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The familiar, pungent smell of horse grew stronger as Brynn entered the stable. She paused and breathed in, the scent lingering, dancing inside of her, then fading as she grew accustomed to it. Forgoing the rules so often pressed on children, she ran to her favorite horse, whose ears perked as he heard her light footfalls across the hardwood floor. Slipping on the straw, she caught herself on Percy, and scrambled up the horse’s leg. Atop the gelding, she was on her throne, a queen in her castle. She gazed over her domain. The wide open barn doors would need a better gate should anyone try to invade, but the loft would make an excellent vantage point. The tack room, she mused, could be her armory – not that there was anything much there to fight with.

The sound of horse hooves in the yard momentarily broke her from her revelry. She stood up on Percy’s back and jumped into a straw pile. Clambering up into the hay mow, she took up her position behind a stack of hay. “Intruders,” she whispered.

Through the open doors, she could see there were four of them – two men and two big boys. No matter. They wouldn’t lure the queen from her fortress. They were talking to her father, as many travelers did. But these men were different. No other traders did her father, her strong, proud father, bow to. They seemed civil at first, but then voices were raised. She saw her father pick up a torch and walk cautiously, sidestepping his way, to her castle. 

“You will never destroy us,” Father said in the voice he uses when training the horses – quiet, but firm. Not even the wildest horse would dare defy him. 

Then he dropped the torch.

The stable instantly went up in flames. Through the smoke, Brynn saw the strange men smile, then gallop off. Father started opening all the horse’s stall doors, the tall dark steeds bursting into the clear outside air. When most all were loose, he dug through the flaming straw, pulling out a stack of papers. He threw them into the fire.

“Father, what are you doing?” Brynn asked, jumping out of the hay mow.

“Brynn. My princess.” He squeezed her close, then set her on Percy. “Take the Hidden Road. Ride for Gard. Don’t look back.”

She nodded resolutely, but inside, she was terribly afraid. Warrior queens obey their fathers, and horsewomen of Gyre do not show their fear. She kicked Percy with her short legs and directed him to the Hidden Road. Outside the smokey haze, she breathed easier. She had ridden this trail many times with her father. Out of Gyre they went, but she looked back. Her fortress had fallen, and her father was nowhere to be seen.

Blinking back tears, she charged with grim determination down the Hidden Road.

@jane-maree There’s mine… it’s based off of a scene in my book, and it rather ended up a little more like that. A little off topic, sorry 😛 But, yeah. Any feedback welcome 🙂