Rain Glade

by Carroll, John H.

  The soldier held his hand up again at the cries from the people who knew other deceased. “Rest assured that our lord will have his vengeance. The bodies of the men will be available in the morning for proper burial. Until then, get you to your homes and be safe.” With that, the soldier left the platform and headed inside.

  The crowd filtered out of the yard. A few people noticed the crying woman who wore a pretty, if drenched, new dress. They touched her shoulder sympathetically before going on their way.

  Rain didn’t notice the contact or the people. All she could think about was Jacob: his smile, his touch, his voice and the absolute emptiness of her life without him in it.

  ***

  When Rain looked up, she didn’t know how much time had passed. The courtyard was empty and the only light was from torches by the main door and inside the entry into the yard. The moons barely made the clouds glow and provided no real light to see by. Rain’s tears mingled with her namesake. Brushing arms across her cheek to wipe them away was a futile gesture.

  She stood and looked around. Her dress clung to her body in a wet mess and she couldn’t stop shivering. Wrapping her arms around herself, she headed toward the castle.

  The main doors were shut against the weather. Rain didn’t think they’d let her in anyway. She walked around the side, hoping for another entrance. The building and the wall came close to each other, making an alley along the side. Then it opened into the stables.

  A few torches lit the stable yard, but there were no people. One of the torches was by a castle door with rusted iron brackets and an awning to keep the steps dry. Rain climbed the five steps and tried the handle. To her surprise, it opened. With another glance around the yard, she slipped through the doorway.

  More torches lit the cold hall, but they were far enough apart that shadows covered most of the space. Rain tried to wipe away the tears once more, but her sleeve was soaked and they weren’t stopping anyway. A shadow reached out and tried to help, but Rain realized it was probably just her imagination.

  She moved down the hall until she heard voices. The aroma of cooking food wafted through the air. Rain wasn’t hungry, though her stomach rumbled in disagreement. She stopped at the open door and listened.

  The words were faint but she could hear women talking. A high-pitched voice said, “If Lord Greffen doesn’t recover from the injury, his son will take over. I can’t imagine what it will be like around here with his sniveling.”

  A lower voice with a crack of age to it said, “Don’t you be talking like that. You can be hung for criticizing their lordships and I’ll not have any of that in my kitchen.”

  “Yes, Cook,” the first woman said in contrite tones. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Just you watch your mouth. That’s all. Now get back to work.”

  “Yes, Cook.”

  Rain heard footsteps coming her way, so she hid behind a tall table with a statue on it. No one came out of the door after a moment, so she snuck past and continued exploring. Tears continued to flow uncontrollably down her cheeks.

  The hall ended in an open chamber. The air was even colder and Rain shivered. She peeked from the shadows and saw a soldier standing with his arms crossed in front of him and his head hanging. On the floor at his feet lay three cloth-covered figures. Rain bit down on her fist to keep from screaming in despair, but a whimper escaped her lips.

  The soldier’s head rose and a hand went to the hilt of his sword. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”

  Rain froze as the soldier began turning in her direction.

  “Sarge?” another voice said, coming from the hallway opposite Rain.

  The sergeant straightened and took his hand off his hilt. “Oh. It’s only you, Tom. You startled me.”

  “We’re all a bit jumpy, Sarge. The captain wants to see you right away.” The new soldier thumped a fist to his chest in salute.

  “Alright, Tom. Let’s go.” The sergeant put a hand on the other soldier’s back and they walked away.

  Rain moved toward the figure she thought was Jacob. She was terrified to move the cloth to find out, but had to know. Rain crouched and lifted the canvas. A sob burst forth at the sight of Jacob’s peaceful face. She dropped the canvas and covered her mouth while looking to see if anyone noticed.

  Double doors were set into the exterior wall, likely leading outside. She didn’t want to be found, so Rain lifted the canvas and kissed Jacob’s cold cheek, leaving tears behind. Then she went to the doors. Again, she was surprised that they opened. Rain slipped through one and studied the surroundings. She was on the other side of the stables from the door she had used to enter the castle. The yard was still empty of people.

  An untended horse nickered nearby. It was miserable standing in the downpour next to the steps. An idea occurred to Rain. In the past, she had helped care for Farmer Tann’s horse in Cothbern, so she knew how to handle one. The horse pushed its head against her when she came near. She petted it for a moment.

  Looking around, Rain saw that no one was near. She guided the horse so that it was sideways next to the steps, then she told it to stay, not caring that her plan would get her executed if anyone caught her. Rain opened one of the doors and went to Jacob’s body. With all her strength, she rolled him over and got a shoulder underneath him. It took everything she had to stand with his weight, but desperation coupled with a lifetime of toil carried her through the door and to the horse.

  Somehow, she slung Jacob’s body in front of the saddle. A rope was attached to the saddlebags and she used it to secure him as best she could. Rain whispered apologies between sobs. When she thought he would stay on, she pulled herself into the saddle.

  Rain didn’t want to go through the front gate, so she rode the horse around the yard until she found another entrance behind the stables. The gate was up and it was unguarded, allowing her to slip through without notice.

  Once she reached the outskirts of town, Rain kicked the sides of the horse. She took one last look over her shoulder at the town of Seyten. Its dim lights disappeared into the gloomy storm as she galloped away.

  ***

  Rain rode with her lover in front of her. For the first time in her life, she understood the appeal of her namesake hiding tears, for they never stopped flowing. Rain wanted them to stop, but they refused.

  The journey was surprisingly fast. Rain rode through the hills behind the village and turned when she reached the creek. She was sore from riding, but didn’t take notice. Before long, she reached the pool where she bathed. A strangled sob burst from her chest as she remembered the first time Jacob had talked to her.

