Forest Of Questions - Dragola The Mystic (read a book .TXT) 📗

Prolouge

It was one of those silent nights, the ones when your footsteps echo and every sound makes you shiver, I pulled my cloak closer to me as if shielding myself. I had to get home and fast, it was past curfew and I had only just dodged a guard a couple of streets ago. I knew mother would be freaking out and I would get a yearlong lecture from Dad, but that’s what you get for living in the forest…

 

You see we live in the Forest castle of Englindon ‘a satanic minority’ in 1550- apparently the woods are cursed by pixies and sprites: living here makes you ‘Satan’s city of demons’. All the other cities in Englindon hate and conspire to slay us. But none dare to brave the forest. That is the one good thing about living, here I guess.

 

The King Rolderik the 1st is terribly ill and his advisors rule the city now- they think curfews are the way of life and we are not allowed out after sundown.   Which is unfortunate when the market is in the central sanctum and you live within the outer walls. I was out only for noble reasons, my pocket full and our wares sold, but guards don’t stop to listen. Don’t bother to care.

 

The wind was just whipping up as I turned the corner to my road and nearly crashed into the guard waiting at his post; “ And what do you happen do be doing out past curfew miss?” he questioned. “ Thank goodness I found you,” I said putting on my best ‘out of breath’ act “I came to warn you of a hut fire in the southern section of the outer wall! The guards said to find you!” I was glad of the hood protecting my face as he paused considering my words, “Make way! And get back to your hut quickly!” I sighed in relief “Yes ‘course sir.” I replied as I ran along the cobbles toward my hut.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 1- Sounds in the thatching

 

After my pitiful meal of acorn loaf and ale I was lectured; the bounty of 14 punde (*£5.50) from market taken for saving and I was sent to bed. I drew out getting ready, as I knew bed was an itchy sac stuffed with straw- after spending 480 heart pulses fumbling with my petticoats I gave up and curled up on my ‘mattress’. My parents slept in the main room with my sister Marion but I had the only cupboard because: “Developing girls should have a room of their own”. It was only a matter of time before I took the floor and Marion the cupboard, after all this year was the 10th, year month since her birth.

 

But I enjoyed my cupboard, however musty it was. As I lay on the mattress willing myself to sleep a faint scuffle and then a mutter drifted from the thatching; amazed and terrified I stood up trying to be silent and peered through the gaps in our thatch…

 

“Give us that!” a croaky voice grumbled from directly above me.

“In your dreams Braisik!” another whispered from my right,

“I found it so it’s mine!” the one I assumed was Braisik retorted loudly. “Excuse thee sirs,” I said trying to be both polite and confident, “but what pray tell are you doing in thy thatch?” with that they were silent. “Come down I say!” that was followed by a snapping of twigs and two child sized men fell from the ceiling. “He is Gegouth and I Braisik” began the first, “Treepeople.” He finished.

 

I was shocked to silence as the creatures of mythology explained themselves. When I didn’t reply the slightly less polite Gegouth brandished a knife. I managed to stammer a reply telling them to take the cloak and my bonnet if they wished; to this they simultaneously replied “We would, much rather take you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2- A Ride after dark

 

My head was covered with a sack and my ankles were bound. I didn’t know how the Treepeople had made me fall asleep but I was definitely tied and ‘blind’ moving in some sort of cart. I thought it wise not to talk as I remembered Gegouth’s knife the night before. “Eh Gegouth, our little maid is stirring” I heard Braisik say, “Hello Missy, I think I should just inform you that you are being taken to Queen Kækoko of the Treepeople but we are taking a little detour to my house and you swill be given some new clothes because your… petticoated situation is not fit for the slave of a Queen.” I was utterly speechless for a few seconds and then I felt a soft prick on my arm. And then nothing…

 

 

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Publication Date: 02-04-2016

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