East of the Moon and West of the Sun

Once in a land not far from here and in a time not too long ago.

Galerie leaned against the wooden banister and peering down at the sunflowers that turned their heads up to her lovely face. The fine words of her admirers floated up to her as they sung their praises from the lawn below. There were three of them, some of the finest young men in the kingdom and although she had never taken a liking to any of them, she smiled and acknowledged their flattering compliments.

"Lovelier than any earthly thing, my lady. Your exquisite face is what drives the moon away, down to the earth, for it is ashamed at its marred complexion in comparison to your snowy features." One was saying.

"This fool could never love you as I do, do not waste your time listening to his words. For if you would wed me, my lady, you would live as a queen and your happiness would be my happiness. " The dark haired youth said, he was very hansom but she doubted that he could much improve her comfortable lifestyle. Her father was a farmer, but their plentiful lands were rich and Galerie had never suffered many hardships. They had made sure that she was always happy because her parents loved her very much, it was a winning combination that had given her a pick of all the best men in the kingdom.

The two men who had spoken were exchanging harsh words about who could love her best but the third young man still stayed silent. He simply stared up at her, smiling, and seemingly to dim for anything to say. Galerie cast him a weak smile and then repeated the words she had said to all the young men that had pleaded for her hand in marriage.

"I thank you for your kind words, but at the moment I simply couldn't leave my dear parents."

The trio sighed almost simultaneously and walked back to the stables to retrieve their well-bread horses. Galerie stayed on the small wooden balcony for awhile even after the three men had disappeared from sight. This was the usual routine for most of Galerie's days, except for this day, which took a very unexpected turn. Several months ago, the king of their land had gone to war. Galerie had nearly forgotten the piece of information because the battles took place more than far enough away for her to be unconcerned about the whole thing. But news of wars traveled slowly through farmsteads that had little care for such things, and when the king's reinforcements from the south of her father's lands turned up to demand livestock it was a shock, to say the least.

"Galerie! Galerie!" She heard her mother calling. Her mother's hurried steps on the stairs came closer and by the time Galerie had opened her door into the hallway she could her several unfamiliar men's voices on the floor below.

"Who is that mama?" Galerie asked straining to look past her mother and down the stairs, curious about hearing the voices of more possible suitors. However her mother simply took her gently by the arm, leading Galerie over to the bed and shutting the door behind her. "Is something. wrong?" Her mother was breathing heavily, and had apparently taken off from the front door at quite a pace.

Galerie's mother placed her finger to her lips to quiet her. "The king's soldiers are outside. They want father's horses and food to feed themselves." Her mother whispered, with a worried look towards the windows and then at the locked bedroom door.

"Will they. Must we have to give them it?" Galerie whispered back, swallowing hard. Their livestock was one of her father's greatest assets and without their food they wouldn't have much left. The two sat down on the bed and Galerie clutched at the bright bed hanging for support, they heard the sound of boots crossing the room downstairs.

"It sounds like it. They were a hungry looking bunch, they might take what we don't give to them."

Galerie and her mother didn't leave the bedroom that night, her mother had said father would come get them when it was safe enough. But he didn't come, so the two stayed where they were and fell asleep to the noise of footsteps outside, below them and the noise of livestock moving about, neither of them daring to take a glimpse out the window.

A knock at the door the next morning brought them out on an uneasy sleep and at the sound of her father's voice Galerie quickly strode across the room and unlocked the door. Her father stood in the hallway looking quite pale and bearing a tray of several biscuits.

"Father what happened?!" Galerie whispered sadly. Her father walked past her and sunk down on the bed, placing the tray in his wife's lap.

"I hope you enjoy breakfast, it's all that we have left." He said in a quiet voice, his statement brought a gasp from the two women.

"Everything?" Her mother whispered. He nodded and then looked back at the floor. Galerie had never seen her father look so old before, she knew he was getting on in the years but usually he was pleasant and energetic from all the fieldwork. But now he looked gaunt and very tired.

"I think you should rest papa. You don't look well." Galerie told him, trying to keep her voice calm as she guided him out of the room and down the hallway into his own bedroom. "I'll see if I can't get you something hot to drink." She added, pushing the curtains aside to let in more light, then sweept out of the room and down the stairs. Galerie ambled through the house, looking for damage but the rooms seemed to be untouched until she reached the kitchen. The pantry doors hung open revealing empty cupboards and iceboxes. A thin layer of flour covered the kitchen floor, like snow; tainted by hundreds of footprints going back and fourth as the soldiers carried off a season's worth of food.

