The Race to Freedom

Maria 4

Head throbbing.  A goose neck pounding her head over and over again. They were furious throbs. Blood swirled in her ears like dancing cascades of chaos. Her eyes shifted and a glean of sunlight burst through the slit she had narrowly allowed. She was alive. 

The light tingled her other senses. Gradually the pain and weariness of last night's events traveled like burying snakes through the rest of her body until she was blanketed in aches and sores.

Her head was the worst though. It felt as if a gigantic marble had replaced her regular head, as she desperately tried to push up into a sitting position without her head lolling too far to one side. She needed water so badly. Her ears alerted her to the sound of a lagoon just a few metres away, but pain seemed to cry out a gigantic wall that blocked her mind from sending any blissful self-serving commands. 

She tried to think, but pain blocked any memories or patterns like an all-encompassing canvas, and she was sent crashing to the floor. There was blackness once more.

Later, she resurfaced. Water surrounded her. Somehow, it had traveled to her instead of her travelling to it. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, like a flower drooping in the heat, and drank the sandy tides of water, uncaring of the specks of sand entering her gullet. At least her mouth was working. 

She felt stronger though, her body less achy, and her memories more fluid. Was this the helping hand of God? Did the Almighty Lord and Saviour also save her in this land? She could more easily debate this, a sense of peace sweeping through her and a sense of affirmation covering her body. She remembered the routine at each single day at the crack of dawn and  at the rest of dusk praying to God, asking for guidance, hoping for greater purpose. Perhaps he had answered her prayers, and now was saving her once more. 

Her eyes opened, fully. The light flooded in, but she didn't mind, her eyes were blinking furiously in the light. She certainly felt stronger. The giant marble on her head was still there, but it was manageable, like a musical instrument to be mastered, and she had just harnessed the first set of keys. Sitting slowly up now, her arms stretched out behind her back, she looked to the sky and smiled with blood caked across the side of her face. It had no matter. 

Salvo, she suddenly thought. More of a cry.

He had been taken; kidnapped by what a monstrous thing. She tried to recall what it looked like, but only remembered poor Salvo, slumped unconscious, draped over the creature's back like a rug being taken to market. She felt sad at the thought. 

"Fetch me Sire Ralf, Cecily" she said in delirium, thinking she was back at her favourite table, sewing and crafting a new dress for one of her most prized students. She imagined Cecily, a small blonde haired girl  of some marginally wealthy family from the southwest of the country, scuttering away to request the aid of the bold and the fierce Sire Ralf. He would save Salvo for her. He could save anyone. He once saved her from drowning when she was little more than a girl. 

Immediately she saw the big bushy red face of Sire Ralf in front of her eyes. "My lady Maria, how may I be of service to you?" 

"I require you to save a man" she said, drearily, almost drooling the words. "He's a very big man. He has acres of passion, and whole castles of compassion too. You must help him" she continued drawling on "he's a peculiar fellow I do admit, but sincerely he is one of the most fascinating and caring individuals I have ever met. He was going to help me... he was going to help me survive". 

She saw Sire Ralf chuckle at this. "Ah dear Maria" he smiled. "Why do you request this of me?"

"Because you are a brave strong man. You can slay this evil monster that has captured him, and return him to me".