Excerpt from Chapter 1:

His head was aching, his body oddly numb. Darkness behind his eyelids, he couldn’t even remember who he was…
“…hem? Brohem?! Wake up! Brohem!”
His eyes shot open, pain spasmed through his torso and limbs. A woman, seemingly around eighteen years, was crouched over him, long, dark hair spilling over his chest. Her deep green eyes were filled with tears and worry. Her high cheek bones, sharp, delicate chin, her heart shaped face, seemed familiar, but he couldn’t match face with name… nor relation.
“Brohem?” She seemed more than a little relieved.

Wait… That’s my name, isn’t it?

Brohem fought to think through the pain.

Do I know this woman?

Brohem was nearly thrown back into the darkness as he tried to sit up, and a grimace of agony spread across his face. The woman gave him a look of distress and pushed him back into the hard, frost laden earth.
“Please, don’t move. You are injured extensively. Please, stay here while I run back to the house and gather help.” She gave him a reassuring smile that seemed more for herself than him and pressed her full lips o his forehead. Slowly, she picked herself up and laid her cloak over his numbing body. With another smile, she departed, too small patched dress pulling at her curves.
An odd sensation bloomed inside him as he watched her. Warm and regretful, and something he couldn’t decipher.
The feeling dissipated as his minds eye exploded into a world of color. His vision blurred, images marred by the scenes behind his lids. Blood, so much blood! Pain, searing through his head and body. Teeth, filling a large jaw, claws, wet with the red liquid that was his lifeblood. Huge muscles rippling as it wound itself up for the pounce, the kill…
“Brohem, are you alright?” her soft, sweet voice broke through the suffering. He was breathing hard, adrenaline pulsing through his veins, and he found himself propped in a sitting position against her. Staring up at her with wide, fearful eyes. Tears blurred his vision and he buried his face in the fabric of her peasant’s gown. Her eyes widened but he felt her slender, strong arms wrap around his huddled mass nonetheless. Quietly, without another word, she pulled him to his feet, catching him as his legs nearly fell out from under him.
A horse, large and built for work not pleasure, stood waiting, low cart strapped to its harness. The woman must have understood his puzzled expression, for she explained, “The neighboring farm couldn’t spare the men, but they lent me their horse. The cart they lent me in exchange for part of our supply of meat from your hunting. I’m sorry; it’s all I could do.”
Giving another small, regretful smile, she jumped up to the cart and pulled him up beside her. Situating him on a pile of straw, burying him in a few blankets, she hopped from cart to horse in one graceful leap, long legs settling comfortably around its bare back.

Impressum

Texte: All characters and places are works of fiction and belong to the author.
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.12.2010

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Widmung:
To all who read this. The story hit me hard for some reason, and its hard for me to write in the style (third person), so it might change.