Something Bigger Part 1

Prologue

PROLOGUE 

        Two young children, one slightly older than the other, sat playing in the dirt just outside a large stable, home to some of the most respected and admired carriage horses in an area more than four counties wide. The sunshine shone warmly on the backs of the children as they chatted in their small voices. They drew in the dark soil, dry and as clean as soil can be, their little fingers circling in the dirt. The girl wiped away the figure the boy'd been drawing. At first he frowned, but then he did the only thing logical to a young boy - he wiped away the girls drawing like she'd done. They both squealed a child's war cry before tackling one another and rolling around in the dirt.  

       It wasn't something most parents would let their little girl do, but this little girl wasn't born of normal parents. Hers were working parents, employees of a Lord who happened to have a son just a little older than the girl. Hers were talented parents who were often busy working together and had little time to teach a girl the things a wife should know. But that didn't matter - hers were parents that provided a warm bed for their daughter and loved her every one of their few shared moments. So as their daughter rolled in the dirt, wrestling with her best friend, hers were the parents that would smile lovingly as they reminded her to try not get too dirty, she only has a few dresses. 

        In fact, it would have been the boy's father that protested the most about his activities. However, it wouldn't have been his rolling in the dirt or playing carelessly that would have displeased the boy's father. Instead, the boy's company would have been the source of controversy. As it was, the boy's father was none other than the Lord Lockwood, the man who employed the girl's parents. You see, it was unacceptable for the child of a the Lockwood to mingle with a child of a lower class, as least in the Lockwood house.  

        But in their secluded corner of sunshine, with only a few busy, uncaring eyes to brush over them, the children were safe in their happiness. They were safe to remain together in their joy. 

        The two children giggled gleefully as they tumbled apart. The little girl stood and ran out into the plush green grass that lined the ground just north of the stable. She smiled as the little boy got up to chase her. Pounding footstep after pounding footstep she ran, further toward the hilly edge of the stable's view. The little boy followed, completely willing to follow his friend until he caught her.  

        Suddenly a little hole caught the edge of the girl's foot and she rushed toward the ground. She hit the ground hard and tears burst forth from her small blue eyes. She held her arm gingerly and frowned up at the boy who'd been chasing her.  

        He knelt beside her and smiled softly, then settled into the spot beside her. He wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug and, when he let go, left an arm across her back like he'd seen her mother do. With his free hand, he wiped away the tears on the girl's cheek with his sleeve.  

        The girl looked over at the boy and smiled behind her tears. She sniffed back a sob and let go of her arm, though she kept it close.  

        The little boy stood and held out his hand to help the little girl up with him. He smiled at her, happy that her tears were disappearing. He nodded toward the stable, ready to go back to their spot in the sun. The girl smiled and together they walked down the hill to the stable, chattering away all the way.  

        Crash!  

        Both children hurried to find the source of the clattering noise that came from around the corner of the stable. They ran to the corner and peeked around to see the commotion forming around a round pen.  

        A glimmering white mare ran straight out of the circle, rope trailing from the halter still clinging to her head. She snored and flung her head, eager to free herself from the thing following her. But it wasn't the way she franticly tried to free herself from the ropes being thrown around her neck to steady her that was conceding. Instead, it was the way the ropes had no effect on her determined gallop away from her captors - a gallop that would take her straight over the patch of dirt the children stood on. 

        Adults ran and shouted, but the two children only froze. They stared at their approaching doom, locked into place by their fear. Suddenly, the girl broke free and ran to hide inside the stable doors, several feet away. She ran as fast as she could, reaching the doors as fast as possible. But the boy remained petrified. If not for the quick thinking of one nearby man, the girl's father, the boy would have been flattened. But even as the boy was saved, the man sealed his own fate. Had the mare run over the boy, she would have been on her way away from the manor. Instead, the man that dashed in front of her had caught her frantic attention. She spun around and, with a mighty snort, rushed at the man.  

        Seconds slowed, but there was no time for the man to fly behind shelter. Long strides took him as far as the other side of a sturdy fence, but it wasn't enough to hide behind. In her craze, the mare cleared the boards. If only the man had stopped and stuck low and close to the fence. If only the man hadn't taken those few steps beyond the fence. If only. But alas, those few steps took the man into the range of the mare's diamond hooves. The same hooves landed square in his chest.  

        There were screams, for sure, but neither the boy, who now stood peeking out the stable's door, or the girl, who huddled in the tack room, knew why. Tears streaked both their faces, but neither knew how often they'd know that sensation over the next few days. People rushed to the bloodstained body just outside the fence, but more to see than to help. A few red-faced individuals supported the women who'd stood inside the circle with the mare. She wasn't conscience, though the only evidence of trauma came from the purple swelling that blossomed from her forehead. The individuals didn't look toward the spectacle just beyond the fence; they only focused on their charge. They set her on a cot just inside the tack room and the small squeal that immediately followed lured the boy toward the small room.  

        There, just beyond the unconscious woman, stood the girl. She looked at her mother, confused, and then looked to the boy in the doorframe. A man as old as the woman started to usher the two children out of the room but after a thought, instead ushered them to the small bench in the corner of the room. He sat them down and sternly told them to stay. The little girl buried her face into the shoulder of the boy, her tears soaking his tunic.  

        But the boy didn't cry, he only watched. He watched as a doctor stepped in, doctor bag in hand, and examined the woman on the cot. The doctor shot sad glances toward the children against the wall, one crying and one watching. He watched as the doctor pulled out a few instruments and looked at the various shades of color that painted the woman's face. He watched as the doctor gave a heavy sigh and covered the woman with a blanket. He watched as the doctor pulled the blanket over the woman's face. He watched as the doctor shot one last glance, nearly tearful, at the two children sitting on the bench.  

        The little boy held his friend as she cried sobs of fear. He listened to the adult who came to take them up to the manor and away from the fear. He kept her close as the adult closed them in his room. He kept her close as he struggled to grasp what had just happened and as he struggled to comfort the one who he sensed had just lost something.  

        Hours went by and, eventually, the children crawled onto the boy's bed and fell asleep, exhausted. It was Lord Lockwood who woke them, a frown plastered on his youthful face. He sat on the edge of the small bed and placed a heavy hand on the children's shoulders to wake them. "Girl," the man struggled against the words that he intended to speak. "Iris, please look at me." 

        The girl rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up, puffy eyes staring into the lord's face. She too frowned, but only from being woken. 

        "Iris, your," he sighed and looked from his son to the girl, "something's happened."