Winter's Silent Wings - Prologue

"Winter's Silent Wings"

by John Robert Harvey

-- Prologue --

A quick bundle slung upon her back, the woman urged her two daughters to go faster up the wooded hill above their village. Smoke and screams rose as their home was consumed by flame and marauder. Somewhere, back down below, what was left of her husband - and their father - was being trampled into the late autumn snow that dusted the earth.

The woman was bleeding from a wound on her scalp, and her left arm hung twisted and limp at her side. She paused a moment for a quick glance over her shoulder at what was, then moved briskly again onward, pushing her daughters forward, into the forest ahead.

The rains had been fierce that year, and the harvest small, but it would have been enough had not the eastern raiders come. These marauders had shown up in small bands before, but this year there were more. They started by demanding a little, then more and more of the village's meager stores, threatening violence if their demands were not met.

At first - despite objections from a few like herself and her husband - the woman's village had decided to accommodate the marauders, for the sake of peace. When it became apparent that the village was not going to be able to sustain paying this tribute, the elders finally refused the demands, explaining the needs of their own people.

The marauders were not to be dissuaded. They began running off the People's livestock and harassing the wild game on their hunting grounds. Huntsmen and herdsmen were harried and the brigands scattered the gatherers of the village. A herdsman was killed one day - a young boy. The village rose to arms, to drive off the parasites, but their force was too small and the season too late; they were soon overwhelmed.

After today, little would remain of the People of the Green Meadows - save perhaps a few slaves and a little loot for the predators that walked upright...

And maybe, just maybe, two little girls and their memories of what was. Their mother urged them on, faster.

She would try to make that happen, to preserve what they had once been and who these precious ones were. She would save these Two Bright Girls, and by doing so, save her people, save herself, and save all who were lost. Faster, she pushed them, faster they must go!

The mother was very tired - the blood loss made her weak and the blow to her head made her unsteady. Her useless, aching arm throbbed with excruciating pain, leaving her blurry of thought and sight. Her heart pounded with fear and exertion.

Deeper into the woods, she thought, follow the streams. She pushed her young girls as fast as they could go, stumbling and slipping over the uneven ground. Her pain was worse with every step, and the little girls were quietly crying. They were exhausted and frightened, aware that something terrible was happening, but doing their best for their beloved mother.

She quieted them every time they tried to ask a question, and pushed them onward. The light began to fail fast, and with it her energy. As they came to another stream, she paused their flight.

From her sad little bundle, she produced a bit of bread and split it between the two shivering and distraught children. They collapsed onto the cold ground. The mother took a wool blanket from the bundle and wrapped it around the younger daughter, clumsily using one of her own cloak's brooches to fasten it about her shoulders. The woman then took her own cloak off and tugged it around the older daughter, tying it quickly with her remaining good hand, gripping the other end of the tie in her teeth.

In the distance, the mother heard a sound that chilled her weary bones: dogs. Then, shouts. She heard branches snapping and the hoofbeats of horses. Her shaking heart filled with terrible fear as her tragic eyes filled with tears unrestrained. With all her might she gathered her daughters into an embrace, hugging them with all the love she had; the moment was brief but would have to last forever. She stood them up from where they sat and hurriedly pushed them across the creek.

"Go! Follow the Moon to the sea, and the Star over the mountain, follow the setting Sun. I will find you! GO! I love you, dear ones. Take care of each other. GO!!!" She firmly but near silently urged them on their way, holding back the quavering of her voice and the waves of sorrow in her soul. She shoved the remaining pitiful bundle she had hurriedly made when fleeing the village into the hands of the elder girl. They looked each other in the eyes for a moment. The mother smiled faintly, squeezing her daughter's hand, "Go."

The elder sister grabbed her little sister's hand and dragged her forward, splashing through the icy stream and into the woods beyond. The younger sister in fear and confusion began to cry harder and harder, reaching for her mother. Her sister pulled her onward.

The mother watched just long enough in the rapidly waning twilight to see her dear ones slip into the woods beyond the stream. She then turned, dizzy with grief and fatigue. With all the love and loss in her heart, she began to run toward the low men that pursued them with all the speed and strength she could muster.

She ran with fury, with the pain felt only by those who love with all their being. As she dashed though the trees, her good hand reached down and grasped a stout branch, an oaken cudgel. Around the rocks she ran, leaping frigid streams, and ducking around bramble and stump.

Feet and heart pounding upon frozen loss and crystal snow, the woman took flight towards her fate, until her lost hopes and dreams were as full as echoes in the forest.

Deep inside her a grief-stricken wail flickered as a dying flame given sudden life, growing into a raging scream, a scream with a ferocity of a tremendous forest fire. Her voice raised higher and louder until it seemed to shake the few remaining autumn leaves from the trees.

This scream became all she was now: that moment. She screamed for her People, she screamed for her Family, for her Daughters, for Herself. She was One, now, and all alone; all that was behind, all that was there now, all that ever would have been. In that dark and cold forest - as her end galloped towards her - her anguished scream became destiny's roar.

-- End of Prologue --