Forged in Exile

The Child Who Bears a Crown

Note from the writer: Please feel free to leave comments for me! I love getting feedback!

The night grew longer and into the morning. The sun was barely cresting the horizon our travelers had crossed the night before. Sir Garreth walked into The Bard's Barrel to glean the usual report from Malcolm. As he approached the bar he noticed a small child with auburn hair weeping softly and holding tightly to her wrist. Malcom approached with his eyes also on the little one. "Where'd she come from?" the knight asked. Malcom shook his head and sighed, "A woman came in and bought food and drink for the both of them. When I came back out here from the kitchen, the woman's food had remained untouched and the child was all alone. I've given her water and asked her questions, but the lass won't speak to me. She appears to be in pain." Sir Garreth's eyebrows furrowed. "I'll see what I can do. Any other news to report? Aside from Tig being drunk again?" The knight nodded his head at the man with his feet on the table. "Nothing else, Garreth." The knight nodded in acknowledgement and walked over to the child.

Sir Garreth knelt down next to the child, making her jump a little. "Shh it's okay little one," he said in a deep voice. "I do not mean to frighten you. Are you hurt?" The child looks up at the knight and holds her arm out to him reluctantly. Afraid she might get in trouble with her Momma for speaking to a stranger.

Upon inspecting her wound, Sir Garreth struggled to maintain his composure. This small child, no older than his own son, had been carved into. The wound was a ghastly red from the raw skin and in the oddest, intricate, and deliberate shape. A crown? He thought to himself. "I know it hurts but may I look closer?" The child held still, as if she wasn't breathing. Looking closer, the crown had three spikes rising from it. This puzzled the knight. The crown with three spikes was the symbol of the Dravend kingdom's royalty. But none of the four dwarf kingdoms had announced any daughters born.

Not only that, but this child had ears that were pointed, not as narrow as an elf's, but certainly not those of a dwarf. As he was lost in thought, the child whimpered. Sir Garreth came to his senses and withdrew a small bag of medicinal salve. "Here try this, it will be very cold, but it should take away the pain." He spread the salve over the shape as the child flinched. When the salve was wiped away, the wound was much less red and not warm to the touch. The child stared in disbelief at the knight. Sir Garreth smiled and pulled a leather strop from his satchel and tied it around the wound. This will protect her. If anyone in town knew who she was... But he couldn't think about that. What was important now, was to get an understanding of what she was doing here and where her guardian was.

"Keep this on," he said pointing to the strop. "It will help keep the dirt from getting in and allow it to heal." The child smiled and nodded as she sniffled and wiped her eyes causing the ash on her face to smear like war paint. "Now, can you tell me where the woman who came with you is?" The child pointed at the door and in the smallest voice said, "Mama's friend was going to help us. But Mama never came back in." The knight looked down at the uneaten plate of food the woman had purchased. If she was lying, and going to abandon her child... Why would she bother buying a plate of food? he thought. The child yawned and rubbed her eyes. She hadn't slept all night waiting for her Mama. "Are you sleepy?" the knight asked. The girl nods and Sir Garreth looks over at Malcom. "How much do I owe you for the honey cakes?" Malcom smiles and shakes his head. "Not a thing. Just happy they made her smile." Sir Garreth extends his hand to the child. "Come, I think I know somewhere you can stay until your Mother comes back." The child took the knight's hand, waved sleepily to Malcom, and followed him out the door and into the early morning sunlight.