Legends of Belariath
Andromeda
Snow fell thick and fast, the ground already a blanket of white under the glow of the two moons. The scene looked pristine, at least from the vantage point of the window. Inside the small cabin where the hearth blazed and the sounds of screams of pain, the world did not seem so pristine. Heavy footsteps passed back and forth across the main room of the cabin, anxious and worried - dreading the moment that door to the bedroom would open. Too soon! It was too soon for the baby to come! And then the screams stopped, only the crackling of the fire heard. His head jerked towards the door, breath suspended as his heart hammered at his ribs. No! He could not lose her!
What seemed hours but was only minutes passed before the door was opened, the midwife standing there holding a tightly wrapped bundle that seemed much too small, her eyes telling him what he refused to believe. “I am sorry Malcolm. I tried everything I could to spare her life but she wouldn’t let me take the child. She insisted on the child surviving.” Blood roared in his ears, eyes unfocused as he turned towards the hearth, eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let go. Not now, not in front of Alise. “Malcolm, the baby. She survived. I am not sure if she will make it through the nigh, but you have a daughter.” The words were low, a quiet plea for him to acknowledge the child his Danae had died to bring into the world.
He turned then, took in the sight of that too small bundle in the midwife’s arms, felt the anger at that child for stealing the woman he loved. Large hands snapped out to take the bundled babe from Alise, the thought half formed in his mind to cast the child into the fire, but his eyes landed on the face of the sleeping newborn. Impossible small, face scrunched up in such a way that was almost comical to look at - and the thought died. His large hands brought the baby close to his body, cradling the bundled form gently as the first of many songs he would sing to the child flowed from his lips.
“Andromeda.” The song paused without warning, brown eyes never leaving the face of the sleeping infant. “Her name is Andromeda Valentina Sybilla Danae” They had not gotten around to choosing a name but he knew his mate would approve of his choice. The brightest star in the winter sky - the star that he wove tales about to win Danae’s hand. The midwife nodded and turned, pleased to see the man bond with his child in that moment, leaving father and daughter to their time.
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The twelve year old sat in stunned silence, the last echoes of her father’s screams dying on the cool night air leaving a deathly silence. Small for her age, Andromeda looked more like a child then a girl about to enter into her teens and ready to take on the world - and sitting there huddled in on herself, pale eyes wide and staring at the corpse of her father, she looked even younger. “Da?” A tentative question asked with a fevered prayer that there would be an answer, tears already filling those slanted eyes. Of course no answer was coming from the man who had raised her. But that did not mean the three that stood in front of the horses pulling the wagon didn’t have something to say.
“Come on lass, get on down from there. You can’t be staying up there.” The eldest had turned his attention towards her by that point and while she could hear him, could see him moving towards the wagon, her eyes remained on the body of her beloved father. The urge to scream welled up in her chest though she knew that it would not be heard by anyone. They had made it too far out of the village for anyone to hear. Softly pointed chin turned sharply then - fixed a hot, hateful glare onto the older man before her feet scrambled to push her small body away from him, towards the far side of the wagon bench.
“Don’t you touch me!” Hysteria was setting in and her words were shrill, body scurrying over the side till her feet touched ground. There was no plan, all she knew was she had to get away - had to get back to the village. Her breaths came quicker, so much so that she was beginning to feel light headed, her body turning to take off back down the old path towards the village, fingers gripping up the long skirt to keep it from tangling around her legs. “Catch her fools! Don’t let her get back there!” Those words reached her ears as she ran, small feet pounding in time with the rapid beat of her heart. Fear choked her and sorrow threatened to suffocate her, tears spilling down pale cheeks. The sounds of shouts and heavy footfalls could be heard behind her, forcing her to push herself harder - adrenaline flooding her veins. Her lungs ached and muscles burned as she changed directions without warning, trying to cut across the open valley in the direction of the closest house, the uneven ground even more treacherous in the moonless night.
She never knew what hit her in the head - she would barely be able to recall the blossom of pain before darkness had enveloped her, dropped her to her knees and finally her side on the hard ground. But when she awoke, she laid in a covered wagon that lurched and bounced, the movement enough to make her sick to her stomach. Her head felt as if the bones were sliding under the skin and each bounce sent new waves of pain that had her retching. “lie still. The pain will pass in a few hours. You are lucky, it should be gone by the time they stop to set up camp.” The voice was feminine and her eyes shifted to try to find the body that went with that voice, finally resting on a young girl sitting near the back of the wagon. “where am I?” Her voice was hoarse, throat dry and scratchy, much like her eyes which could not make out much of where she was laying. “shhh. Do not talk loud. They do not like us to talk. You are with the caravan that came to your village and we are heading to the coast.”
