August Shadow (working title): Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

Story Summary:

Lia Grey is a spirited sixteen-year-old, an opinionated, fiery girl who couldn’t care the slightest about her town’s ridiculous ideas of the proper conduct of a woman. Despite the gossip about her reputation, she is content and happy with her life, her only concern being her arranged betrothal to the town’s young blacksmith, Mark Samuels. He adores her; she can’t stand him.

Then, one night, she is attacked by a patron of the tavern where she works, and the person she thought she was is destroyed. Torn apart by the experience and her emotions running wild, she turns to the comfort of a stranger, a man who isn't what she thought him to be.

Now, Lia must struggle through the trauma she has suffered and the consequences of the choices she has made.

You can view the prologue here: http://www.abctales.com/story/finingnight/august-shadow-working-title-pr...

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CHAPTER ONE

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SUNLIGHT SPILLED OVER HER as the early morning mist began to dissipate. She hovered between waking and sleep, listening to the cheerful singing of the trickling creek. The grass around her was wet with dew, and the folds of her dress were still cold with the night’s passing. The reeds moved slowly in the morning breeze, and various insects were already beginning to hum. Sickly sweet and thick, the fragrance of June flowers filled the air, mingling with the fishy odor of the water. She loved the peace of the cool of the morning, and she wished she could stay there forever.

There had been a summer celebration in town the night before, and Lia, sixteen years of age, had escaped the festivities of the townspeople the moment the opportunity had arisen. Lighthearted with her stolen freedom and running as fast as her legs could carry her, she had made her way to the creek. The creek was her haven, her place of refuge from the townspeople, and Lia had fallen asleep to the whisper of reeds and the croaking of frogs.

She hated the townspeople. They were strict and stifling, and even their so-called celebrations were boring and uneventful. Lia avoided the gatherings as often as she could, and she had spent many a night beside the creek as a result.

The sound of rustling footsteps in the tall weeds drifted towards her, and she snapped awake. Rubbing the last dwindling moments of sleep from her eyes, Lia searched the creek’s bank for the source of the sound, and felt a chill run down her spine. She wasn’t alone. She pressed her back against the tree under which she had spent the night, huddled in the grass she had made her bed. Her eyes strained, searching for any sign of who had found her hiding place. As she watched, she saw a face slowly rise out of the grasses until the dark figure of a man stood before her, several yards away.

“Did you get a good look, whoever you are?” Lia called out defiantly, her hands searching the folds of her dress for her dagger. Her father had given it to her after she became the cook at the town’s tavern, concerned about her safety among the men who frequented the place, and although his fears had so far proved unfounded, she still carried it with her everywhere she went.

Her fingers found the smooth handle of her weapon and she leaped to her feet, brandishing the small knife. Her heart jumped into her throat as the figure took a step forward into the sunlight, then she rolled her eyes when she recognized him. It was Mark Samuels.

Lia was engaged to Mark, who was the son of the town’s widower blacksmith. She couldn’t stand him, but it was the fear of the townspeople’s accursed opinions that would force her to marry him when the time came. A broken marriage oath was considered as shameful as being a whore, and the gossip that would result from such an event would undoubtedly send a woman into the streets to making her living in the night.

Now, as Mark stood before her with an innocent look on his face, Lia felt her lips curl with scorn. She should have known it was him.

“It’s only me, Lia,” Mark said, his tanned face twisting into a smile.

“Why are you here?” she demanded, angry at his intrusion. “Why were you watching me?” Mark took another step towards her.

“I didn’t see you last night,” he told her. “At the party.” Lia shook her head.

“I wasn’t there,” she said curtly. He was close now, and she could clearly see him.

He was tall, his face brown from the sun and the heat of the blacksmith’s fire. His blue eyes were striking in contrast to his thick, black mane. He was very handsome, his body and face having the look of a man’s despite his youth, and many of the town’s girls could only daydream of catching his attention. He didn’t care for the other girls, though. He had eyes only for Lia.

“I was worried about you,” he continued, still slowly advancing. “Will you put the knife down, Lia? I’m not going to hurt you!” He chuckled, smiling wider this time. “You look ridiculous, you know. Your hair!” He pointed, and her girlish vanity took over for a moment as she reached up and felt the wayward strands of her chestnut tresses. Her tightly wrapped hair had fallen into a tangled mess, and she knew she must look terrible. She tucked her knife back into her dress and crossed her arms.

