"Father, why is Rosy sad?"
"What makes you say she's sad?" The girl's father asked.
She sighed, thinking of how she should answer. "Well, her gait isn't as lively. Her ears are pointing out, like this." The young girl put her hands to the side of her head, pointing outward and drooping, in imitation.
Her father laughed. "She's ok, just relaxed."
His daughter wasn't satisfied, yet all she did was shrug it off. She patted the sunset-colored horse standing next to her, just inside a wide pasture. She turned to her father, met his eyes, and decided that she was just being over-protective of the horse she'd known all her life-and her unborn foal.
When it got late enough, they got a lead rope from the rail and led the horse out of the grassy pasture. During the walk home, the girl insisted upon staying with the mare, who had become very jumpy once out of the rolling field, until she calmed down. But the horse never did. At midnight, her father had to come to the stable and manually drag her back up to the Palace.
She had a troubled look on her face as her father tucked her in, but he seemed not to notice.
"There is something wrong with Rosy!" she stated, close to yelling in her frustration.
"Shh, it's ok. Your horse is fine. Go to sleep, now."
She dropped into a fitful sleep. Her father, on the bed across the room, didn't wake to her mumblings.
She sat up, now fully awake. "Father!" she hissed, getting up and putting a robe on. It hadn't even been five hours since she had last been out.
He woke almost instantly. "What is it-get back in bed! Where do you think you are going?"
"It's Rosy! I know it is!" She was running now, down five steps at a time. She ran down two flights of stairs. She slid down the railing of the third, landing softly and not breaking her stride. She ran to the barn, flinging open the door. Lights were on in every room of the Palace, now. Even the slaves had awakened.
She froze at the sight before her.
Rosy lay, dead, in the straw of her stall.
A gray bundle lay next to her, making soft, muffled sounds.
"Father!" She cried. He dropped to her knees, tears over-taking her small body. She hugged the foal, vowing never to let it out of her sight.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was two weeks later. The girl kneeled beside her father's mat in the Healer's room. She prayed to Ra, the only symbol of high power she knew of.
'Oh, Please! You took Mother long ago. You took Rosy this night two weeks past. Please leave Father; he's all I have left! I can't rule by myself! I don't know how!'
Tears rolled down her cheeks, flowing freely. He father did not stir. She felt an unbearable ache in her heart and knew it was too late. Not even Stormy, who stood just behind her, could comfort her now. She hoped against hope that-somehow-her father would rise again.
He wouldn't.
And she knew that.
Someone stepped from the shadows of the Healer's tent and placed a rope around Stormy's neck. A hand covered the girl's mouth as she was pulled away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Father!" Clair wailed into the night. She shook her head. Not just another nightmare, her real past this time.
"What's up, 17?" A boy, about her age, with long, blonde bangs in the way of his soft brown eyes asked from the cot next to the one Clair was lying on.
She hated it when he used her number. They'd grown up together. She didn't see any reason in using numbers for names, unless Master was around. He probably figured Master was listening in on them right now. Numbers kept her name-at least, what she called herself- secret from her Master.
She hated the fact she was now a slave instead of a Princess of somewhere. She didn't remember where she was from, but she didn't really are. It didn't matter.
"Nothin'. Same old nightmares." 'One that happened 10 years ago!' she almost added, bitterly.
Stormy, the colt that survived, whinnied from outside. Clair was reminded of how surprised she was that her Masters had allowed her to keep the high- strung horse.
She relaxed when she heard 15's-Joey-regular breathing once again, telling her he'd gone back to sleep.
'Sales tomorrow,' she reminded herself. 'Got to get rest.so I can get.new, better Master.' She was asleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------
"What makes you say she's sad?" The girl's father asked.
She sighed, thinking of how she should answer. "Well, her gait isn't as lively. Her ears are pointing out, like this." The young girl put her hands to the side of her head, pointing outward and drooping, in imitation.
Her father laughed. "She's ok, just relaxed."
His daughter wasn't satisfied, yet all she did was shrug it off. She patted the sunset-colored horse standing next to her, just inside a wide pasture. She turned to her father, met his eyes, and decided that she was just being over-protective of the horse she'd known all her life-and her unborn foal.
When it got late enough, they got a lead rope from the rail and led the horse out of the grassy pasture. During the walk home, the girl insisted upon staying with the mare, who had become very jumpy once out of the rolling field, until she calmed down. But the horse never did. At midnight, her father had to come to the stable and manually drag her back up to the Palace.
She had a troubled look on her face as her father tucked her in, but he seemed not to notice.
"There is something wrong with Rosy!" she stated, close to yelling in her frustration.
"Shh, it's ok. Your horse is fine. Go to sleep, now."
She dropped into a fitful sleep. Her father, on the bed across the room, didn't wake to her mumblings.
She sat up, now fully awake. "Father!" she hissed, getting up and putting a robe on. It hadn't even been five hours since she had last been out.
He woke almost instantly. "What is it-get back in bed! Where do you think you are going?"
"It's Rosy! I know it is!" She was running now, down five steps at a time. She ran down two flights of stairs. She slid down the railing of the third, landing softly and not breaking her stride. She ran to the barn, flinging open the door. Lights were on in every room of the Palace, now. Even the slaves had awakened.
She froze at the sight before her.
Rosy lay, dead, in the straw of her stall.
A gray bundle lay next to her, making soft, muffled sounds.
"Father!" She cried. He dropped to her knees, tears over-taking her small body. She hugged the foal, vowing never to let it out of her sight.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was two weeks later. The girl kneeled beside her father's mat in the Healer's room. She prayed to Ra, the only symbol of high power she knew of.
'Oh, Please! You took Mother long ago. You took Rosy this night two weeks past. Please leave Father; he's all I have left! I can't rule by myself! I don't know how!'
Tears rolled down her cheeks, flowing freely. He father did not stir. She felt an unbearable ache in her heart and knew it was too late. Not even Stormy, who stood just behind her, could comfort her now. She hoped against hope that-somehow-her father would rise again.
He wouldn't.
And she knew that.
Someone stepped from the shadows of the Healer's tent and placed a rope around Stormy's neck. A hand covered the girl's mouth as she was pulled away.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"Father!" Clair wailed into the night. She shook her head. Not just another nightmare, her real past this time.
"What's up, 17?" A boy, about her age, with long, blonde bangs in the way of his soft brown eyes asked from the cot next to the one Clair was lying on.
She hated it when he used her number. They'd grown up together. She didn't see any reason in using numbers for names, unless Master was around. He probably figured Master was listening in on them right now. Numbers kept her name-at least, what she called herself- secret from her Master.
She hated the fact she was now a slave instead of a Princess of somewhere. She didn't remember where she was from, but she didn't really are. It didn't matter.
"Nothin'. Same old nightmares." 'One that happened 10 years ago!' she almost added, bitterly.
Stormy, the colt that survived, whinnied from outside. Clair was reminded of how surprised she was that her Masters had allowed her to keep the high- strung horse.
She relaxed when she heard 15's-Joey-regular breathing once again, telling her he'd gone back to sleep.
'Sales tomorrow,' she reminded herself. 'Got to get rest.so I can get.new, better Master.' She was asleep.
--------------------------------------------------------------
