14 Years Earlier -
The market bustled with activity on that clear summer day as the festival brought people from far and wide to enjoy the day. Vendors, hawking everything from sweets to finely crafted cloaks and jewelry, lined the streets, competing with each other for business.
Rossiath watched with childish fascination as a small group of revelers passed her parents stall, talking over each other jovially as they made their way up the road. Using the table to hoist herself higher, she continued to watch them until a couple blocked her view, wanting to look at the pies her mother had set out.
“Down you go, Rose,” her mother said, nudging her to a small stool they kept just for her, before turning to see about her customers. The lady, seemingly debating over two pies, smiled up at Rosabella. “She's adorable,” the lady said. “How old is she?”
“Thank you m'lady, Rose just turned 3 and quite a handful at times. Did you want to taste any of the pies?” Rosabella added, pointing out a tray with samples of the pies laid out neatly. “I've apple, bilberry and strawberry today.”
“Oh, how lovely!” the lady exclaimed, moving over with her husband to sample the wares, the two of them getting into a friendly debate over which pie they thought was best.
Rossiath turned to watch a colorful ribbon, caught on the leg of a nearby table, waving in the breeze. She got down from her stool, crawling under her parent's' table, to go free it, delighted by the vivid blue shimmering in the light. As she reached out to grab it with her tiny hands, a gust of wind grabbed it, freeing it and carried it a short ways up the street before it drifted to the ground.
Giggling, Rossiath toddled forward, again trying to capture the scrap of ribbon, only to have it snatched from her once more by the wind which seemed to be playing a game of keep away with her. However, the tiny girl was determined now that she would have the ribbon and chased after it, dodging tables and legs in her attempt to capture it.
After several attempts, Rossiath's fingers wrapped around the ribbon and grinning triumphantly, she turned to show her mother – only to find she couldn't see her, or even her parent's stall. Her eyes scanned the road, looking for her parents, but the sea of people passing by made it impossible for the toddler to see anything.
A man, hurrying past and not seeing her, brushed against her, knocking Rossiath down. He didn't pause his long stride to look back, and disappeared in the crowd. Rossiath fell Wwth a little yelp of surprise, and her eyes relayed the pain and confusion as the crowds moved around her, unaware of her presence. She scrambled to her feet again, the ribbon still clutched tightly in her chubby hand, as she began to move towards where she'd last seen her parents. Then paused; was it that way? She turned her head to look around in confusion.
She moved forward – stopped and turned. She lifted her head, standing on her toes, but it didn't help – she simply couldn't see over all the people. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes and she stumbled forward, pushed by someone from behind who glanced down at her before stepping around her to keep going.
She started forward again and, finally seeing a clear path where few people were walking, darted out between a group of people into the road. Overwhelmed by the crowds, Rossiath didn't see the wagon approaching until it was closing in on her. Her eyes wide, she froze; opening her tiny mouth she tried to scream as the horse got closer but nothing came out.
A cry came from somewhere nearby, “There's a baby in the road!!” but Rossiath barely heard it over the pounding of her heart. She closed her eyes and ...
Rossiath bolted straight up, a whimper on her lips and she tried to recall the vague images of the nightmare but, as always it seemed to elude her as soon as she awoke. Funny, she thought, she could almost hear the sound of hooves pounding on the pavement.
As the fog from her nap cleared, Rossiath furrowed her brow and listened. That wasn't her imagination, and it wasn't hooves either. Rather it was coming from Rosabella's kitchen, as though someone were banging the pans around.
Quickly, Rossiath slipped from her bed and headed towards the door of her small bedchamber. Perhaps her father had returned, seeking something in the kitchen. He didn't spend much time there, and was likely to be lost. Chuckling, she opened the door and froze.
That wasn't her father. Who it was she couldn't tell, for their back was turned and it appeared their face was covered by some sort of mask. 'A thief!' Rossiath thought, covering her mouth to stifle a yelp as she stepped back behind her door.
What was she going to do? She looked around her room for something – anything – with which to defend herself. Her eye caught sight of the opened window over her bed and, making an decision, she raced to it and started to climb out. She'd run for help, that's what she'd do!
Behind her, she could hear the door slam open and a rough voice call out. “'ey there!! What ye' be doin' girl!” She felt a hand reach out and grab her leg, and she kicked out. Her foot connected with something, causing a muffled grunt and thump as the man momentarily lost his balance. He was on his feet again in moments, but it was enough.
Rossiath tumbled out of the window onto the grass below, striking a rock as she landed face first in the grass. She scrambled to her feet, blood dripping from her chin, and ran ...