“It’s not like you didn’t know where I was!” Lia spat disdainfully, knowing full well that Mark was familiar with every place she frequented. “Why were you watching me?” Mark shrugged, glancing away.

“I was looking for you last night,” he said, ignoring her question. He seemed uneasy, as if he couldn’t quite find the words he really wanted to say.

“I already told you, I wasn’t there,” Lia repeated, scowling with annoyance as she turned to leave. “I have to go, I’m late for work.” She could hear Mark’s footsteps following her as she walked, and a tingle ran up her spine.

“Wait, Lia.” His voice was much closer than she thought it would be, and she instinctively moved away. His hand brushed hers, and she pulled back.

“I have to go, Mark, I’m late,” she said again, quickening her pace. She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw that Mark was still following behind her.

“Lia, wait!” he called, running quickly to her side and reaching again for her hand. Catching it, he pulled her to a stop. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” Lia jerked her hand to free it from his grasp, but he held her tightly. She turned to glare at him.

“I need to speak with you, Lia,” Mark repeated, his voice low. Her breath caught in her throat. She knew what was coming, and she didn’t want to hear him profess his love.

While she knew that he thought he loved her, and she had heard of his romantic ramblings from those who had overheard him, he had never personally told her how he felt, and the thought of having to listen made her stomach turn.

“I’ve been thinking about what to say to you for quite some time. I want to tell you….” His voice trailed off, and she looked up at his face. He was nervous, the side of his neck pulsing with each quick beat of his heart. She tensed.

“Mark, I’ve got to go,” she insisted, tugging at her hand again. “Really, I’m late!” Jerking away with a quick movement, her hand suddenly came free, and she stumbled back. Mark reached for her, and her flailing hands instinctively grasped his. The weight of her fall was too much, and she and Mark landed in a heap in the tall grass.

Lia could feel his body against hers as they lay there, unmoving, stunned by the fall. She opened her tightly clenched eyes to see his slate-blue gaze looking down at her, and she felt her heart begin to race. He seemed frozen in place, and she realized that he was holding his breath.

“Get off me!” she gasped, kicking at him with her feet. “Get off!” Mark didn’t move, and she kicked again. He stared down at her, a dazed expression on his face.

Freeing her hand from where it was pinned by her side, she brought it hard against his cheek, breaking his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, recovering quickly. He leaped to his feet and grasped her hand to help her up. Lia stood and brushed at her long, grass-stained skirts.

“I am now that you’re not crushing me!” she huffed. She began walking towards town, her eyes straight ahead. She glanced back after a few moments, and she was relieved to see that he wasn’t following. He just stood there, watching her leave. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

 

Mark had made his intentions to marry her known throughout the town a little over a year before, at the first spring party of the season. He was much sought after by the other girls in town, considered a perfect catch as he was both handsome and a skilled blacksmith capable of earning a good living, and there had been many dirty glances cast her way when the girls at the party had discovered that it was Lia who had caught his eye.

Lia, sulking at being forced to attend the gathering in the first place, had been oblivious to what Mark had done until two of the girls at the party, Margaret and her sister, Helen, had decided to confront her.

“I don’t see why he would choose you,” Helen had scowled, glaring at Lia. “Why you? I would think Mark would want someone more respectable!”

Lia had a reputation in the town for her constant outbursts of opinion, a trait that was considered shameful for a woman to have. She was used to being gossiped about, and she usually had a quick retort for anyone who insulted her, but not that night.

“What do you mean?” Lia had asked, too surprised and bewildered to return the snide comment. “What are you talking about?”

“As if you don’t know!” Margaret had huffed, pointing across the room in the direction of the boys. “Mark told everyone that he intends to marry you! You, of all people!” Still confused, Lia looked at where they had pointed. Mark, staring unashamedly, was gazing across the room at her, his flock of friends huddled around him and stealing glances at her, laughing. Disbelieving and embarrassed, Lia had turned to Margaret and Helen, grabbing them by the shoulders and pushing them outside.

“Where did you hear this?” she had demanded as the girls protested her rough handling. “Speak, tell me what you know!” To her utter dismay, the girls had angrily confirmed that Mark had laid claim to her.

Lia had always known of Mark, and he had lived in Brunbury for as long as she could remember. They had played together as children; then, when he turned twelve, his father began teaching him the trade of blacksmithing. She had gone on to work in her family’s fields, and she had not spoken to him again until the day before that party.

