Christina's Tale, Part I

---Aaron---

No more masked horsemen interrupted our journey to Ravenstone, but we were on edge the entire time. Several times when there was no village in sight, we just rode through the night instead of making camp. We didn't want to risk another ambush. We took rest stops so the horses wouldn't die from fatigue, but Katherine and I would take turns napping on horseback as the other kept a tight hold on both reins and continued riding towards Ravenstone.

One night, we were lucky enough to find a small village at the side of the road long since night fell. There was a five-room inn that looked really sketchy, but the only alternative was to ride through the night again, which none of us wanted to do. After paying the innkeeper, a plump middle-aged woman wearing thick makeup, we were led to a single room with a king-sized bed, a worn-out arm chair, and a small dresser. A window was on the side of the room, its curtains half drawn. Two small lanterns burned brightly. The mattress was stuffed with straw, and the blankets were not only thin but also made of rough, scratchy linen cloth. Charles complained of hunger, so Katherine went out to try and get something from the kitchen. Meanwhile, I pulled out the thick tapestry we had taken from Lord Victor's treasury and spread it over the bed so that we would have something soft to lay on.

Katherine returned with a tray topped with a chunk of butter, two bowls of watery soup, half a loaf of bread, and a plate of roast ham. "This cost me an entire gold coin," she complained as she set the tray down on the dresser. We sat down in a circle on the floor between the bed and the wall. "That lady only gave me the soup at first, but I saw her stash of food. It wasn't until I threatened her with my sword did she give me these actual food."

"Kath, you shouldn't have done that," I chided her lightly. "What if she called the sheriff on us or something?"

Katherine scoffed. "Call the sheriff on us? Even if she did, you think a puny sheriff could stop me, the warrior of the Rosewood Seven, from getting food for you guys?"

"You've got a point there." I chuckled. For all her good traits, Katherine had a clear mess-with-me-and-you'll-be-sorry attitude if she was cranky. "Eat up, children." I helped distribute generous helpings for Charles and Christina, and then cut two slices of bread and roast ham for Katherine and myself.

Charles fell asleep halfway through our late night meal. Katherine gently tucked him into bed with my fur cloak as a blanket. Christina finished her food, but didn't appear to want to go to sleep. She curled up next to me and looped her small arms around one of mine.

"Not tired?" I asked. She shook her head and stared out the window, which revealed a silent and peaceful village. A slant of moonlight streamed in through the window, casting a pale glow onto the wooden floor. "Is something on your mind?"

Christina was quiet for a moment, and then she said softly, "I miss my parents."

I waited for her to continue. According to Martha's hurried words before we escaped, Christina and Charles's parents were killed, most likely by Lord Victor's soldiers. Charles was too young to remember the incident, so the only person who knew what happened was Christina.

Christina didn't answer at first. I thought maybe that was the end of our conversation, but then she said quietly, "I was only four years old. Mom, Dad, Grandpa, Grandma, Charles, and I were all living in a town far away from here. I don't remember what it's called, or where it was. But I remember our two-story house, with marble countertops in the kitchen, fruit trees in the backyard, and a drawing room. It was a really pretty house. We had huge bookshelves in the drawing room. I loved to pull out books and flip through them to look at the pictures. It was my favorite place in the whole house.

"Our house had tall windows where the sun would shine through and make the floor warm. Mom always had freshly-baked cookies in the kitchen. I still remember the smell of apple and cinnamon in the kitchen. Dad's office smelled more like pine trees. He had lots of dark wooden furniture that he and Grandpa made themselves. Grandma always sat in a rocking chair in the living room, knitting or reading. I think our living room was painted a nice, sunny yellow color, with picture frames on the wall. Grandpa liked to sit by the fireplace because it was nice and toasty.

"Dad and Mom always had time for me, even after Charles was born. Even if he was working, Dad would stop to read me a story, or take me on a walk. I remember him buying me candy at the local grocery store. My mom was very pretty. She had long brown hair that was really soft and smelled like flowers. I loved it when she hugged me, because it just felt really nice and warm. I liked it when Dad hugged me too. He had really strong arms—kind of like yours, Aaron—and he could lift me all the way up in the air. I felt really safe if he was with me. My dad could scare away any monster." Christina rambled on, describing her life before with whatever detail came to mind. I listened quietly, imagining a happy family of six living in a spacious, loving house. Katherine sat down on the other side of Christina, also listening to her story.

"We were all very happy. It was fall, and I was really excited because Dad promised to take us on a trip to a festival in another town. I waited for a long time to go, and Charles was finally old enough to travel. I remember running through the house as Mom and Grandma were packing. Now that I think about it, they seemed a bit worried about something. But I didn't know what was wrong, and at the time, I barely noticed it. I remember seeing Dad write letters—he said it was for my aunt or another relative, but I don't really remember. But then the night before we were supposed to leave, bad people came to our town."