A Winter Story: No One Else by Rohan de Silva

In celebration of Christmas, I invited readers to write a story about the painting below. Enjoy the short stories submitted and have a Merry Christmas!

No One Else

Rohan de Silva

“Can you promise you’ll live?”

Claudia glared at her father, willing herself not to cry. The horrible mix of feelings – fear, sadness, anger – played havoc across her young features. It wouldn’t do to cry, she was too old for that. Crying was for children, and Claudia was an adult, or wanted to be treated as one, which was almost the same thing at her age.

“No, my sweet girl, I cannot promise you that.” Arcangelo sighed and sat down at the table. He started to run his hands through his dark hair, and got about half way, his head in his hands for a moment. He was exhausted. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of preparation:  gathering weapons and mounts, making sure there were provisions and a supply train to support the army; and hardest of all, finding men willing to fight for a cause not their own. The company he had gathered was camped in the small wood that lay to the west of his small home, and at dawn they would depart – even now Arcangelo fervently hoped their courage would not desert them, that his own resolve would not falter.

“Then why must you go? Can’t someone else?” Claudia broke into his tired thoughts. 

“There is no one else. They are all alone in this fight, and if we don’t ride to their aid, they will die”

Claudia shuddered at the finality in her father’s voice. She glanced over at her mother, who was sitting by the fire, darning the big hole in Claudia’s favorite red cloak, the one with the gold embroidery along the edges.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she snapped at her mother.  Her mother looked at her a long moment, and went back to her darning. Claudia guiltily realized that her mother’s face was drawn, and her eyes looked like they’d been crying. This made Claudia’s own eyes prick, and it was only by grinding her teeth and scowling that she stopped herself from bursting into tears.

“I don’t understand. Why can’t they handle their own problems? Why do you—”

She was cut off by her father standing so suddenly that his chair almost fell over. He looked intensely at his wife, took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was gentle and patient again, as it had been through this whole long conversation with his only daughter.

“They cannot, Claudia. They are unable to. Their enemy is too strong, and without help, there is no hope for them. As to why it must be us, why it must be me . . . they have no allies closer than three months to them that they can turn to for relief, no one that can gather an army before the summer, and by that time, it will be too late. You must understand - we are their closest and their only hope. “

She was so proud of her father, so scared at the thought of never seeing him again, so angry that he was the person he was. The tears welled up, threatening to overwhelm her.  She grabbed the cloak where it was sitting on her mother’s lap and dashed out of the house.

*****

“Claudia, come back! “

Her mother rose and went to the door. “It’s almost sundown.”

“Let her go, Julia. She’ll calm down, and she won’t go far.” Arcangelo pointed to the family’s boots that sat by the door, all three pairs of them.  “Let the winter cool that hot blood of hers.”

Julia closed the door, but stood by the window, staring out at the beautiful bleak landscape. Her husband walked over and put his arms around her.

“She gets that from you, you know” she said softly to him.

“Yes. At some point I hope the good sense she gets from you will keep it in check. ”

He kissed the back of her head, walked over to the stove, and poured a bowl of stew.

Julia shook her head at the offer, and continued standing at the window, looking earnestly out across to the wood, then up at the sky.

“It’s going to snow again. I hope the child doesn’t decide to go down to the lake,” she said. She cast a worried glance over at her husband, who was sitting at the table, thoughtfully sipping his stew. He caught the look.

“You’re right, my love.” he said. “We’ll give her till the end of the bowl and go after her.”

*****

Claudia shivered as she stomped her way over the field, following a retreating sun, toward her favorite path through the wood.  Winter had come suddenly, without its usual warning, stealing away time from autumn. Claudia thought about the war and the sudden and urgent call for aid that was stealing her father from her. The thought made her colder than the chilly wind that had sprung up in the darkening afternoon.

She followed the well-known path through the woods.  At times she could hear the sounds of the camp; the low murmur of voices, the sounds of horses, of meals being prepared; and once or twice she saw the glow of campfires through the trees. She paid them no mind. They were all part of something she was trying not to think about, at least not until she got to where she was headed, for fear of crying again.

When she cleared the wood, and got to the bridge, it was starting to snow. The little stream was still gurgling along, though Claudia could see the building up of ice along the banks, underneath the snow. Everything was out of order, she thought angrily. Usually the snow was the last to arrive, most times months after the first frost, covering everything that had become hard, dry, and drab with a fresh cold newness. Not so this year. It seemed to Claudia that one minute it was autumn, the next minute everything was covered in snow, and the rest of nature did its best to clumsily catch up.

She crossed the small field beyond the bridge, and stood at the shore of the lake, where she liked to skip stones across the water in summer, but only when no one was around. Everything looked so calm and peaceful. It made her want to scream, and she was about to, when she heard a sound that made her start, so unexpected was it, out here in the middle of a snowy landscape.