Galerie took a couple of minutes to sweep off the flour to one side before rummaging through the shelves to check if some bits of food had been forgotten. Even some of the pots and pans had been carried off but she found a battered teapot on a top shelf, which had been hiding a small jar of honey. Other than that she found nothing and after setting the two items on the counter she hurried outside to pull some water from the well. Galerie stopped in her mother's garden where the sunflowers had been growing the day before. Most of the vegetables were and the rest had been trampled, but in determination she stooped to look for an herb to put in the kettle once she had the water boiling.

As she looked, the sound of hoof beats came to her ears and she turned just in time to see three horses coming up the path to her home. The riders stopped once they saw exactly whom it was stooping in the dead garden. They were only about ten feet away, and Galerie felt her cheeks redden as she recognized the three young men whom had been trying to court her the day earlier. She was wearing the same dress as yesterday except now it was wrinkled from sleep, dusted with flour and had a rip in the sleeve from where it got caught in the well's pulley.

"My lady.. you look.." The poet began.

"As rough as a peasant!" The dim silent one finished. Apparently women only daunted him when they looked their finest.

"Sirs.. The king's soldiers took much of our livestock for the war," Galerie explained in her most dignified tone. "Perhaps you could-"

"Do you mean to say you no longer have a dowry?" The dark haired man demanded, looking disgustedly at her tangled and unbrushed hair. The other two had already begun looking about from where they were perched on their saddles. It must not have looked very pleasing, and their dislike for the farm's condition began to show in their faces.

Finally the poet cleared his throat and announced that he had some business in town and quickly turned his horse back down the path. The other two followed right behind him, not even bothering to leave an excuse, their disapproval at her new image evident in their faces. Galerie watched them retreating down the path with a sinking heart. When the dust from the horses disappeared behind a hill she sat down again in the garden and pulled her knees up to her chest.

'Who will have me now?' She thought.

She sat there for a long time, but when Galerie heard her mother calling for her from an upstairs window she took the water bucket and the herbs she had found before her visitor's arrival and headed inside. After stopping in the kitchen to set the water boiling underneath an already smoldering fire, she wearily headed up the stairs.

Her mother was waiting at the top, worry lines creased under her eyes. "You were gone for so long and I thought I heard a man's voice.." She paused when she caught sight of the tear and dirt. "Are you alright?" Galerie nodded. "Papa might have to spend the rest of the day in bed," her mother began. "I think he's taken ill. But it probably just the stress, I'm sure he'll be fine after a night's sleep."

But he wasn't, and he didn't get any better after a week of night's sleep. And he began to look even worse with the passing days. Galerie's mother almost made herself sick with worry, no amount of her housewife treatments worked. And because she was always taking care of him, Galerie had to learn to catch rabbit and small fowl since she and her parents couldn't live on the small pot of honey. As the weeks went by, less and less would-be courtiers turned up. The news had traveled that Galerie's dowry was gone, that her fine clothes had become rags and her hands had grown rough from work. It was true too, and Galerie began to dread the sound of horses come up the path; it would mean unkind remarks and repugnant looks.

She comforted herself with a newfound talent: archery. A boy from a neighboring farm had given her his old practice bow out of pity. But it turned out to be what kept food on her family's table. She taught herself how to use the bow and fashioned some primitive arrows from the trees that grew on the edges of her father's fields. But with her mother spending most her time nursing her father, she seldom had anyone to talk to, other than the rare unimpressed courtier and her heart cooled with the thought that no one would ever wed her.

One day her mother emerged from the sickroom, looking very tired and holding a small silver cup. It looked more like a short teacup because it had no stem and a beautifully guilded handle the side opposite of the lip. Galerie had just returned to the house carrying an armful of kindling. When she saw her mother coming down the stairs she dropped it in a pile next to the kitchen stove and went to her mother.

"Galerie, I want to be honest with you. papa won't survive this sickness much longer." Her mother told her, as she reached out for Galerie's hand and placed the silver cup into it. "You must go to the house of the South Wind and use this cup to bring back a clear drink from the spring in his garden." Galerie turned the cold silver cup over in her hands, looking at the different leaves and flowers impressed on the sides of it. A bout of raucous coughing broke out from her father's room above and Galerie sighed at the though of leaving him, his body dying behind his thickly embroidered bed hangings.

"I don't understand mama, what will a bit of water do for father? And what will you eat while I'm gone?"

"The water that flows through the South Wind's garden isn't ordinary. Don't worry about us, I think we can manage for a week or two." She said, a brave smile hiding her worrying nature. "But you must hurry, there will be nothing we can do to help him unless he gets that water soon."

Her mother didn't allow much time for protesting, she gathered up some leftover food and some other items she might need and then swept her out of the house. There weren't any horses to ride or carry her sack of provisions so Galerie set off down the path to the road on foot.