  The rest of the ride was a blur. When she came to the tunnel, Rain dismounted and led the horse to the tree where she and Jacob always sat. Searching through the saddlebags, she found a small shovel. It took a long time to dig a hole large enough, but Rain was determined Jacob should receive a proper burial. By the time she finished digging, her beautiful dress was covered in mud and grass stains.

  The ropes were waterlogged and difficult to undo. Rain persisted and eventually pulled Jacob down into the grave as gently as possible. When he was down, she took off his sword and attached it to the saddlebags. Then she smacked the horse on the rump and watched as it ran out of the glade.

  Jacob’s red leather uniform had a large, bloodstained gash in the chest. Rain crossed his arms over it and straightened his legs. She wiped droplets of water from his face, but they were quickly replaced by her tears. It took even longer to cover him with dirt than it had to dig the hole.

  When the last shovelful of dirt landed, Rain knelt by Jacob’s grave. She cried throughout the night. Rain wanted to stop, but couldn’t.

  ***

  At some point in the morning, she looked up to the sky and pleaded with the Gods, “Please bring him back. Please bring my Jacob back.” Her tears fell even harder as she waited for an answer that never came.

  She couldn’t bear her wretched life without the one she loved. Grief overwhelmed
Rain, and she let it consume her. She became the tears that were its symbol, her essence fading as they flowed.

  Fairies fluttered from the trees and sadly wove the tears into the raindrops falling from above.

  ***

  Four days after Rain left to find news from Seyten, Verna stood by the pool and looked at the clear sky. It was a beautiful day, but she was worried about her friend. Verna had gone to the village that morning to see if there was any news, only to discover that Lord Greffen had come back with three soldiers dead, one of whom went missing. That soldier’s name was Jacob.

  Her heart grew heavier with each step she took along the creek. By the time she reached the tunnel and made her way through, she feared the worst.

  The sun no longer shone on the glade. Looking up, Verna could only see clouds forever releasing their droplets of water. She felt the magic in every drop and in the very air itself, twice as strong as before.

  And then she heard it. Barely audible crying filled the glade. Each and every drop of water falling from the sky carried it.

  Lying in between two large roots of a tree was a fresh grave. Verna went over and stood next to it. After a moment, she turned away and stood in the middle of the glade. She twirled in a circle with her head to the sky.

  Verna held out a hand and kissed the moisture that fell upon it. “I love you so very much, Rain.” With tears in her own eyes, she left the glade.

  ###

  About the Author

  John H. Carroll was the youngest of seven children and was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1970 where he was kept in a dresser drawer with the clean socks. Luckily, he wasn’t kept with the dirty socks or else he might have grown up to become slightly warped.

  As a child, John spent most of his time wandering through the Mojave Desert in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the sky, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. One of his favorite memories is watching his dad build the fuselage of Evel Kneivel’s skycycle in their garage. One of his least favorite moments was watching that skycycle fall into the Snake River. (Not his dad’s fault and he has documentation to prove it, so nyah)

  As a teenager, John spent most of his time driving wherever he could in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the road, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. He was the captain of the chess team, lettered in golf and band while in high school, and wasn’t beaten up anywhere near as much as one might imagine.

  As an adult, John spends most of his time staring at a computer screen in an attempt to avoid people. He stares at the monitor for hours, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. He has been married to his wonderful wife for sixteen years and they have three obnoxio . . . wonderful children who always behave . . . when they’re asleep.

  Emo bunny minions surround John at most times. He is their imaginary friend and they look to him for guidance. At one point, they took over the world. No one noticed because they left everything exactly as it was. They gave the world back after a week because it was depressing.

  The Willden Trilogy is his first endeavor into the field of writing. Other series and standalone works will be forthcoming. In addition, John has written a number of short stories that can be found at most eBook sites. He writes in the evenings and weekends whenever possible. Regrettably, the family mentioned in a previous paragraph desires food and shelter, requiring the author to possess a full time job until his writing makes him rich.

  You can follow his blog where he discusses writing, emo bunnies, family and various other topics of insanity.

  http://www.ryallon.blogspot.com/

  Follow him on twitter if you like insane ramblings and random comments.

  http://twitter.com/kookoo88

  Find him on Facebook where he discusses current projects and writing in general: http://www.facebook.com/John.H.Carroll.Author

  His Goodreads Page:

  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4479427.John_H_Carroll

  Stories for Demented Children:

  New! The Emo Bunny that Should - Illustrated Edition: With beautiful illustrations by Arlene Rose. You can get it at the store where you found this one.

  Emo the Bunny was a sad bunny. He preferred gloomy days, walks over a cliff and misery of any sort. One day he saw something very unusual. Normally he'd take a nap and try to forget about it, but for some reason he took an interest. Then things happened. Emo the Bunny hated it when things happened. Caution: This story is not for normal children.

  “A Collection of Stories for Demented Children” You can get it at the store where you found this one.

  Five short stories combined into one, written for demented children and adults too. Text versions of these stories can be found for free individually. I am charging for the compilation in the hopes of earning a living from my writing in order to support my own demented children. Some content may be disturbing for younger, or sane, children.

  Novels of Ryallon:

  My full-length novels are set in the world of Ryallon. They are high fantasy with rogues, knights, dragons and flower children. You can get them at the store where you found this one.

  Willden Trilogy (Written first)

  Ryallon

  Anilyia

  Kethril

  Dralin Trilogy (Set in time before the Willden trilogy)

  Dralin

  Ebudae

  Pelya

  Stand-alone Novella

  Rain Glade

  Coming soon:

  The Crazed Trilogy (Set in time after the Willden Trilogy)

  The Morhain Trilogy (Set in time after the Willden Trilogy)