GCSE English Narrative

Fog shrouded the steep cliff edges from view; covering the hidden valley in a suffocating blanket of mist, the roaring wind pulling wisps of the water vapour with it as it soared through the deep velvet sky overhead, sequinned with millions of glimmering stars and small droplets of rain that fell needlessly onto the already drench, slick ground.

A small hooded figure nestled further into her deep purple cloak as she galloped her willing horse along the treacherous cliff edge, the bitter wind nipping at her exposed nose and hands, whilst she desperately raced to escape from the looming shadow of the vast castle, and whoever that brought with it. The slight grey mare charged along, mud flying from under her powerful hooves as she stretched her strides further, adrenaline pumping through her blood as she flew along, skilfully navigating the twisting, narrow cliff path through the all-consuming fog.

From behind them, through the howling wind, came the unmistakable drum of hoofbeats and shout of a man, as a black stallion and his burly rider appeared from round the cliffside's corner, stampeding towards them, gaining quickly on the swift grey mare. The hooded rider urged her small mare on, her cloak billowing out behind her like a cape as she begged her horse for more with aching legs and numb hands, the desperation in her actions becoming more obvious as the midnight black stallion effortlessly gained on them, and her mare began to tire from the relentless gallop; nostrils flaring with every laboured breath, sending spittle flying backwards with the ruthless wind. Sweat drenched her pearlescent coat, evaporating into the moist air around them as fast as it was being produced.

Rain fell in heavy, fat droplets around the two riders, adding yet another obstacle to their already perilous route. It was a game of cat and mouse between the two, illuminated by the foreboding full moon as it arose from behind one of the many formidable mountains surrounding the eerie valley.

"Just give up!" came a deep rumbling voice from the back of the intimidating stallion, 'I will always win" it growled, the sound powering through the deafening din of the wind and the rain making it to the girls ears, where she chose to ignore his unsuccessful attempt to distress her.

Abruptly, and without warning the cliff path suddenly ended, clearly having fallen away recently due to the powerful storm. The girls horse skidded to a stop, hooves rooted into the mud as her hind legs slipped underneath her, and she lost her balance falling to ground, tossing her rider like a rag doll through the air. The girl let out a startled scream as she was catapulted from her saddle, her body hitting the ground hard and skidding into a jagged boulder, the sharp rock slicing through her cloak like a knife through butter, ripping remorselessly at her frozen skin, the cold numbing the pain of the rough cuts and grazes.

Heavy hoofbeats signalled the arrival of the second rider, as he pulled his fatigued mount up and dismounted. Eyes squeezed tightly close, the girl heard his approaching footfall from her position on the ground, over the barbaric noise of the wind that tore at her ruined cloak, and un-hooded head, pulling eagerly at both the muddy fabric of the cloak and her long golden hair, which was now knotted with silt and rain. As she waited for the inevitable, the raucous sound of the wind fighting its way through the craggy rocks in the valley below filled her mind, its harsh melody over powering every other sense.

"I've got you now" whispered the man, more to himself then anybody else, a malicious smirk covering his face. He had been waiting years for this moment, to finally be free of the repulsive brat that had been handed on a plate what he had been working for his whole life; it was time to retrieve what was rightfully his.

Without a second thought the man raised his weapon to the girl.

The sickening sound of bones cracking and an animalistic shriek filled air.

Then silence.

The girl lay rigid on the ground, rain pouring down onto her body as she dare not move a muscle. Waiting for the crushing pain. When it didn't come she cautiously peeled open her eyes, unsure as to whether she was dead.

Laying next to her on the ground was the body of the man, unconscious, or dead; she couldn't tell. A clear horse shoe shaped bruise emerging on this forehead. Confused she lifted her tender head from the muddy ground, eyes coming into contact with her best friend. The little grey mare stood above the girl, her eyes wide, and flanks shaking, with a few small scratches littering her coat from the fall, but fortunately all in one piece.

Slowly the girl gripped her horses mane, pulling herself onto her shaking legs, and leaning on her horse as the two began their sluggish walk back to the castle.

"I will always win"

The mans voice echo through the girls head.

How wrong he was.