April 27th, 2014 at 3:58 AM
I figured I'd share the prolog of my WiP "Gelltanas" (it means "binding promise" in Gaelic).
“Where’s mommy?†Thom’s small voice asked as Archimedes fastened the cloak around his narrow shoulders and put him up on the saddle. The wind was biting, and he didn’t want him to catch a chill. His son. The pale blue eyes several shades lighter than his own were wide and worried beneath the curtain of silvery hair.
His question made Arch’s chest tighten as the image of his wife filled his mind. “She isn’t coming, Thom.â€
“Why?â€
He hesitated, uncertain how he wanted to answer. To delay the explanation he fiddled with the girth a little more than was necessary and tried to come up with the best way to tell the four year old boy his mother was dead.
“She’s… ah… she’s gone away, Thom. Remember when I told you she was very sick?†Despite his best efforts to keep his voice even it wavered, and he had to clear his throat to keep it from breaking.
“Where’d she go-o-o?†Thomas wailed. Arch’s heart gave another wrench as he climbed up onto the saddle behind Thom, hugging him to his chest with one arm and gathering the reigns in the other.
“Sometimes sick or old people go far away where we can’t see them anymore, Thom.†The explanation sounded thin even to his own ears and did nothing to quiet the sobs wracking the child in front of him. Someday I’ll explain, Thomas. You’re just too young now. The sounds of the child’s grief made the man’s throat close and the backs of his eyes burn. All Archimedes could do was hug his son close as he nudged the chestnut horse away from the castle.
“Where’s mommy?†Thom’s small voice asked as Archimedes fastened the cloak around his narrow shoulders and put him up on the saddle. The wind was biting, and he didn’t want him to catch a chill. His son. The pale blue eyes several shades lighter than his own were wide and worried beneath the curtain of silvery hair.
His question made Arch’s chest tighten as the image of his wife filled his mind. “She isn’t coming, Thom.â€
“Why?â€
He hesitated, uncertain how he wanted to answer. To delay the explanation he fiddled with the girth a little more than was necessary and tried to come up with the best way to tell the four year old boy his mother was dead.
“She’s… ah… she’s gone away, Thom. Remember when I told you she was very sick?†Despite his best efforts to keep his voice even it wavered, and he had to clear his throat to keep it from breaking.
“Where’d she go-o-o?†Thomas wailed. Arch’s heart gave another wrench as he climbed up onto the saddle behind Thom, hugging him to his chest with one arm and gathering the reigns in the other.
“Sometimes sick or old people go far away where we can’t see them anymore, Thom.†The explanation sounded thin even to his own ears and did nothing to quiet the sobs wracking the child in front of him. Someday I’ll explain, Thomas. You’re just too young now. The sounds of the child’s grief made the man’s throat close and the backs of his eyes burn. All Archimedes could do was hug his son close as he nudged the chestnut horse away from the castle.
