Chapter 1 - Daniel
Editorial comments welcome!
1
Daniel
Daniel was old enough to find his own way around the castle. True, he wasn’t quite old enough to be allowed to wander through the corridors alone. But he was old enough to be clever, and clever enough to slip away while his nursemaids weren’t looking. With the exception of this tendency, Daniel was a good little Angelis. He rarely made a noise, and became so displeased if his wingtips dragged in the dust. (This is very important for Angelis children and their parents, for wings are much harder to keep clean than hands and faces.) He was polite and put away his toys when he was finished with them, and would spend hours looking out the window in a thoughtful way. This particular habit made him seem so like a little old man that his nurses often forgot that he needed supervision at all. It was at these times that the little boy would tread softly across the room and out the door while they were gossiping.
Being very high-born, and into a very rich family, Daniel had more nurses than he could keep track of. He called them all “Lady,” which made them giggle and fawn over him. As for other children, Daniel did not know any. He spent most the time that he was not wandering in the company of the Ladies, and he sat on his father’s right for the evening meal. Father was important. He was so important that people came from across the city to be in his presence. There they were every evening-dressed in fine clothes and with their wings immaculately groomed. The rich ladies put pearls in their hair and gilded the tips of their feathers, and the men were so attentive to Daniel’s father that they forgot all about the ladies.
Sometimes, during these rare visits with his father, Daniel would stare at the ladies, wondering if any of them were his mother, or if his mother looked like them. She has to have dark hair, he thought, because some of my hair is dark, and my father certainly didn’t give that to me. It was true. Daniel’s father had hair that was so pale it looked nearly white, and seemed to glow as he walked in the light afforded by the huge, arched windows in the bridge corridor. Daniel himself was born with a tuft of white hair on his forehead, but as he had grown, it had lengthened to a silky white streak that arched over his left eyebrow and curved delicately across his pale cheek. The rest of his hair was a rich chocolate brown.
Then, when dinner was over, Daniel would stand with his father, and down the mighty length of the table, the others would rise as well. They would turn their faces down and Father would nod to them, and together Daniel and his father would turn and walk back down the hallway that was a bridge over the city. Daniel loved these very short walks. He took long strides to keep up with his father, and the warm colors of sunset would wash over them, and the whole city below them would appear like a giant bed of coals, and the garden and its hedge maze like a grate in front of it. The guards walked ahead and behind, and their armor shone like it was on fire. Then, they would reach the end of the bridge hall, and the east wing of the castle seemed dark and dreary after the sunlit walkway. Father would place his hand on Daniel’s shoulder or head, then tell him that he was a good boy, or give him a small gift or coin. And Daniel would nod respectfully and say, “Goodnight, Father,” and then the waiting nursemaids would take him to his room for the rest of the night.
On this particular morning, Daniel’s head was full of thoughts. He had been wondering lately about the habits of his father at times other than dinnertime. Did he have a room and attendants as well? Or was he over in the west wing, meeting with foreign lords? Perhaps he was outside in the garden, gathering flowers, or catching insects. Daniel rather enjoyed both of these activities, but spent so precious little time pursuing them. After all, the garden was a dirty place, and he did so despise soiled wings and grass-stains on his knees.
But, it seemed as good a place as any to start. Daniel crept to the stairway and stood on his tiptoes to look over the white stone railing. (It was only a bit taller than he.) Seeing no one, he began to skip down the stairs, running his small hand over the smooth, cold banister. When he reached the bottom of the long spiral, he dashed to the closest window. The blue velvet drapes pooled at the floor and glittered with crystals so that they looked like the starry sky. Ducking behind them, Daniel caught his breath and peeped over the window ledge, his eyes wide and almost as dark a blue as the soft velvet of the curtains.
The little boy waited. He didn’t see anyone in the garden. Weren’t there always people in the halls and courtyards this time of day? Where were the servants, and the groundskeepers? He squinted and peered over the tops of the hedges that made up the labyrinth to the outer wall. Something glittered…was that movement? It was! He could see the shining domes of helmeted heads just bobbing over the tops of the distant bushes. And they were coming closer. He watched the sun shining off the helmets until the men - soldiers, most likely - were almost out of the labyrinth. They must have been foot soldiers, as they were not flying. The heavy plates of armor they wore on their wings impeded flight. Finally, they made it through to the courtyard and ran, full speed, toward the glass doors that led back inside the castle. Daniel quickly ducked his head out of view from the window. He pressed his small downy wings close to his back and tried to squeeze all the air out of his lungs to make himself as tiny as possible. Already being a small child, he could not be seen, and the men dashed past him and up the spiral stairway.
What could they be doing? Daniel had never seen them anywhere but standing guard at the doors, or the edges of the garden, or escorting his father throughout the grounds. Then, the little Angelis boy had a thought that made his insides squirm unpleasantly. Perhaps he was in trouble! Daniel had never been in trouble before. Even when the nursemaids had caught him wandering off, they only took him by the hand and led him back to his bedroom. Perhaps Father had heard of his misdeeds, and perhaps he had ordered his soldiers to punish him! In some of the stories the nurses read to him, soldiers and knights sought out wrongdoers and killed them. Perhaps they are coming to kill me, he thought.
Pulling two panels of the curtain apart just enough to see out of one eye, Daniel looked up the staircase. The fourth floor could easily be seen from where he stood, and he saw a pair of silver-armored wingtips disappear around the corner. To my room, he thought. They are going to my room to kill me! Daniel ducked out from behind the curtains and sprinted toward the big double doors. If his death was at hand, staying in the castle would certainly bring it more quickly. There were plenty of places in the garden to hide. Daniel ran. And he kept running until his lungs ached and his heart pounded in his chest, and the sound of both his breath and heart filled his ears until he could hear nothing more. He turned corner after corner of the labyrinth of green until finally, he could not run any further. He crouched into the corner made by two bushes and hoped the world could not hear him as loudly as he could.
