Untitled 2

Chapter 1

            I hitch my woollen skirt up to my knees and run, I have only seconds to find a hiding place. My racing feet crunch through the layer of brown, dry leaves that carpet the forest floor  threatening to expose  the direction in which I have fled.

            Behind, I hear a shout then in the distance the sound of footsteps following my path through the copse of tall oak and elm trees, a few golden leaves still clinging to their branches high above my head.  I glance from side to side as I run, searching for a place to hide. Then I see it. Taking a sharp right turn, my feet slip on the leaves and  I lose my footing, landing on hands and knees. The pursuing footsteps are drawing closer so hastily I scramble back to my feet and run to the vast fallen oak. It was brought down by lightning last year, the branches were taken for firewood but the huge web of roots still fan out from the base of this prone giant.

            In a most unladylike manner I tuck my skirt into the front of my waistband and scramble up through the roots to the highest point, where I can easily reach the lower branches of a neighbouring oak.  Pulling myself up I rest my stomach on the sturdy branch for a couple of seconds, then I swing one leg over and sit upright as if straddling a horse. I shimmy along, pushing through smaller branches until I reach the vast trunk. Carefully I turn around so both legs are on the same side of the branch, then with my back against the trunk, I pull them up, resting my chin on my knees. My heart is pounding. Slowly I bring my gasping breaths under control before they alert the pursuer to my whereabouts.

            The footsteps draw closer and a voice calls out, "Where are you? You cannot hide for long, you know I will find you." Suddenly he bursts through the trees to the left, legs pumping furiously and he sees the fallen oak. "You think you are clever," he calls, running towards the massive trunk. "But you are not."

            I watch him run the length of the tree trunk, peering under and over, then he makes his way to the base where he bends over to stare into the shadows behind the tangled roots. He looks so comical that before I can stop it a snigger bursts out of my mouth. He hears and spins around, then around again a frown of confusion developing on his forehead.

            "Where are you Triana?" he shouts, frustration makes his voice squeak and I laugh again. This time he looks up and sees me sitting on the branch. "Found you!" my younger brother crows in triumph.

            " Actually Morstan, you did not find me," I inform him, beginning to shuffle my bottom back along the branch. "I allowed you find me."

            "No you did not! You gave away your position which means I win!"

            Swinging my leg over the branch I roll over on to my tummy again then carefully lower myself until I am hanging by my hands. With a quick glance down I let go with a whoop of  exhilaration. I land lightly on my feet, rolling as soon as my feet touch the ground, to lessen the impact on my joints.

            "You need to learn to accept defeat Morstan," I inform my little brother as I stand up. I brush leaves from my clothes then unhitch the front of my skirt allowing it to fall back to just above my ankles.

            "Why should I when I have won the game?" he pouts petulantly, hands on hips.

            Stepping forward, I tousle Marston's chestnut curls, he has inherited my mother's colouring - pale, flawless skin, green eyes and hair the colour of shiny chestnuts that have just broken free of their casing. Unfortunately, I have inherited from my father, but as first born it is only to be expected. My skin is darker and both my eyes and hair are a rich dark brown.  I wish I had inherited his gender too.

            "Come little brother," I say, patting him on the shoulder. "Perhaps cook can be persuaded to reward the victor with a slice of honey cake.

            He grins up at me, revealing the gap where he lost a tooth last week during sword practice . "Race you!" he shouts, as he takes off towards the house.

            I hesitate, allowing him a head start of a few seconds, he is four years younger but he is fast for his age. Besides, if he reaches the kitchen before me then we are more likely to get a slice of cake - cook has a soft spot for my brother.

            It is not a grand house considering my father is an Earl, I have visited much larger. However, all the land I can see as I exit the copse belongs to him. There are in total seventeen buildings, this includes the manor house and barns, the flour mill, and of course the houses in the village.

            I was born here and I could not imagine living anywhere else, or even wanting to for that matter. But I had the misfortune of being born female which has taken away many of my choices.

            Ahead of me, sprinting full pelt across the grass is Marston. almost losing control of his short legs as he hurtles down the slope towards the rear of the house where I can see the kitchen door standing ajar .

            "You had better speed up little brother, "  I yell, hands cupped around my mouth to carry the sound further. "First to the kitchen gets the largest piece." Once again I lift my skirts,  revealing my bare lower legs covered in scratches and bruises, and I take off, rapidly building speed until I am sprinting down the hill, my long, straight  hair flying out behind my head.

            I care not for other people's opinions, besides I do not believe the locals are shocked by this behaviour any more.  My mother will still scold me if she sees me, she is still under the false impression that I will relinquish my tomboy nature and allow both her and my governess to transform me in to a lady.

            My father on the other hand, accepts me for who I am and between us we have found a way of secretly defying my mother's wishes. Thinking about the man that I hold in such high esteem makes my heart flood with affection, I was born blessed to have such a man as my father.