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I fell backward into blackness.
    There was a loud, high pitched hum and everything went yellow. A figure, a silhouette, loomed up before me. My mother. Her hair was down and blew all around her face and shoulders, her arms stretched out to me. She said my name and pulled me toward her. I buried my face in her hair and breathed her in, she smelled of spring flowers. There was no pain in my leg anymore. She held me out at arm’s length, and then took my right hand trying to walk with me. Something was holding me back. She kept moving away from me until I knew that I’d have to let go. I screamed for her, weeping, our arms stretched out toward one another. She kissed the palm of my hand before it went dark.
    Opening my eyes, the sun hung directly overhead. I knew I had lain there for a long time. I heard my name being called nearby, but I could not speak. Slowly lifting myself up onto my elbows, I saw that my clothes were drenched. It was now impossible to tell if it was the horses blood, or my own, that darkened my skirt. My lips were dry and I longed for water, anything to cool my throat. A moment later, my eye lids felt so heavy, and I was alone in blackness again.
    At some point, I recall hearing a loud, thunderous noise, but I could not be sure if I imagined it, or not.
    When I opened my eyes again, I could see the ground, though it was growing dark. Everything was blurry. My eyes adjusted to dirt, moss, roots and trees moving by, and I realized that I was being carried on a horse. There was a man walking along side, his back to me, holding the reins. His hair was longer than was fashionable and lightly colored. He wore a soldier’s uniform.
    "Who are you?" I asked, and my voice seemed quiet. He did not answer.
    "Please, where are you taking me?" Again, my question was ignored.
    "Who are you?" I asked again, and I was overcome with the pain in my leg and cried out. The man did not turn or acknowledge my speaking to him or the anguish in my voice. I slipped into darkness again.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
     
    There was a bright, piercing light that stung my eyes. I was in a room I did not recognize and in a small bed with blankets to my chin. My body felt limp and it hurt to move the blankets away. There was a wrap around my leg. I remembered the dream of my mother kissing my hand and holding me. I felt such a pang of sadness at how real that vision was. I felt lost and gravely alone, but I was also overcome with anxiety. I did not know where I was or who the man was that had carried me away on his horse.
    It only took me a moment to decide to get out of bed. I moved my feet and pain shot up my leg. There wasn't a chance I'd be able to walk on it. This made me more nervous. Looking around me, the room was small, decorated with pinks and yellows, and I could only see a bush and flowers through the open window. There was a closed door and there was no telling what might be on the other side. I thought how worried my Aunt and Uncle must have been. At that moment there was a knock at the door, and I slumped back down into the pillows as a large old woman came in with a tray.
    "Oh, me dear! Ye’r awake, finally! Yeh came to me in such a sort, I weren't sure when ye'd come to! Yeh were ramblin' such nonsense, child!" She spoke with a thick and dramatic Cornish accent.
    "Where am I? Why have I been brought here?" I asked a little more harshly than I meant to. She scowled at me.
    "Well, ain't that the way to treat the hand that brings yeh food! Ne’er yeh mind, wee one, I see yer distraught at bein' in unknown territ’ry. Young Leo brung yeh to me late last night and me in me night dress!" she said with a big booming laugh that shook her large bosom.
    She continued, "Well, I ne’er seen so much blood outside deliverin' of a babe! That's me callin’, Miss. The good Lard seen fit to have me bring little angels to this world."
    "Did you say Leo?” I asked. “Do you mean Leonard Hilbourne?"
    "That’s right, wee lady. Me