In the dead of night a mother watches over her child.  The unrest in her husband’s men was at a horrendous level.  The rumors of her husband’s supposed necromancy polarized the city.  Those who practiced the dark arts grew bold.  The rest f the community grew angered and riots had ensured.  Recently Lady Eleanor’s nights had been plagued by a dream that her husband’s home would be burned to the ground after the Yule feast.  For six months she taught her servant, a gypsy woman called Rosina how to read and write and how to teach her infant daughter Cerridwen about her heritage.

Cerridwen was only a babe in arms only two moons old.  The Lady Eleanor sighed.  “Rosina is all ready?”  She asked.  The servant nodded.  “Yes my Lady.”  The servant nodded as she looked about her.  “She will be looked after well?”  Lady Eleanor asked.  “My cousin, Leah is a good woman she will raise her well my lady.”  She stated as she picked the child up.

“You have been a good friend to me, Rosina.”  She smiled.  “I only wish that it could have ended differently.  I have arranged for a horse to meet you at the old bridge.”  She smiled wistfully as she kissed her daughter one last time and opened the secret passage for her maid to leave the castle.

“My lady, come with us.  We can hide you.”   Rosina begged.  The noblewoman shook her head.  “If I am not here the soldiers will search everywhere for us.”  She smiled as she gave the maid a gentle shove out the door and  slammed it.

Rosina looked at the stout oak panel and sighed she knew it would be the last time she saw her mistress again.

Rosina hurried out of the castle and into the Eastern woods to the old bridge.  There as her mistress had promised was a dapple mare saddled and ready to go.

Rosina mounted up and started to ride away, in the distance the flames licked the night sky, fiery orange against a velvety black night sky.