Saywen looked out the window of her room. Dark clouds rolled through the sky. “I hate rain.” She thought to herself. Footsteps echoed through the halls as her mistress walked down the cellar stairs. “Come here you worthless girl!” she screamed. Saywen jumped to her feet and ran to her bedroom door. The door flew open, knocking Saywen to the floor. “There is a huge storm headed this way. Prepare the food supplies just incase.” “Yes Milady.” Saywen rushed to do her lady’s bidding.
Ever since she could remember she had been living and working in this house. When she was young her parents had been killed by wargs. Lady Kyla’s husband, Lord Haleth, found her in her dying mother’s arms. “Raise her well.” Those were her mother’s last words. That was four hundred years ago. For the first fifty years of her life she had been counted as Kyla and Haleth’s children. When they died their children made her a servant, but treated her kindly. But when Lord Aethor married Lady Hilinia things changed. Every night she could be found in her room with new welts on her back. For a hundred years she was free but then she became their toy. If they wanted her to do something she had to do it or get a severe beating. She was their puppet.
As Saywen reflected on her life she stored provisions in the cellar and in the kitchen. Soon she had no more room in either place. “Milady?” she asked softly as she approached her mistress. “What is it, girl?” “We are out of room in the cellar and in the pantries. May I have the permission to store it in the open in the kitchen?” “Of course.” She sighed exasperatedly and walked to her bedroom. Saywen went back to stocking the kitchen until everything was in the house.
Later on that night the rain came, gently at first and then in torrents. Soon it became ice. “Milady!” Sonya, another slave, came rushing into Lady Hilinia’s room. “What is it now?” she sighed. Saywen was stoking the fire, which made the scars on her arms turned a bright red. “There are riders headed this way, Isondil told me to tell you that one was slumped in front of another. He must be wounded.” “Saywen! You are a healer. You shall be in charge of the wounded man.” “Yes Milady.” Saywen bowed and glided out of the room gracefully. “Sonya, prepare the guest rooms.” “Yes Milady.” She ran out of the room.
Ok, this stunk, but trust me! it gets better! Just read the next chapter!!!