Confusion reigned supreme in that moment, for she could not remember how she had ended up here. “I don’t understand. Why am I here?” Already fear was rising again, her mind struggling to think past the pain to remember what had happened, to piece together what was going on. “girl, they caught you like I was caught. We are going to be sold off to people as slaves.” The lack of emotion in the strange girl’s voice had her staring at her in horror, her mind stunned by those words. Her? A slave?
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“Hurry up lazy bones! The men be hungry!” The words were punctuated with a hard smack to the back of the head, forcing the small body to move more quickly with the bowls full of hot stew, bare feet nearly tripping over one of the hunting dogs as she rushed towards the circle of men. A giggle sounded as she approached, the lopsided grin on her face never wavering despite the twinge of pain that smack had brought. The eyes of the men lifted and stared at her as she passed out the bowls, her expression never changing despite the anger and hate that welled up inside.
“Lookie, it is Rommy, our little clown. Come here when you are done pet.” The voice came from her left and she knew it was Micha, the one who delighted in tormenting her the most and the one that she tried the hardest to avoid. The bowls were passed out quickly and before she could scurry off strong hands gripped her tiny waist and hauled her onto hard muscled thighs, fingers digging into soft skin. Forcing a giggle from her throat, she wiggled as if she was getting comfortable, the sight drawing laughs from the men. “such a shame we can’t sell her isn’t it Micha?” Her eyes remained lowered, staring off as if lost in her own world, a soft hum beginning under her breath. “are you kidding. She might be crazy but I am training her to fill my needs.”
How long had she been here? Six years now. It had not taken her long to grasp the situation she was in and when feigning illness had ceased to work in getting her out of being put to work for the caravan she had found a new strategy. One that would work. She feigned insanity. No one would buy a crazy girl and it had worked. The slavers had no luck in getting anyone interested in her and she had become part of the caravan. Cook, cleaner, tailor, entertainment. Six years of acting the imbecile just to keep from being sold off. Of course, it worked in her favor but the downside was as soon as she had turned eighteen winters, Micha had taken an keen interest in following her around - ordering her to his sleeping wagon. While the others left her alone, he delighted in tormenting her all the more. But it would end soon. They were at the largest costal city now - and people were always milling around. Soon, it would be time to make her escape and find her own way in the world.
Five nights later, she crept from Micha’s sleeping wagon, the night sky devoid of the twin moons covering her movements, and headed out of the camp. While she had tried to find a way to bring what belongings she had, all she had managed to keep with her for the night was her father’s lute. The one thing she had carried with her since the night she had been taken. Her steps were slow and careful till she was passed the sentries that guarded the caravan then picked up pace as she hurried towards the city walls. Freedom! The caravan would be leaving in the morning and while they might put off leaving for a few hours to search for her, she knew they would not waste much time. They followed their schedule closely and all the time forced to sit in Micha’s lap and earned her the knowledge of where they would be going and when.
Reaching the walls, one last glance was given over her shoulder at the distant camp that had been home for so many years, a smirk on her face. She had played the part of insane perfectly. She had escaped. Slipping into the city quietly, she crept through the shadows, avoiding the city guard at every turn till she found the stables attached to one of the inns. It was there, inside the stall of an ornery horse that she hid - hay piled on top of her till the sun rose and fell once more. Till she was sure that the caravan had moved on. Only then - when she was sure she was safe did she crawl out and make her way out from the stables, the first breath of true freedom drawn into her lungs. Now it was time to make her way back to where she had been born.
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A year of traveling has passed and she stood in front of an inn that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, the sign above it reading The Lonely Inn. Well, the name seemed to suggest she would fit in alright. The insanity act that had kept her safe for six years was still used for she had learned quickly that very few wanted to deal with one that was not right in the mind. It provided her protection and most times coin from the few that felt sorry for her.
Taking a deep breath, she forced the lopsided grin onto her lips and walked up the steps to the door. It was time to see if this place might be home.