The
Enchanted by Elaine Cantrell
Her chest
filled with a pressure that threatened to choke her. The prince, her husband,
did not want her.
She jabbed
her heels into her mare’s flanks. The animal shot forward, giving Morgane the
illusion that she could run away from all her problems. Leaning forward, she
urged the mare on. The wind sang in her ears and the countryside blurred as she
called on the mare for more speed. She heard Alan calling to her, but she
refused to stop.
The mare
topped a hill and started to slow down, but Morgane would have none of it.
“Go!” she cried. She slapped the mare’s rump, and the horse plunged down the
hill, setting off miniature landslides where her hooves dug in.
Surprisingly,
they made it safely to the bottom of the hill. Morgane turned and saw Alan
pelting his way down the hill on his big gray stallion.
She urged
the mare forward and turned her toward the still forest on her right, the
scenery blurring around her. I will not
stop! The animal slowed a bit to avoid hitting trees, but she was still
running which was the important thing.
Gradually,
though, Etheswitha slowed down. Morgane wished they could have run forever, but
she refused to kill her horse. She pulled up and dismounted so the mare could
rest. She stroked the animal’s sweaty, white neck and cooed, “You’re a fine,
girl, yes you are.” The mare snorted and blew.
After a few
minutes Morgane noticed how quiet the forest was. She only heard the soft
sighing of the pine trees as the wind rustled through
them. No bird song reached her ears. It was dark here too. The trees were so
think she was having a hard time even seeing the sky.
She shivered
as a chilly breeze lifted her hair. Someone
is behind me! She whirled
around but saw no one. Wait! Did she spy movement through the trees? Is it Alan? “Alan!” she cried, but the
prince didn’t answer.
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Thanks so much for featuring The Enchanted.
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