It sounded like a cat.

“Kitty, kitty  . . . kitty?”

Nothing.

She felt a little foolish. Surely there couldn’t be a cat out here. She began to walk back towards the bridge, toward home, suddenly feeling very cold, and realizing that she was only wearing her thin house shoes.

She heard the faint “meow” again. This time it was directly behind her. She walked back to the edge of the lake, and peered out. Night would be here soon, and there wasn’t much light left. She squinted at the mounds and drifts of snow on the lake, looking for some sign of movement.

Then it caught her eye.

A small cat, no, a kitten. 

A little orange kitten.  It seemed to be trying to make its way to her, though it clearly was hard going, in the deep soft snow. She kept calling to it, but she could tell it was slowing down, using all of its energy to get out of each drift it sank into, only to sink into the next one, and the snow was starting to come down heavier now.

Claudia knew that the ice on the lake couldn’t be that thick yet. She wondered if she should go for help, perhaps to one of the camps, to the men from her father’s company. Looking back over her shoulder, across the field, over the stream, she could just glimpse the glow in the trees that must come from their campfires, like the glow of fireflies in the summer.  Some of them seemed to be moving, though no doubt that was a trick her eyes were playing on her in the twilight. She looked back out to the kitten. The light was fading fast, and she could barely see the darker fur against the snow.  If she went for help, and even if they did come help her, she might never find the kitten in the snow.

She began to make her way out to it. The lake seemed fairly solid, though every now and again the ice would groan, which made Claudia’s heart miss a beat each time.  She kept her eyes focused on the little dark lump, and despite once or twice almost losing a shoe in the snow, she reached the little orange and white striped beast. It had rallied enough to be able to stand, and sniffed at finger as she knelt beside it.  It appeared friendly, or at least too tired, cold, and hungry to be unfriendly.

It seemed to make up its mind and gratefully nuzzled her hand.

“Claudia”

Claudia froze, looking down at the kitten in astonishment. Had the cold gotten to her? Was she losing her mind out here on this frozen lake?

“Claudia”

She stood up slowly, keeping a suspicious eye on the kitten, who hadn’t moved, and was looking up at her, blinking his trust.

“Claudia!”

She realized with a start that it was her father’s voice, and spun round to see him on the shore of the lake, holding a lantern. She took a step toward him, and raised her hand to wave.

And her right foot sank into the ice.

*****

“Stop! Claudia, don’t move!”

Arcangelo saw the sudden movement and realized what had happened. He also knew that if she struggled or flailed around, the ice around her might completely collapse.

“Did you break through the ice?”

“No, Father.”

Claudia could still feel her right foot, which meant it had not plunged through the ice into the water. It did feel slushy, though, and there was no telling how much soft ice there was between her foot and the cold, cold water beneath.

“Claudia, listen to me. You need to bend down, and put your hands and left knee on the snow around you. Once you’ve done that, slowly pull your right leg out of the hole, and crawl towards me. Don’t try to stand up, just crawl”

Arcangelo lifted his lantern up high to cast as much light as possible across the lake. His wife anxiously took his arm and held her own lantern up as they watched their daughter make her way towards them.

“She’ll make it.” He said encouragingly, but Julia could hear the relief mixed with fear in his voice.

Claudia turned back, and started to move away from them.

“Claudia, this way, child.” Her mother called frantically to her.

They saw her turn again, this time back towards them. As she got closer, she seemed to be holding something in her left arm, as she was only using her right arm to crawl.

“What are you doing? Use both hands!”

“I can’t!” Claudia shouted back, though she was almost out of breath, what with the scare and crawl over the mounds of snow. “It’s a kitten, Mama.”

“Heavens, that child will be the death of me, Arcangelo.”

Once Claudia got close enough to the shore for it to be safe, she slowly got to her feet, and carefully walked the rest of the way. Her father grabbed her up in a hug, somewhat squashing the kitten, who didn’t seem to mind, and there was much hugging and kissing, and crying on her mother’s part, and once that was done, Julia took her by the shoulders and gave her a small shake.

“You know that ice was nowhere near safe to walk on. If you had gone through, there wouldn’t have been anything we could have done.”  Julia teared-up again at the thought of this and hugged her daughter. And then gave her another little shake.

“I know, Mama. But the kitten was floundering in the snow drifts and couldn’t move much further. There was no one else to help it. It would have died if I hadn’t . . .”

Claudia looked up at her father.

“ . . . if I hadn’t . . .”  Her mouth was dry, and she felt like she was choking. She blinked at the sudden tears in her eyes, unable to finish her sentence, and this time, unable to blink those tears away.

Arcangelo opened his arms to her, and she flung herself into them, sobbing.

He held her close.

“My sweet girl,” he murmured, knowing that she understood.

The End