The Fathers by M C Chamberlain

Author:M C Chamberlain [Chamberlain, M C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780578495804
Publisher: Happy Dog Publishing LLC
Published: 2019-05-19T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rheanna’s heart sagged. The rain had lifted a while back, yet she still felt the dampness in her bones. The gray mist mostly retreated, and the clouds fled the sky, leaving behind the late day royal blue, one of her favorite colors. Still, she struggled to find a smile.

The forest grew higher and thicker. Soon her eyes could not peer into the edge much more than a meter. Thick bushes lined the edges, some with hanging arms and sharp thorns to nip at her bare feet. Her boots hung on the side of Maralade. She never liked boots or shoes anyway, always going barefoot, enjoying the sensation of ground, especially grass. That tickled her toes when she was young. She so wished she could be the young girl from so long ago, under the watchful eye of Gunnar.

Giant branches hung low, decorated with many leaves, some the darkest green she had ever seen and some tinged edges of orange with late-season dark time chill. A few had large light to chocolate brown nuts that fell from time to time as she passed underneath, one managing to pop her hooded head, causing a minor lump. It made her mad. Anger swelled up. She wanted to go back and smash the unfortunate innocent nut. Anger was an emotion she rarely had. The thought of anger led bruised feelings to hate. For the first time her heart could recall, she hated, and that hate was focused on the tree that dared to allow a simple nut to fall on her, the princes’ royal head.

Suddenly, her heart went from the calm day to day rhythm to the sound of field drums to advance the battle line. The thumping took her breath away. The ground seemed to roll around and up and down. The sounds of the forest screamed in her ears.

“Maralade,” Her voice choked as if someone with strong hands instantly squeezed her throat.

Maralade sensed her masters panic. She did not know what to do. So far from her calm, safe stable with fresh food, water, and warm hands to pet her. She didn’t want to panic. A soft, scared whinny escaped from curved thick lips.

Rheanna closed her eyes tight. Anything other than darkness was too harsh for her eyes. She held the reins tight, her hands now shaking with fear. A weight fell on her shoulders like when little children stood on her in playtime at the schools she visited. The pressure grew and grew until she could no longer hold herself up, slowly slipped off Maralade, her hands to weak to hold the reins, legs too wobbly to catch the fall. Her body did not register the thud of the solid ground. Breathing became painful. Almost unbearable. She wanted to scream, but couldn't draw enough air. Blood filled her face, her nose tricking blood. Heartbeat went from a sharp ear filling thumping rhythm to a broken drum, missing randomly, then racing like a wild Seabra. Her head hurt from eyes to ears to her slender neck.

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