A Fantasy Story

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Elendil

Elendil

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Prologue
The rider was struggling for breath, the blood was still flowing from his chest, and he knew he was dying. His horse was tired too, so tired it could hardly walk, let alone run. Finally it stopped, and lay down, and the rider knew neither he, nor the horse had the strength to go on.
A light glowed from a little cottage up ahead, and a dog began to bark, furiously. The rider half dismounted, half fell from his horse, clutching the bundle he was carrying even tighter against his wounded chest. He took one or two shaky steps before falling over, altogether.
He saw someone come out of the house, and tried to crawl toward them, but he couldn't, so he tried call, the person heard him. And hurried over. "Sweet Mother!" He cried in horror seeing the young man, drenched in blood. He knelt beside him.
"Please..." The man whispered, holding out the bundle, "Please take him."
The man gingerly took the bundle which let out the wail of a young baby. "Is this your child?" The man asked, leaning closer to the man.
"No..." his voice was little more than a whisper. "It is a boy...his name is..." The man gasped for breath, "Leif...please look after him...You may have the horse...as...as...a kind of payment..." He struggled to go on, it was clear what he was saying was important. "His parents are dead..." He tried to sit up, but couldn't. "The things on my person...and...in the horse's saddle bags...would you keep them for him?"
"Yes...yes of course..."
The young man nodded, and closed his eyes, as if going to sleep. He never moved again.
 
Chapter One
25 years on...
Gratima ran her wrinkled fingers along the soft green material the dyer had laid out in front of her. It would be perfect for the gown...but it cost to much, a lot to much. She looked over at her granddaughter Freudian, she was gazing at a bolt of rich blue material, soft and silky, and such a blue! To Gratima it looked almost purple. "Such a colour..." Freudian whispered, "so beautiful..."
"It costs a pretty penny though!" The dyer laughed.
"Yes..." Freudian couldn't resist touching it one last time, "So pretty..."
"I hear..." The dyer winked at Freudian, "there's soon to be a celebration, I wonder who the lucky man could be!"
Freudian paled, thinking of all the men in her village who didn't have a wife, and that she might have to marry anyone of them. She might have to marry someone old, or a drunkard. She realized with a start that the tailor wasn't married either. She looked at him, suddenly frightened of the big man.
He must have seen it in her eyes, because he laughed. "It won't be me if that's what you're thinking!"
"I...didn't think it would have been..." Freudian turned her attention back to the rolls of cloth.
 
The dyer nodded, "Knowing your family..." He looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then continued. "I could show you what is shall we say...in your price range?"
"Yes, yes, of course yes!" Gratima nodded and hurried over to where her granddaughter and the dyer stood. "It is for a celebration! It must be pretty! But such weather! Oi! It must be thick and warm!"
"Of course, " The dyer took out a roll of thick material. Gratima ran her old fingers over it. Freudian looked at the colour, it was a light gray, certainly not what she had pictured herself wearing for such a celebration.
"The material is good!" Declared Gratima, "But have you any other colours?"
"Black?" The dyer asked, setting small pieces of material out as he spoke the colours. "Brown?" Freudian looked at the rich brown, it was almost red, and rather pretty...perhaps that would do... "Or green?" The green looked almost gray, like a sick plant, Freudian thought, she would not wear it.
"The green is good!" Gratima held the small square against Freudian's chest. "We shall have the green."
"Err..." The dyer looked at the horrified expression on Freudian's face, "I have one other piece of material, just enough for a dress...I made a small mistake in the dye so it did not come out quiet the way it should have, and my client didn't like it. I could give it to you cheap... Perhaps...Three gold coins?" So saying he took out the material.
Freudian touched it in delight, "It's velvet!" She exclaimed. "Oh Grandmother please!?!"
Gratima looked at the beautiful material, it was mostly of a rich green, and had the look of marble.
"It is a lot of money..." She smiled, "We will have it."

Freudian could not help thinking who it was she could be marrying. The butcher? No, impossible! She had been betrothed at birth, and he had still had a wife back then. Her Grandmother had arranged her marriage, after all, she was the village match-maker.
Freudian looked over at Gratima's huddled frame, wrapped in a black shawl. How many marriages had she arranged? Oh course they were always made with the best intentions, but sometimes... Freudian didn't want to think about it. Her cousin, had, had her "Meeting" celebration last year, she had only been thirteen at the time. She'd found out that she was to marry Surex, the village baker. Yes, Freudian had to admit it was a good match, Surex had a good home, and plenty of money to keep her cousin happy. But Surex had been married once already, and his daughter was only three years younger than Haran, her cousin, Surex himself was thirty-three. How old would her husband-to-be, be? Not over thirty, she hoped.
 
Leif moved quickly, bringing the hammer down on the red hot horse's shoe again and again, until he was sure it was perfect. But his mind wasn't on his work, it was on the girl he would met in a week, the girl, who in one year, was to become his wife.
He didn't look up as his younger brother entered the workshop. "Leif!"
"What?" Leif stopped hammering for a moment.
"Father wants you...I don't know what for."
Leif sighed, and put down his hammer, then he took off his leather, work apron and followed Sherdac into the house.
His father was sitting up in bed, looking better than he had for days. He'd been sick over the last two months, and it had only got worse with the cold weather. He was almost seventy, and Sherdac and Leif knew that their father probably wouldn't be with them much longer.
"Leif..." The old man smiled, "There are some things I must set strait before I die."
"You're not going to die, father." Said Sherdac, "Not for a long time yet."
"Sherdac is right you know," Leif loved his father dearly. "You will live for many years yet."
The old man smiled, "Perhaps...if God wills..." He sighed, "But if I do not get well again, there are some things you must know, Leif." The old man turned to Sherdac, "Son, go to the storehouse, under the tenth floor board, you will find a bundle, bring it here, please." Sherdac nodded and left, then the old man turned back to Leif. "You know I'm not your real father..."
"Yes..." Leif nodded, he had always known this.
"Well, when I was given you, to take care of, you were only just born, the man who gave you me, said he wasn't your father...but..." He shrugged, "Perhaps he was... Anyway, this man, he left some things for you."
"What things?" Leif could hardly conceal his excitement. Could these things tell him who his true father was?
 
Heres the rest (lol!) :

"A sword..." The old man thought for a moment. "I believe there is some money... But to be honest, I don't really know. Because it was for you, I didn't look at it."
 
Hehe Thanks for the extra tibit of information! :p Now I know he's got a sword.... One question... I thought that the girl (gosh can I ever remember her name?!) was getting married like soon. But Leif says he's "meeting" the girl he will marry. What's going on? Did I misread something?

With Love!
~Chloe
 
Elindil said:
... Freudian didn't want to think about it. Her cousin, had, had her "Meeting" celebration last year, she had only been thirteen at the time.
Click to expand...

;) meeting celebration hun! :D
 
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