After a few minutes, his heart slowed and his breathing was hushed and soft. His ears seemed to open again and he could hear voices somewhere close. But he had run so far…certainly he had gotten far away from his bedroom and the dreaded soldiers. But what were these voices, and why were they making such frightened noises? Daniel put his hands on the ground and began to creep forward on all fours. He needed to know where he was, and he wouldn’t discover until he found an exit. Trying not to think about the grass-stains he was making on his white trousers, Daniel crawled forward slowly and silently, staring into the bush on his right. Perhaps if there was a small space where the leaves were not so thick, he could peek through without disturbing them.
He followed the twists and turns of the maze, always keeping to the wall on his right. He was so very clever for his age, and he knew that even if it took a long time, he would escape eventually. He kept his face toward the leaves, though, and they deposited cool drops of moisture on his face. Was it so early in the morning that the dew still covered some of the leaves? It must be so. There were shaded parts of the garden where the sun didn’t appear until afternoon. He must be in one of those parts.
As he turned another corner, his hands felt cool and wet as well, and the moisture soaked into the knees of his trousers. It was pleasant after his long, hot run. He clutched the blades of grass with his fingers as he moved forward, pulling them just loosely enough to let them slip through his little fingers, leaving all the cool wetness on his hands. Finally, he stopped. Here was a little place where a branch had not grown as evenly as the others, and thus left a gap the size of his fist which could be seen through. Danny held his breath and looked. A moment later, his heart sank. It was the courtyard of the garden…the very one he had left! And now he must be very near its entrance. But it was not as he had left it. Now the courtyard was full of people - of soldiers, and of strangers and visitors, not the people he knew were allowed in the east wing!
Then, the pieces fell together in his mind. This was not the courtyard he had just left. It was the west courtyard, where Father’s dignitaries and guests were allowed! He had made it after all. Daniel had never been to the west garden. Usually, Daniel was not even allowed in the west part of the castle because it wasn’t as heavily protected as the private, eastern wing. The exception was the evening meal, where he was dressed up and presided over the table with his father.
Father…thought Daniel…I must not let Father find me! He will be so upset with me, and he will call his guards to kill me! (Pardon, but I must interrupt at this point. If you have ever been in trouble, you know exactly how angry your parents can be with you. However, I assume if you are reading this, then they have never been so angry as to kill you. Such was the case with our little Daniel. But, knowing so little of his own father and the way the world outside his castle went ‘round, he assumed that he would be murdered on the spot, and thus was very afraid of meeting his father far more than the soldiers.) And so he peered through the hedge until he was sure his father was not amongst the strangers, and then he started moving forward again.
If you had been watching at this point, I don’t think you would have been able to tell whether he felt or saw the thing first - the thing that was now blocking his path. I know, and I can tell you that he felt it first. His palm fell on something soft and warm, and his fingertips slipped in a mess of what felt like the moss in a pond - the stuff that looks so soft and wavy in the water, but is slimy and wadded up after you’ve dragged it out with a stick. In an increment of time much smaller than you could have seen, his blue eyes darted to the thing in front of him, and he cried out very softly.
It was a mass of feather, flesh and bone, all covered in sticky red blood. His palm had fallen on the first joint of the wing, and his fingertips in the wet down. Daniel recoiled and jumped up. But, once he had done this, he saw that both hands were reddish-brown and sticky, and the knees of his trousers were covered with the stuff. Blood. He had been crawling in blood for nearly the entire length if this particular corridor and he could now see the trail he had made behind him. The sun was now climbing higher in the sky and the shadow he had been crawling in was now lit and shining with bright blood.
Daniel did not often cry. This time, it was because he was too afraid to cry. You see, when you and everyone you know have great fluffy wings growing out from between the shoulders, seeing one without its owner is much the same as seeing an arm or a foot detached. Combining this with the copious amounts of blood, and the boy’s mere five years, it was a terrifying experience. Daniel stood and stared at it for two full minutes. He could faintly hear the people in the garden, but his heart was pounding in his ears again, and he was too stunned to listen. The thing smelled like nothing Daniel had ever smelled before, and it made him nauseous. The taste of it seemed to linger in the back of his mouth. There were bits of gleaming white bones sticking out in the sunlight, and clinging to them were ropes of sinew and dirty bits of feather. When finally Daniel moved, it was to turn away and retch on the lawn, shaking and terrified. This was when the tears came to his eyes, and they started coming faster and faster. He cried, but he was terrified of making a noise, so he held the sobs in his throat until it burned and ached and made the tears run down his face even faster.
Now, in trying to be quiet and straining to listen for footsteps or voices, he could hear the people in the courtyard.
“Where is he?” A gruff voice asked.
Daniel froze and his tears stopped falling. They knew he was not in his bedroom. The knot in his throat melted, and he pushed the disembodied wing out of his mind. If they caught him, perhaps they’d have his wings torn off. How terrible, to lose them before they were even big enough to fly with! Strange, the way a child’s mind can protect itself from bad things. He stood up, stepped around the wing as if it was nothing but a watering can in his way, and started to run toward what he believed to be the exit. If he ran as fast as he could, perhaps he would take them all by surprise, and escape to the city! There he would be taken in by a gang of street urchins, and he would learn to steal his food and charm ladies! (He had heard about street urchins in stories.) The plan would work, if only the next bend brought him within sight of the exit.
He was a lucky boy. The gap in the wall that led to the west courtyard was there in plain view, and he ran faster than ever toward it. As he ripped through into the courtyard, though, he was greeted by an unwelcome sight. There was Father, and the look on his face was terrifying.