The fridge air hit Lucia as she stepped from the warmth of the house into the night. Twenty steps to the fence and she would be free. She dreamed of escaping that life for three years. Finally, the dream was coming true and Lucia could not believe it. Hopping over a low fence, Lucia broke into a run toward the beach.
Icy water stung her legs, and with a yelp she backed up onto the dry sand. Collapsing in the sand, Lucia rested her tired body and gazed up at the night sky. It was a clear night. The sky was filled with a million stars. A million diamonds twinkling on a black velvet cloth. The night sky was a constant and welcome friend that comforted her on her worst nights.
This night, in particular, she needed a friend. She had escaped from her miserable life, but what now? Lucia had no place to go and nothing to do; nor did she know what she planned to do. So Lucia lay on the beach thinking and planning until an idea came to her: she would find him. She would stay on the beach for the night, and then maybe she would try to find him. He told her he would help her if she were ever to find herself in need of aid.
Yes, she thought, that is what I’ll do. I’ll find him. With that final thought, she fell asleep and dreamt of an oasis.
The ocean woke Lucia that morning. The tide came in before the sunrise and lapped at her toes. All the better, she thought, although not before cursing the chilly nipping at her feet. She could get off that beach before people might see her. Lucia walked to the main road and headed inland; those were the instructions he gave her to find him. She was to go to the town with two steeples, find the master coachman of the stable there. She was to tell the coachman that she was “a princess from the white castle and demand to be taken to Ruleshire orchard.” Although Lucia thought the phrase was quite ridiculous, the man explained that the master coachman would understand and know what to do.
Truthfully, Lucia did not remember the man’s name; she only remembered his kindness. At first, she doubted his sincerity. Many men had promised her things, but in reality those men only want one thing. Naturally, she figured that the man she was seeking was the same as the rest. However, after spending a few minutes in his company, she realized he was a very different sort of man. He was dressed the same as the majority of the men she had seen, but he was much more attractive. Attractive is the word she used to describe him, because he was not extremely gorgeous, but definitely handsome. However, his demeanor is what really separated him from the rest of the men she knew.
His words stayed Lucia after he left. Initially, she lent the words very little consideration, although she could never seem to forget them. As time progressed and her life grew worse, she began to think more about the things he had said. A year later, she clung to the memory which was the only light in her hopeless world of darkness.
Lucia had not always been in such a wretched state, but as is oft to happen life takes some unexpected and wanted turns. That is how Lucia at the age of twelve ended up working as a maid in a tavern. For the next three years, she endured endless had work and beatings from her unyielding mistress. Her mistress was crude, shrewd, and unscrupulous. She made Lucia’s life a living nightmare. The only blessing Lucia afforded for not to be sacrificed to the lust of some of the miscreant clientele that frequented the tavern. Her mistress would have none of that, being as Lucia was such a young girl.
However, now that Lucia was growing older, Lucia could tell that her mistress’s mind was beginning to toy with the idea of extra income to that decrepit establishment. Therefore, Lucia took this as prime time to make a quick and speedy exit. So, she decided to run away from the tavern and the madam who controlled her life. The man’s promise was the reason she could walk along the lonely road with slight assurance of a better life, as the sun’s rays peaked over the trees.
She spent most of her time thinking as she walked. Sometimes she would sing or hum, but most of the time she was silent. Lucia felt as if she had been walking for hours. She did not know how far the town was from the small port where she had lived for the past three years of her life. The town could be days away for all she knew. Stopping of a second, she wondered whether she should turn around and go back.
“No,” Lucia exclaimed aloud. Anything was better than her old life, and she would walk as far as she had to for a chance to live a new life.
As dusk neared, she approached a town that indeed had two steeples. She breathed a sigh of relief; she was exhausted from her journey and wanted to find that master coachman as quickly as her fatigued legs would carry her. Once in town, she asked a watch merchant if he could point her in the direction of the stables.
“Of course,” he replied, “it’s right next to the smithy…the chimney with the black smoke.”
“Thank you,” said Lucia, for she was truly thankful, the town was fairly large.
A stable boy, who was actually a very old man, answered the door when she knocked. He was a bit curt and skeptical of her, but finally he left to get the master coachman. A big, robust man with red jowls returned and asked her how he could be of service, also eyeing her with suspicion.
“I am a princess from the white castle and demand to be taken to Ruleshire orchard,” Lucia announced just as that man had told her.
Her statement had a profound effect on the master coachman. His eyes widened and then narrowed.
“Please come in,” he replied hastily. Backing away from the door let her into the office of the stable. She entered cautiously; she never trusted men, except the man.
The room was Spartan and contained a table, a few chairs, and some papers stacked in messy piles on a tall desk. There was a fire blazing in the hearth on the left side of the room that provided both light and warmth.
“What in blazes does Rulershire want with you?” inquired the coachman with slight impatience.
“And how did you become involved with his high and lofty self?”
Lucia began to feel uncomfortable; maybe this Rulershire and the coachman were no longer friends. It had been over since Rulershire gave her the instructions.
“I met him a year ago,” she replied carefully, “he said if I needed help, to contact you. He told me that you could take me to him.”
“Hmm…true enough,” the coachman mused, his angry, reddish complexion began to fade. “But where did you meet him?”
“At my shop.”
“Really?”
“Yes, sir.” Lucia added the “sir” because she knew it would sweeten his demeanor.
“What trouble did you get into, eeh? Kill anyone? Someone wants to kill you? Say you aren’t pregnant are you?”
“N-no!” responded a rather taken aback Lucia. His inquisitiveness had startled her. She had not killed anyone. To her knowledge, she had no enemies with strong enough hate to want her dead. And by the Good Creator, did she look pregnant! She always thought she was a bit too thin.
“I am certainly none of those! Not that it’s any of your business to know what my business is, she added, vexed by his rude accusations.
“It is my business since I’m his…oh never mind,” answered the coachman with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll take you to him tomorrow. He’ll know what to do with you, and he obviously told you to contact him for some reason. Why else would someone go running around that absurd message?”
“I was hoping we could leave right away?” implored Lucia.
“No, in the morning. It’s too late now. You can stay in the hay loft for the night.”
“Hay loft?”
“Yeah, I have no extra rooms. Go out those doors and climb the ladder and I’ll see you in the morning,” and then he added with a smile, “Get some rest as well. You look tired.”
“Thank you,” Lucia said as she took leave of the room. She did not stay and argue. It was very late and she was tired. After climbing the ladder, she settled in the soft hay. As she slept, she dreamt of an enormous black horse.
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