary to living in a foreign land. Yet her eyes were full of life and their green depths glimmered. She held her chin high, too, and returned his gaze steadily. Yes, she had courage. And it would serve her well... if she knew how to use it.
"You are tired?" he stated knowingly. Abigail felt as if he had read her mind. He certainly had been sizing her up for something: she didn't know what.
"A little. We- we don't ride horses much in my country," she answered reluctantly. She didn't mention that horses were seldom to found in the valley, because most of them had been ridden off to the Turbulent Wars, mounted by warriors brave and strong. Some of whom had never returned. Her father was one of these. Ablier interrupted her thoughts with his reply.
"Well, you must learn to like them. They are of great value in Lorfinia. One will be trained for your use." Ablier fumbled through the saddle bags. Abigail groaned mentally, scarcely wishing to subject her body to another day of bruises. She chose to change the subject.
"How far is Lorfinia?" She bit her lip, fearing the answer. He did not answer right away, but offered her a small package, which, upon opening it, she found to contain some kind of bread. Suddenly she discovered that she was terribly hungry, and lost no time in availing herself of the contents, with thanks. After producing his own portion, Ablier returned to their conversation.
"If we ride hard, it will take two days. Do you feel up to such a journey?" Abigail relaxed somewhat. It was not as bad as she had feared.
"I think so," she replied shortly. Although two more days of riding would be difficult, she felt she would like to end this awkward journey as soon as possible. Ablier nodded approvingly and picked up the saddle. The stallion whinnied eagerly as he approached, ready to set off. Abigail finished the last of her breakfast and rose from the rock she had adopted as a chair. Watching horse and horseman, she marveled at the way they worked together, Ablier murmuring in his stallion's ear as he adjusted the saddle, and the horse bending his head and turning at Ablier's soft commands.
"What's his name?" she asked as she watched.
"Ahern. It means 'lord of horses.'"
Abigail looked thoughtfully at his back. She wished he would talk more openly. He seemed very guarded and cautious, choosing his words carefully. Indeed, he had shown little emotion of any sort, except loyalty, since they had 'met'. Abigail couldn't understand him. But she had no more time to watch him and ponder, for he fastened the last strap on the bridle and turned around.
"Ready?" he raised his eyebrows in question. Abigail nodded and came up beside him. He looked down at her.
"Do you think you can sit behind and hang on?"
"Yes, probably."
"Good. It's the right way. I held you in front last night so you could get used to riding without being in danger of falling." He leapt into the saddle and reached down. Steeling herself, she grasped his hand and tried to leap up as gracefully as he. It was not successful, though, and she ended up half in the saddle and half out. She winced as she shifted herself into the upright position and tried to straighten her skirts. Ablier held the horse still as she made herself comfortable.
"Sorry..." she muttered with a blush.
"Don't worry. The instructors in Lorfinia will help you become proficient," he replied soberly. But Abigail detected an amused edge to his voice. She blushed deeper and determined to learn how to mount properly.
"Ready?" he asked once more.
"Yes," she replied confidently. At least she tried to make it sound confident.
Ablier turned his horse back onto the path. There he paused for a moment, surveying the sky and surroundings. In the early morning light the mountains shone with magnificence all around them. With a glance back at Abigail, he spoke to his stallion, and they thundered down the trail, into the morning.
A bit hastily written, but I hope it's passable!
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Oh, the Apronista is hosting another fun giveaway! www.apronista.com
Here is some of my writing for your enjoyment and scrutiny! This is a part of something I wrote last week; it was too long to post it all. If any of you wish to read the beginning, I'd be happy to post it in some later entry. This is an example of my usual style of writing: to begin in the middle of a plot, and leave you hanging at the end! I rarely finish my story ideas becauseI have far too many! We'll see ifI ever write more of this- only time will tell! I'd love to hear your input on this, all you HSB authors! And non-authors, too!
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Her mind in a frenzy, she contemplated her choices. Night was falling fast, and to go on was unthinkable. The dog still waited at her feet- waiting for what? Not for her, it seemed, for it gazed unflinchingly Northward. Abigail made up her mind to go back. Even if she didn't make it before dark, she would at least be closer if search parties were sent out. Once firmly set in her decision, she turned on her heel abruptly, and started back down the path- back home. At that moment, the dog leapt to its feet and gave a sharp bark, its body quivering with expectation. Assuming the dog meant to call her back, Abigail resolved not to listen to it, and took another step. But she went no farther, for at that moment a dazzling horseman clad in red, his cloak billowing round him, appeared on the brink of the nearest hill. Never had Abigail seen anything so grand and majestic as the proud young man on the white stallion, silhoutted against the sunset. The sight froze her where she stood. For what seemed like an eternity- and yet a brief moment- neither moved. Then all of a sudden the young man spurred on his mount and came thundering down. Never once did he check his pace, never faltered as he raced towards her; all the winds of the four corners of the world could not have challenged his speed. Terror and wonder fell upon Abigail, and instinctively she put up her hands in a vain effort to guard her face. But when he was almost upon her, the horseman suddenly checked his advance. Motionless, horse and rider towered above her. When the dust had settled he spoke. His urgent, commanding voice rang off the hillsides.
