A Lapse In TIme
About the story:
Once upon a time, in a village long ago and far away, there lived a young girl whoes parents couldn't care for her. She was given to a man who took her to the palace, and worked there until she was in her early twenties, late teens.
The bells rung from the steeples of the Catholic Church. The one that I had been attending for the past seventeen years. It had since been surrounded by small shops, and large taverns, and now only the faithfullest went there every Sunday. That was the place where I had been learned my letters, and where I had learned to read. Although I only had a couple of hours each week to do so, I still liked to vist and say prayers. The Building was built on a hill overlooking a valley or worn buildings, and thatched roofs in desperate need of repair. Every morning when the bells rung to wake the monks, I would rise with them, and hurry about the early morning preperations. I had long since gotten used to the late nights, and very early mornings.
This morning as the bells rung, I heard something different in the way they sung, or was it in the way they looked as they sung. In any case, I forgot about it as I went about my duties as the palace maid. I was one of the three girls who had the task of cleaning the entire place. The palace that I'm talking about was the one where the Duke of Stoneburge lived. The duchess loved to have as much money on hand as possible, so that ment there where almost no decorations in any of the bedrooms. There where, however, many on the main floor where all of the parties, dancing, and dinning took place. You see, it wouldn't do to appear as though you were trying to save every penny you received. As one walked in the front doors of the palace, they would notice the exquisit paintings, chandleers, and rugs that told of very expensive taste. There where hooks to the left and right of the doors, and two butlers stood at thier posts, ready to take the coats, hats, scarves and anything else that was handed or thrown to them. At the far end of the hall, which was only about sixteen feet in length, was a pair of royaly carved wood doors. Despite giving an omounis look to the hallway, what was on the other side proved enough to set even the richest, most important person at ease.
Beyond the doors was a soaring ceiling, carved, and painted with little angels, suns, moons, and stars. From the very center of the dome hung the largest and grandest piece of gold, and bronze work that I have ever seen. Suspended on a golden chain as big around as my head, was a huge chandeleer. I believe that it was five feet in diameter, and it took about fifty strong men to pull it up into place. The flooring in the room where gold and bronze tiles that made patterns on the ground. About five steps from the doors there was two steps down, and twelve steps from there to a raised pond with a fountian. All around the room there was pillars, and between the pillars, rows upon row of trees. All in all, the main entrance was more like a garden than a room. But it was one of the places that I was not allowed in except on Sundays.
I was allowed on Sundays because the family would be gone for the entire day, and no one was there to stop me. When I was little, I used to walk around the entire room, and use the paints that I bought with my hard earned money to capture the lovely trees, or the fountain. One day, I lost track of time, and the family came in, and saw me with two finished paintings, and a third one started while I sat with my eyes closed listening to the sound of the water of the fountian. When I looked up, Duchess was holding the two paintings, looking at me, and Duke was scowling.
"Whell, I thee'ink Whev'e found some whone to decorate the palace, free oof charge." Said the Duchess.
Startled I said, "You mean that you'll put my painting up where everyone can see them?" I was a little intimidated at the thought.
"Whell, unless you have'a good reason for us not ta," said the one person of the famly who I didn't mind too much. The Duke's son, Ramond.
I didn't know what to say, so I stuttered instead, "Bu....But, why would you....I mean, how...Um....Why my work?"
Ramond said to his mother, "I think that the peasent girl doesnea know what ta say." To me he said, " I think you had better show me what else you have in that room of yours."
I didn't want him to see some of the things that I had been working on, so as fast as I could, I ran up to my room, and locked the door. Panting, I started to shove some portraits of the family that I had been working on under my mattress. I heard the door creak, and looked up. I blushed when I saw that he was holding a partly finished painting of himself.
Turning to me with a raised eyebrow he said, "Whell, ya certainly have soome talent. I like it, but I don't think my eyebrows are that big."
Giggling I said, "Look in the mirrior. That might change your perspective."
Looking offended, he took the profered mirrior, and upon gazing at the face reflected said, "Whell, I guess that I do." He turned to me and smiled. "Now, let's see what you have hidden under that bed of yours." He walked forward towards the bed.
Running to it, I sat on the spot where the pictures were hidden. He stopped for a second then came on again. He walked until he was right infront of me, and when I still would not move said, "Move." I shook my head, and sat all the more firmly on the bed. He griped my shoulders, and tried to lift me from my place, but I wouldn't budge.
"What is under there that you don't what me to see?"
"I won't tell, because then you'll know what it is that I don't want you to see." He was scaring me, and it was getting hard to breath. He was getting frustrated, I could tell. He called out, "Ruban! I need help, get in here!"
Now I was officially scared. Ruban was Ramond's younger brother, but more brutal that Ramond was. Ruban came in, and, after analysing the situation, came over and pulled me off the bed, throwing me to the floor. He had dug his nails into my arm, and it hurt. I huddled in a courner, scared, embarrased, waiting for what was going to come. Ramond took out the paintings from under the bed, gazed at each in turn. He handed a couple to Ruban, who glared at me, looking as if he wanted to come over and hit me. Finaly, he could no longer contain himself.
"So, you think that I'm a devil? Is that it?" Turning to me with slow, menacing stiffness. Still huddled in the courner, I shook my head. I scrunched up even more as I hear the footfalls on the wood floor come closer.