Warmth

Riden felt out of place, like a black sheep in a world of white rams. He was sitting at a royal table, feeling the blue cloth that lay atop it, and admiring all the wonderful food spread before him. Everywhere he looked, silhouettes of noble damsels and rich dukes talked and feasted- and of course, there was Silvia. She stepped out of the shadows, her pale face a stunning contrast to the long black waves that hung from her head. She smoothly glided toward him, her delicate hands grasping the edges of her violet laced dress. In seconds, she was seated next to him, caressing his thigh, daring him to fight the growing elation inside him. This can't be real, Riden thought, it's too amazing. But all thoughts subsided when Silvia gently grabbed his head and pulled him toward her, herself leaning in and sheilding her brilliant sea-green eyes in anticipation of the coming chemical reaction. Riden let go of hesitation, and leaned in to meet her, feeling her body heat radiating off her. He closed his eyes...and suddenly felt very cold and wet.
"Wake UP!"
Again, the icy cold water hit him, this time sucessfully pulling him into the world of the awake.
Riden sat up, and stared into the faces of ten hungry chickens, and one very furious Sim.
"Lazy child! Get up, Lord Talron needs the deliveries out early today."
Riden shivered as he got to his feet, and tried to make his eyes adjust to brightness of the torch Sim held to light the barn. He stubbled over to the stable, grabbed the horse's blanket and threw it over himself. He looked outside while Sim opened the bag of feed for the noisy hens. The moon still shone, though the first breaks of day were on the horizon.
"Why so early?" Riden asked. "We'll probably be the first ones to market."
"The Lords's daughter returns from London today. We will need to be finished selling by noon to help the others clean the house for her arrival."
Riden grinned. "Silvia," he said with excitment. "I didn't think she was coming back for another week." He sighed, thinking about her beautiful smile, her soft skin, her-
"Come out of your dream world, child, and get to work." Sim snapped. "You don't have a minute to spare- the Lord requested that the sheep be sheared and the wool sent down to the felter to be made into winter coats for him, the Mistress Silvia and the Master Gordon."
Riden stopped and shivered at the thought of Gordon. The youngest of Lord Talron's children, ten year old Gordon was a brute of a child, who spent his free time torturing the servants and animals of the manor. He was so unruly, he was sent to live in a house up on the hill, with the strongest of the men serving him, so they could be beaten yet still able to work. Riden had no desire to see him ever again.
"Hurry child- to the fields with you, or I shall see you beaten. Oh, and divide the wool into three bags: white wool into one, black into the other, and mixed into the third. Now Shoo!" Sim kicked at him, just as Riden grabbed the shears. He ran out of the barn, the chilled early morning air making him shake uncontrollably. But the thought of Silvia returning home only made him run faster.
Silvia was the only person who had ever been nice to him. When Riden was just a small kid of five, his mother was sold to a traveling merchant. As the merchant paid Lord Talron enough money to pay the King's taxes for that year, he had his men drag Riden's hysterically sobbing mother away to a cart. As they drove off, Riden tried to follow them, his anger carrying him as far as three miles before his childish legs gave out and he sat down and cried for his mother and himself. He stayed there all night by the side of the road, crying until he was dry and red. The morning found Riden exhausted and in pain; he could not stand, let alone walk, and his sadness was immeasureable. He closed his eyes, and resolved to sit there until death came for him; but instead of a reaper, he found himself an angel.
"Hello." said a soft sweet voice. Riden gazed upwards to see a young Silvia, looking forlorn and tired.
"I'm sorry about your mother. My father...well, he's not nice sometimes. I want you to know that I would do anything to bring her back. She was very kind."
Riden nodded and looked back down. "Thanks" he said. Then he felt something warm- Silvia's arms embracing him. They sat there like that for hours, until Silvia's nurse found them and brought them back to the house. Riden was scolded for being near Silvia, and he was given to Sim who would train him to take care of the animals and sell goods at the market.
He thought about this day as he stripped the sheep down to their bare skin- how he too had a warmth in his life that had been taken from him without his consent. But, like the sheep's new wool that would quickly grow, his mother's warmth, her love, had been fastly replaced by Silvia's.
As soon as the bags were full to the brim with the soft but dirty wool, Riden loaded them into a cart for transport to the felter. He hitched the old farm mule up to the cart, and set off for the city.
It was a calm ride- only the blue october sky, clear except for the occasional falling leaf, and the dying oaks along the dirt path to keep them company. Riden could feel himself falling asleep to the rythmic steps of the ancient creature walking, and closed his eyes to test his ability to rest. He had a few moments of peace before a long, loud scream pireced the air.
Riden held onto the cart and the old mule raspily brayed and stopped moving. The man who had screamed stepped out of the woods- he was a tall scraggly man, who held a small dagger in his hand. Riden tried to remain calm.
"Good morrow, sir." Riden said, his voice shakey. "Are you in need of assistance?"
The man stood in front of the cart, breathing heavily like a rabie crazed dog. He shoot a glance a Riden.
"What's in the cart?" The man asked with a fearsome face.
"Just some nothing special wool. I'm bringing it to market." Riden replied, hoping the man wouldn't be interested in it.
"How much 'ya got?" The man asked.
Riden took a deep breath, regretting that he hadn't brought a weapon. "Three bags."
The man looked at the bags, and then at Riden. Then he held up the dagger.
"Give them to me." He said menacingly.
"No." Riden said. "This wool is my Lord's, it is not mine to give."
"GIVE THEM TO ME!" he shouted, waving the dagger in the air. Riden jumped from the cart, and tried to make his way to the woods, but the man followed him, and pinned him on the ground before Riden could stand; he could smell the man's breath as his face came inches above his.
"I'm taking your cart." The man said, holding the dagger to Riden's throat. Riden tried to shout, but the man silenced him with his hand. The crazed look in the man's eye made Riden freeze up in fear. Suddenly, the man lifted the dagger, and brought it down in Riden's chest. A bright white and searing pain were all that Riden could sense for what seemed like a great while. Time seemed to slow down to nothing as the blood gushed from his heart. After a time, his vision began to clear; he saw the man pulling the dagger from him in slow motion, drops of blood moving slower the snails in the air. Then, behind the man, a carriage stopped on the road, and a man and woman ran out of the carriage and towards them. The man he did not know, but the woman...she was beautiful. The girl of Riden's dreams was running to him-
It was Silvia.
"No, RIDEN!" she shouted, as Siliva's escort pulled the man off Riden, grabbed the dagger, and slit the man's throat. Riden saw his assialant fall down dead in eerie slowness. Then he felt a familiar warmth- Silvia's arms around him. He looked at her as she said his name. With the strength he had left, he put his arms around her neck, and felt her complete embrace for the last time before slipping into the darkness, his last thought a thank you to God for the angel that had let him feel warmth.