Post by itanyablade on Jan 19, 2007 0:03:21 GMT -5
((I wanted to put the first part of my novel, but I'm having to reconstruct it since my harddrive crapped out. So, this is something I wrote a while back.))
There was no doubt about it, the colt was dead. The boys looked down at the mutilated corpse and then up at each other. “She’s not going to like this.” Abraham shrugged his shoulders as Warren spoke. “What are we going to do?”
Abraham let the reins of his horse go, keeping silent as he watched the well-trained mount put more distance between it and the dead cold at its rider’s feet. Warren dismounted as well to stand forlornly at the evidence of their crime. When Abraham’s gaze finally left the pitiful corpse, he spoke with only a small quiver in his voice. “Check and see if it’s been marked.”
“Why don’t you check it?” Warren took a few steps back as he spoke, glaring at his friend. Abraham’s mismatched eyes narrowed in annoyance, but Warren did not stop speaking. “What good is that going to do? It’s still dead and she’s still going to be angry.”
Abraham rolled his eyes. “If it’s not marked, it hasn’t been counted yet. If it hasn’t been counted, then she doesn’t know it’s been born.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? So what?” Warren said, matching Abraham’s stance. “So what if she hasn’t counted it? She’ll notice if the mare isn’t pregnant anymore.”
Abraham grunted and knelt down beside the colt. He brushed flies away from his face as he pulled the colt’s ear, looking for the tattoo. “The colt could have been lost in all sorts of ways. It means that she can’t blame us for not watching.” Abraham stood up and brushed his hands on his pants. The morning dew created dark wet circles at his knees. “All we have to do is get rid of the body and we don’t get in trouble.”
“I won’t get in trouble, anyway. It wasn’t my idea to go into the cave anyway.” Warren’s voice gained the princely tone it always did when he was trying to pin the blame on Abraham. “You’re the one who thought you heard a troll,” he said, sticking his tongue out.
“I did hear a troll. It was just faster than your slow legs.” Abraham raised his fist, planning to knock Warren off his feet, but the colt was still between them. “Doesn’t matter. Donkey-Breath won’t care. She’ll punish us both, even if it was your fault.”
The boys stood on either side of the dead horse and glared at each other. The sun slowly marked the ground with their shadows. Abraham broke the stand-off first. “Help me move the horse,” he said and went to his mount to grab some rope. Warren did not move. “She’ll send you home to your family and you’ll have to wear starched collars and proper shoes and sit inside all day with lessons.”
“All right. I’m helping.” Warren stood there for a moment longer and then went to grab the coil of rope from his saddle. Neither of them was very good with knots, but eventually they managed to get the dead colt securely wrapped and attached to Warren’s saddle.
“Are we just going to drag it?” Abraham broke the silence that had accompanied their sloppy rope work. “Maybe we should bury it,” he said as he pushed the toe of his boot into the dirt.
“What are we going to dig a hole with? Let’s just drag it to the edge of the cliff and throw it into the river.” Warren threw himself onto the back of his horse and started the beast walking. “Follow behind and make sure it doesn’t get out of the ropes.”
“Knights are supposed to order each other around,” Abraham said as he hurried to follow after Warren. “And they aren’t supposed to be afraid of trolls.” He spoke louder this time, smiling as Warren glared back at him.
“I’m not afraid of anything.” Warren’s voice rumbled with anger and his knees pressed into the flanks of his horse. He was barely able to keep it from jumping into a gallop. “I’m not even afraid of her.”
Abraham frowned at Warren’s show of bravery and then paled as he looked over his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of Frog-Lips either.” He tried to keep a brave face as a single woman astride a coal black horse galloped towards them. Maybe they had argued too long over the troll, after all.
There was no doubt about it, the colt was dead. The boys looked down at the mutilated corpse and then up at each other. “She’s not going to like this.” Abraham shrugged his shoulders as Warren spoke. “What are we going to do?”
Abraham let the reins of his horse go, keeping silent as he watched the well-trained mount put more distance between it and the dead cold at its rider’s feet. Warren dismounted as well to stand forlornly at the evidence of their crime. When Abraham’s gaze finally left the pitiful corpse, he spoke with only a small quiver in his voice. “Check and see if it’s been marked.”
“Why don’t you check it?” Warren took a few steps back as he spoke, glaring at his friend. Abraham’s mismatched eyes narrowed in annoyance, but Warren did not stop speaking. “What good is that going to do? It’s still dead and she’s still going to be angry.”
Abraham rolled his eyes. “If it’s not marked, it hasn’t been counted yet. If it hasn’t been counted, then she doesn’t know it’s been born.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yeah? So what?” Warren said, matching Abraham’s stance. “So what if she hasn’t counted it? She’ll notice if the mare isn’t pregnant anymore.”
Abraham grunted and knelt down beside the colt. He brushed flies away from his face as he pulled the colt’s ear, looking for the tattoo. “The colt could have been lost in all sorts of ways. It means that she can’t blame us for not watching.” Abraham stood up and brushed his hands on his pants. The morning dew created dark wet circles at his knees. “All we have to do is get rid of the body and we don’t get in trouble.”
“I won’t get in trouble, anyway. It wasn’t my idea to go into the cave anyway.” Warren’s voice gained the princely tone it always did when he was trying to pin the blame on Abraham. “You’re the one who thought you heard a troll,” he said, sticking his tongue out.
“I did hear a troll. It was just faster than your slow legs.” Abraham raised his fist, planning to knock Warren off his feet, but the colt was still between them. “Doesn’t matter. Donkey-Breath won’t care. She’ll punish us both, even if it was your fault.”
The boys stood on either side of the dead horse and glared at each other. The sun slowly marked the ground with their shadows. Abraham broke the stand-off first. “Help me move the horse,” he said and went to his mount to grab some rope. Warren did not move. “She’ll send you home to your family and you’ll have to wear starched collars and proper shoes and sit inside all day with lessons.”
“All right. I’m helping.” Warren stood there for a moment longer and then went to grab the coil of rope from his saddle. Neither of them was very good with knots, but eventually they managed to get the dead colt securely wrapped and attached to Warren’s saddle.
“Are we just going to drag it?” Abraham broke the silence that had accompanied their sloppy rope work. “Maybe we should bury it,” he said as he pushed the toe of his boot into the dirt.
“What are we going to dig a hole with? Let’s just drag it to the edge of the cliff and throw it into the river.” Warren threw himself onto the back of his horse and started the beast walking. “Follow behind and make sure it doesn’t get out of the ropes.”
“Knights are supposed to order each other around,” Abraham said as he hurried to follow after Warren. “And they aren’t supposed to be afraid of trolls.” He spoke louder this time, smiling as Warren glared back at him.
“I’m not afraid of anything.” Warren’s voice rumbled with anger and his knees pressed into the flanks of his horse. He was barely able to keep it from jumping into a gallop. “I’m not even afraid of her.”
Abraham frowned at Warren’s show of bravery and then paled as he looked over his shoulder. “I’m not afraid of Frog-Lips either.” He tried to keep a brave face as a single woman astride a coal black horse galloped towards them. Maybe they had argued too long over the troll, after all.