Attaly found the man lying passed out on the ground. She called for help
from her brothers. Cal and Griffith picked the man up and carried him
toward their house. They brought him inside, where their father examined
him.
"Looks as if he has only a couple of scratches and bruises, but not much more. He does, however, look quite hungry. Attaly, bring food. Cal, bring water. Griffith, take a cloth and dip it in cold water, then bring it here."
The children did as they were told, and rushed back. Their father, Cadafan, dabbed the man's cuts with the cloth, and set the bowl of fruit on the side table. He set the bowl of water next to it.
"Well, that's all we can do for him now. He will come around in his own time."
"But Father," said Attaly. "What if he doesn't? What if he doesn't come around? What if-"
"Daughter, he will be fine. He probably just passed out from lack of food. And he only has a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious. Now, you and your brothers must go out and fetch firewood as you were told."
"Yes Father." Said the three.
Attaly walked outside, gathering firewood as she walked. She made her way over toward her eldest brother, Griffith.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Think about what?" he grunted as he hefted a large piece of wood over his shoulder.
"About that man!"
"Oh. I think that you should stop worrying about him and take this wood."
Attaly frowned, but took the wood. She soon started talking again.
"But what could have happened to him?"
"Attaly, you are to young to ask such questions! You are only fourteen!"
Attaly gave a small, "Humph," and walked off. True, she was only fourteen, but she was quite smart, unusual for a simple country girl, a peasant. Her brothers had thought to become warriors; at least, Griffith aimed to. Cal wanted to be a great sorcerer, a slayer of dragons. Attaly wanted to be nothing. She wanted only to stay home and help take care of her father, but he forbade it. They needed the money heroes earned. Attaly assumed that she would become a healer, a boring role, if she did say so herself. All they did was heal. Of course, healing was important, but they seldom ever fought, unless someone was attacking their home. Attaly wanted to fight, if she must become a hero of any kind. She thought on becoming a paladin, but that meant that she could only serve one god, and she may never marry. Besides, they always seemed to end up haughty. Attaly supposed that she could become a priestess, but the thought of being "Miss Death" didn't seem quite appealing to her. Perhaps…perhaps she could get a job in the palace! After all, they did take servant girls into the palace for cooking, cleaning, and all manner of things! Though she didn't really like to think what those other things could be. Perhaps she could be a cook; her kitchen skills weren't bad, but she was sure that their king would have the best in all of Ardania. She could clean there, tend the fires or something like that, but she never was quite willing to do chores…well, she couldn't see what she could do in the palace. There truly wasn't much she could do there. Perhaps…perhaps there would be something for her to do there when she was older. Perhaps cleaning and tending fires would be more appealing to her then, than it is now.
"Watch out!" came a voice. Attaly had been walking, not watching where she was going. She looked down, and nearly fell. She was at the edge of a small canyon. There was a large river at the bottom.
"Look out!" came the voice again. She was startled, and turned around too fast. She lost her footing and fell, landing in the river. She flailed for a moment, before falling under the rushing currents.
"Help!" she cried. The river was quickly rushing her downstream, toward the village and the palace. She cried for help again, and heard running feet above her, where the edge of the land was, and tried to look up. Above her she saw a stumbling man, as if he were trying to run, but something was holding him back.
"Help me!" she yelled again.
"I'm - trying!" yelled the man brokenly. Attaly realized that the man above her was the man she had found. She was too scared at being dragged under the water to realize that he should still be in bed.
As she was pulled along, she saw the palace rise in front of her, it's turrets and towers gleaming. She was being pulled under more often now than before as the waters rushed faster, zooming toward the palace aqueducts. The rushing river flowed through the city. As the waters carried her into the city, she yelled louder for help. Just as she thought that she would be lost in the waters, a hand grabbed her. She was pulled out of the waters by strong, jeweled hands. She was hauled out of the water, onto the ground. She saw watery visions of a tall man bending over her, before she closed her eyes in a dead faint.
"Looks as if he has only a couple of scratches and bruises, but not much more. He does, however, look quite hungry. Attaly, bring food. Cal, bring water. Griffith, take a cloth and dip it in cold water, then bring it here."
The children did as they were told, and rushed back. Their father, Cadafan, dabbed the man's cuts with the cloth, and set the bowl of fruit on the side table. He set the bowl of water next to it.
"Well, that's all we can do for him now. He will come around in his own time."
"But Father," said Attaly. "What if he doesn't? What if he doesn't come around? What if-"
"Daughter, he will be fine. He probably just passed out from lack of food. And he only has a few cuts and bruises, nothing serious. Now, you and your brothers must go out and fetch firewood as you were told."
"Yes Father." Said the three.
Attaly walked outside, gathering firewood as she walked. She made her way over toward her eldest brother, Griffith.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"Think about what?" he grunted as he hefted a large piece of wood over his shoulder.
"About that man!"
"Oh. I think that you should stop worrying about him and take this wood."
Attaly frowned, but took the wood. She soon started talking again.
"But what could have happened to him?"
"Attaly, you are to young to ask such questions! You are only fourteen!"
Attaly gave a small, "Humph," and walked off. True, she was only fourteen, but she was quite smart, unusual for a simple country girl, a peasant. Her brothers had thought to become warriors; at least, Griffith aimed to. Cal wanted to be a great sorcerer, a slayer of dragons. Attaly wanted to be nothing. She wanted only to stay home and help take care of her father, but he forbade it. They needed the money heroes earned. Attaly assumed that she would become a healer, a boring role, if she did say so herself. All they did was heal. Of course, healing was important, but they seldom ever fought, unless someone was attacking their home. Attaly wanted to fight, if she must become a hero of any kind. She thought on becoming a paladin, but that meant that she could only serve one god, and she may never marry. Besides, they always seemed to end up haughty. Attaly supposed that she could become a priestess, but the thought of being "Miss Death" didn't seem quite appealing to her. Perhaps…perhaps she could get a job in the palace! After all, they did take servant girls into the palace for cooking, cleaning, and all manner of things! Though she didn't really like to think what those other things could be. Perhaps she could be a cook; her kitchen skills weren't bad, but she was sure that their king would have the best in all of Ardania. She could clean there, tend the fires or something like that, but she never was quite willing to do chores…well, she couldn't see what she could do in the palace. There truly wasn't much she could do there. Perhaps…perhaps there would be something for her to do there when she was older. Perhaps cleaning and tending fires would be more appealing to her then, than it is now.
"Watch out!" came a voice. Attaly had been walking, not watching where she was going. She looked down, and nearly fell. She was at the edge of a small canyon. There was a large river at the bottom.
"Look out!" came the voice again. She was startled, and turned around too fast. She lost her footing and fell, landing in the river. She flailed for a moment, before falling under the rushing currents.
"Help!" she cried. The river was quickly rushing her downstream, toward the village and the palace. She cried for help again, and heard running feet above her, where the edge of the land was, and tried to look up. Above her she saw a stumbling man, as if he were trying to run, but something was holding him back.
"Help me!" she yelled again.
"I'm - trying!" yelled the man brokenly. Attaly realized that the man above her was the man she had found. She was too scared at being dragged under the water to realize that he should still be in bed.
As she was pulled along, she saw the palace rise in front of her, it's turrets and towers gleaming. She was being pulled under more often now than before as the waters rushed faster, zooming toward the palace aqueducts. The rushing river flowed through the city. As the waters carried her into the city, she yelled louder for help. Just as she thought that she would be lost in the waters, a hand grabbed her. She was pulled out of the waters by strong, jeweled hands. She was hauled out of the water, onto the ground. She saw watery visions of a tall man bending over her, before she closed her eyes in a dead faint.