The Maiden's Song (draft-editing)

Chapter 2 Memories

Chapter 2 Memories

I

The heavy wooden door opened making a squeaking sound and a pair of green eyes flickered reflecting the dim light of the candle as they peeped into the girl's room. The lovely father checked on his daughter before going to bed himself. "Why is the young lady not sleeping yet?", his voice came soft soft and tender, rather than a scolding.

With happy emerald eyes, the little red haired girl tucked in bed, smiled at him. The lovely father sat next to her, placing a candle on the bedside table.

"I was waiting for you to read me a story Papah. Would you?" the girl sat up straight on the bed and put her hands together mimicking a charming plead.

"I didn't bring any book, Am." He shrugged playfully to his daughter showing his empty hands.

"No worries Papah. You know lots of great stories. Tell me one of knights and castles." Her eyes posed on her father, the lass laid back, cuddling onto bed as it was the time for bedtime stories she loved so much.

"...There was a time of war. Barbaric tribes attacked from the east, Roman soldiers raged from the south; Norse Vikings navigated skillfully across the frozen north sea striking at ease, and nomad tribes roamed freely all around these valleys. They fought against each other for the domain of the fertile lands teeming with life and beauty. Many good men fell defending their families, their lands and crops... Blood stained red the green grass of the prairies and many women and children were left defenseless, at their own fate. The fairies, elves, dwarfs, nymphs, and all the ancient creatures that lived here before humans did and hovered amongst this beautiful kingdom, hid deep in the woods and caves far away in the inlands.

Nearby this village, the widows and the orphan maidens gathered by the Angel's Fall to wash clothes and collect water like the girls from this village do nowadays.

That summer morning, a group of girls washed their clothes by the shore. Having so much fun, they went swimming in the clear and warm water. All of a sudden, they heard noises in the nearby bushes. The sound of braking twigs on the floor alerted them of someone coming. With heavy footsteps, a herd of barbarians made it to the clear. The four girls were all by themselves, scared to death. As an evident danger, the bulky bearded men approached while the girls grouped in the middle of the lagoon trembling, trying to cover their nakedness with their hands. The sun light reflected on the evil men's swords in the way they advanced menacingly.

Crying and praying for their lives, the girls found themselves defenseless and hopelessness. While the barbarians stepped into the water, they knew there was no way for them to escape. Only a miracle could save them.

It was when out of nowhere, a strong gust blew with fierce. With the turmoil, the trees bent, their branches shaking convulsively. Taking a swirling shape, the wind moved above the water surface to form a whirlpool in the middle of the lagoon... To everyone's astonished eyes, a white sphere of light emerged from the turbulent taking the form of a human figure.

Both terrifying and magnificent, the silhouette soon defined to be an angel. As he was ethereal, a golden mane rested on its shoulders, deep purple eyes shone like amethysts on his handsome and beyond perfect face. A pair of silver wings sprouted from his broad back and everything went quiet, as if time had stopped in that place.

The creature flapped its shining wings to fly above the group of girls, standing above the water surface between them and the evil men. Darting with threatening eyes to the bandits, he warned them in a deep voice. "Leave or die!"

Only the dust behind their sandals was left when the Barbarians fled into the woods without even looking back... That day, the maidens were saved by the angel."

Little Am was already asleep. The amorous father kissed his daughter's forehead and tucked her up. He smiled staring at his sleeping little princess. A pad on his shoulder announced him that his beloved wife was there. She had been standing by the door all the time enjoying the tender father-daughter moment.

"She has the most wonderful father in the world", the woman said.

The man stood up and hugged her tight. "And I have the most beautiful wife in the world. I love you so much, Jocelyn." He kissed her with tenderness.

"Y yo te amo, Anibal de Albis." The woman spoke in a broken Spanish accent almost in a whisper, kissing him back with passion.

"I love when you speak to me so sensually in Spanish. You are doing so much better, mi amor." The strong man lifted his wife in arms and carried her out of the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

II

After dusting the old books on the shelves, Amalthea grabbed one and opened it. The girl glanced over the yellowish and thin pages with watery eyes. After scanning all around the place, she sighed. Everything remained in the same place his Papah had left it before he passed away six years ago: the huge floor to ceiling wooden shelves built by himself displayed a fine collection of rare books and antiques. Holding the book against her chest, she closed her eyes, letting memories to find a place to dwell in that moment. Memories that hurt though lingered still vividly as if was today.

The strong knock on the door made Jocelyn's spine shiver and her blood pulsed in her veins quicker than ever... There have four days since Papah left to work on the trade market. Jocelyn expected the worst, yet she had some hopes and waited for her beloved husband to return alive. He never left without letting know his wife if he was going to stay a bit longer or to travel southernmost. Anibal would have sent a message if something went wrong or planned to stay a few more days. But this never happened, and she wasn't able to sleep the two nights before, time he was supposed to return home. Little Am was missing him and constantly she asked her mother about him while noticing his absence.

When Jocelyn opened the door, a cold breeze blew on her face making her body tremble. She stared beneath the two tall figures in black armor standing by the door, straight to a carriage with some big bulk covered in a white sheet...

Jocelyn' worst fears come true and she only wanted to run and scream. Her knees shook as it was almost impossible to her hold herself straight up...  the tiny hand grabbing her hand urged Jocelyn to contain herself from an breaking. In a slow pace, mother and daughter walked towards the cart bringing the Spaniard's corpse. Careful not to reveal too much of rests to her little Am, she lifted the carmine- stained fabric. Her tears flowed down her cheeks, while in sobes she contemplated and stroke with her fingers the coldness in her dead husband's forehead. Behind her, the guards read some sort of condolence letter written by King Ataro himself, a message she was not able to listen to at that moment. Her grieving and pain spoke louder than the monarch's words, or the words of condolence those gathering by addressed. It was more a babbling carried away by the wind.

Hello guys, I'm slowly working in the editing process of this novel, written in August 2013. Tell me what do you think of it.