Wildhafer: a maidens' trail

     As the sun rose above the horizon, the sky brightened to orange, and then yellow, transitioning finally into a light blue. Not a cloud was in sight as the midsummer morning sun warmed the air. Several men in dark blue silk cotehardies marched in a line from the bucolic road skirted in tall grasses and bushes to a well trod path leading towards a manorial plot. At the lead was a man in a floppy flat hat. A small drum was tied around his waist with a thick leather strap and he was hitting it with a pair of drumsticks at a light tempo. Behind him was a man with a recorder playing a lilting tune. Next, came a man with shoulder-length gray hair, Uengeif the Baron of Suchen, his small cerulean eyes peering ahead. The line of men extended for nearly fifteen and behind them were several wagons of supplies pulled by horses. Behind the wagons were about an equal number of ladies in fancy dresses, firstly Daena the Baroness of Suchen, her hair covered in a wimple an...

  It was a cold night and the sound of a woman grunting was lost among the loud cracking of thunder outside. She laid on a hay mattress on the dirt floor of a small room with stone walls and a thatched roof. Her long curly black hair framed her beautiful round face as she squeezed her pale blue eyes closed and furrowed her brow. She cried out suddenly in pain. Adala’s light blue eyes shot open. She sat up from her pillow and looked at her sleeping sister next to her on the bed. It was still dark outside. She looked on her other side, to Sartie, also sleeping. She lay back down. A minute later, there was a single knock sound against the balcony door. Adala sat up. There was the sound again and Alora opened her eyes. “What was that?” Alora asked, sitting up and looking at the wooden door with her sister. “Maybe it’s your admirer,” Adala smiled. “What?!” Alora retorted. “Shhh!” she whispered. “You might wake Sartie.” The twins got up off the bed. They both wore a formless sh...