Mark had dared her to climb to the roof of the cobbler’s shop, laughingly claiming that girls were not nimble enough for even so small a feat. When she had taken his dare and fulfilled it, he had pushed her from the roof and bloodied her nose. Seething from behind her bleeding face, she had chased him, pelting him with rocks, until one throw caught him in the side of the head. She had split his ear open, and he would forever carry the scar.

On that day, Lia had vowed to hate Mark, and she would not easily forget that she had been forced to attend the party wearing the cuts and bruises he had given her. Her hatred for him had been further strengthened by his sudden, unexplained interest in her, and she wished she had given him more than just a bloody ear.

Mark had effectively informed the entire town of his intentions at that party, despite the fact that he must wait, according to custom, until her sixteenth birthday to formally ask for her hand. There would be talk of a dress, and a dowry, and her father would scrimp and save in preparation for the marriage celebration, which would stretch her family’s already meager meals even further. This was yet another reason for her to despise Mark, and despise him she did.

As expected, Mark had arrived at her father’s door on her sixteenth birthday to ask for her hand. When her father had called her down to give his consent to the betrothal, Lia had run from the house before a word could be said. The wedding was set take place in exactly a year, giving her parents only a short time to save enough for the celebration and a dowry, and the days that followed the betrothal were miserable for her. Every moment of her family’s time was spent working to prepare for a marriage she didn’t want, and she cursed Mark with each breath she took.

Luckily, Lia began working as the cook at the town’s tavern just a short time later, and the wages she earned were more than sufficient to cover the wedding costs. She loved working there, and she found the lighthearted atmosphere of the tavern appealing and exciting.

Women weren’t permitted to spend time with men, and, like so many other things, even the rumor of a woman breaking some ridiculous rule of appropriate behavior was enough to label her a whore. Whores were of less worth than dogs; they were forbidden from being seen in the town during the day, forced to earn their bread by selling themselves in the whore’s alley each night.

At the tavern, though, the fear of being judged a whore didn’t exist. No women ever came near the tavern, and the tavern’s patrons liked having Lia there, finding her amusing to watch. She would dance and joke with the men without a second thought, knowing that they wouldn’t speak of her playful antics outside the walls of the tavern and risk getting her fired.

She was comfortable in the company of the strangers that filled the place every night. The evenings were full of stories of violence and heartbreak as the men’s tongues, loose with drink, spouted off their most painful and wretched memories: the spurn of women, the comfort of whores, the agony of their life’s wanderings. Lia listened intently, happily drinking in every word.

Mark was the only drawback that came with her job, and he would spend any time he could spare in some inconspicuous corner of the tavern, watching her as she laughed and worked. At least she knew that he, like the other men, would never speak of anything she did that might be considered questionable, and she was still able to enjoy her newfound freedom.

As the year had passed and the memory of her bloody face diminished, the stab of pain from her wounded pride faded to a dull ache. Lia had come to accept, albeit spitefully, the fact that she couldn’t escape the coming marriage, and her main reason for disliking Mark was now more because of how annoying he was than anything else. He followed her everywhere, taking every opportunity he could to talk with her or spend time with her. He was a suffocating presence, a shadow she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

Almost immediately after Lia’s father agreed to the marriage, Mark began using any spare time he had during his work hours to make little charms and figurines for her. He would leave them on her windowsill every morning for her to find, and she had come into the habit of tossing the useless gifts into the ditch next to the road on her way to work each morning. Somehow that made it worse, knowing that she couldn’t even escape him in the safety of her own bedroom. Now, as she walked home, she wondered if there was yet another worthless trinket waiting for her.

 

Lia crested the hill and looked down upon the town of Brunbury. Located on a busy travelling road, the town was always abuzz with people passing through. The town itself was small, only a handful of buildings and shops to speak of, but it was growing slowly and steadily as those who stopped for a rest decided to settle there. Her parents had done the same thing before she was born, and it was the only place she had ever known.

From where she stood, Lia could see the dark, thatched roof of the Laughing Vixen Tavern and Inn where she worked, which was close to the outskirts of town, and a glance to the north revealed the tall plume of gray smoke wisping from the chimney of her home. She was dirty and barefoot, and a shielded glance at the sun confirmed that she was, indeed, very late. She knew her employer, Jem, would be livid. Sighing, she turned towards home to prepare for work.

[end of Chapter 1]

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