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Date Posted: 22:32:52 11/23/99 Tue
Author: Lady D
Subject: Arelle's Rout

Aerell's Rout

The amount of time that has passed is unknown to Arelle when she awakes this morn before the dawn. It is dark in the room, the moon's light beaming through the window is the only illumination. She struggles to sit up in her bed, still ailing from the wounds she had all over her body and from her fruitless birthing. She rises slowly and manages to dress herself. Still unsteady, she walks across the room to her vanity in front of the window, she glances out at the darkness, hearing the wind rustle through the leaves outside.

Placing both hands upon the dressing table, she eases herself to the chair. Still dizzy from the drugs her father had given her, she knocks some bottles over unaware they had fallen to the floor. Her head hangs down as she tries to collect herself. Looking up she is startled to see her own reflection staring blankly back at her. The moon's light cast an eerie glow, making her look like a corpse. She pulls closer to the mirror, moving her head from side to side examining the injuries she sustained for the first time. Above her right eye is a large gash, that same eye is circled in blue and green. There is much swelling on her left cheek, from a deep bruise. She turns from the mirror and takes a scarf from her top drawer, never looking back up.

She pulls on her boots and her wrap and heads toward the hallway. She walks passed her parent's room. Hearing the soft sounds of sleep coming from their bedroom, she continues out to front door. The night is cold and she pulls her wrap tightly around her. She stops to look up at the sky and staring at the moon briefly before walking to the stable. Her father's horse, Max neighed and snorts at the first sight of her, as if he were welcoming her. She leads him out of his stall while petting his nose and talking to him gently. She steps up on a haystack and climbs painfully upon his bare back. Adjusting herself she half lies, half sits on him. She places her arms around his warm neck and whispers in his ear, "Come on Max, let's go." She clutches his mane gives a sight tug to the right and he begins to trot in the direction of the forest.

Her memory starts to focus on the past days of her father’s words and her blurry independent memory. Her father explained that she had been beaten and given birth in the forest. That she had come upon Sir Fyale in the forest battered and covered in blood. Also he was the man whom buried her baby in the wood. He said that Fyale was pale and appeared to be shaken by the ordeal when he delivered her to her parents. Papa said too, that Fyale seemed unaware that he had taken her to my own parent’s house, for Fyale gave papa 5 pieces of silver to care for her. Papa tried to explain, but said he left before he could. Sir Fyale had saved her life.

The sun begins to peek through the pine, she squints her eyes turning her head to the west. Finding the place where the assault had occurred, she steers Max into the wood. She looked about the forest floor, searching for baby Belamore's grave. Finally she comes upon a mound of what seemed to be fresh dirt. She pulls back on Max's mane and he stops. She slides slowly off him placing her feet on the ground using the horse to lean on. She steady's herself and lets go of him walking over to the mound. She stands transfixed without emotion for what seemed hours, staring down at the earth.

Suddenly she drops to the ground. Hugging the mound under her, she begins to sob uncontrollably. "I am sorry, Belamore", she whispers through her sobs. "I love you and I am so sorry."

She places a large stone upon the shallow grave to mark it and to honor him in some way.

It is afternoon now and she is sitting on a patch of grass under the oak tree. Sitting next to the mound. Night will come soon.

Continued...

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