"Greetings, lady Abigail. I am sent by the true king of the realm of Lorfinia. He bid me make all speed to bring to his presence a certain maiden native to this land. He said I should find her here, guided by Silvren. Thus, maiden, I must ask you to come with me. Or, if you refuse, I am bound by my honor to respectfully carry you across the mountains by force. Much speed is necessary, and there is no time for lengthy consideration. Will you come willingly to the realm of Lorfinia? I cannot promise you much comfort, but I believe you will not be unhappy." This said, the rider looked intently down into Abigail's wondering face. Bewildered, she tried to organize her thoughts.
"Why am I needed?" She asked at last.
"For reasons unknown to me, though I do not doubt that they are noble and right. I do my king's bidding without question. So should you," returned the young man briskly. No trace of any emotion showed in his face.
Abigail pondered his words. Honesty rang in his voice, and she felt she could trust him. Yet her family would never know... When she spoke it was with hesitancy, fearing he would refuse. "I will come with you if I can get word to my family. They must know why I do not return. We've already lost my father; I cannot leave without telling them. We are a family." Her last words came out as a sob, much to her regret. But the tall rider did not refuse.
"Very well, I will send Silvren. He has his own way of communicating, which is generally very effective. Silvren!" he called out quickly, and the little dog stepped forward attentively. "Go with all speed to the home of the lady Abigail and bear the news to her family. Comfort them as best you may, and assure them of her safety." As he finished, the dog dashed back down the trail and was lost in the shadows in an instant.
"Now, lady," and the young man reached down to pull her up in front of him. She accepted the hand, and before she had time to think, was seated in the saddle with no effort on her part. He reached around her and picked up the reigns.
"Wait- what shall I call you, please?" Abigail asked quickly.
"My name is Ablier," he returned just as quickly. "Now, we must make haste." And with that, he spurred the horse back over the foothills.
Never slowing, they sped through the pass- into the mountains. Disconcerted, Abigail was a stranger to adventures of any sort, and she looked back to catch a fleeting glimpse of her valley, her home, and wondered if she would ever see it again. She clung, trembling, to the mane of the horse, though indeed, she seemed in no danger of falling, so firmly did Ablier support her. On and on they raced, giving Abigail only blurred glances of the beauty of the mountains she had always longed to see. Towering waterfalls they passed, plunged through luscious green undergrowth, galloped across cliffs of a dizzying height. Ever farther they traveled. Yet still the sun glowed on the brink of the horizon. It was to defy time, to ride the pure white stallion. When the sun did set, it was not at all gradual, and then they continued their journey in darkness. The young horseman knew this land well, or his horse did. Abigail began to wonder when, if ever, they would stop.
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I was awarded the new Lovely Friend award by PoeticMaiden. Thank you so much, Cherise!
It was so hard to decide whom to award. After much thought, I settled on these bloggers, who truly are lovely friends:
Crochetcrazy. Renee is such a sweet blogger, and I am also blessed to know her in real-life! Her posts are always wonderful and she shines Christ in every word she types! Thank you for being a lovely friend, Renee!
Melarooski. Melanie is also my real-life friend, and I'm so happy to know her! She is moving up to Washington St. in May, and I'll miss her sorely, but at least I'll be able to keep up with her on HSB! I love reading her posts, which are always very amusing! Love ya, Mellie!
AuthorElf. It is not often that you know someone who is both a good friend and a good writer. Cyrilla is both. This future published author is one of the first bloggers I knew on HSB- before I signed up I used to comment on her blog! Apparently she bore it very easily, though I confused her, no doubt!
SincerelyAmanda. I'm so grateful to have this talented young lady as my friend. She is encouraging and sweet and I love reading her blog. She just finished a screen play script, which inspires me, because I've always wanted to do something like that!
Desi. Sarah is another of my personal friends! I just couldn't resist awarding them all! She absolutely adores horses and posts interesting facts about them. When I talk with her in person, she talks about lots more than horses, though, and it's so fun to be with her!
Oh, that was so hard! I could have awarded so many more people. All of my friends are lovely! I doubt the guys would appreciate this award, though! Someone should make a more masculine award for them!
Adios, friends!
~Grace
Copyright 2008 by GraceElizabeth
GraceElizabeth
Grace is a 16 year old girl who is continually striving to follow God's leading, but would be constantly embracing failure if God didn't just sweep her off her feet, sometimes against her will. Music is her first love and expertise: specifically voice, but also piano. She has been trained classically, which is a good thing, most of the time, except when she wants to sing pop style... and can't. Her favorite genres of music are Scottish and Irish folk songs/jigs, and film music. Grace also takes pleasure in the beautiful diversions of writing poetry, Ultimate Frisbee, sketching, dancing in the rain, Irish Step Dancing, speech and debate tournaments, scrapbooking, acting, reading, photography, standing outside at night while the wind whips the trees every which way, owning a cellphone, and talking about herself in the third person. Home My Profile Archives RSS Feed
