Nadalia cautiously opened the trunk’s lid and peered out. It seemed every bone in her body throbbed, but she was alive. She looked around with just the crack of the lid opened. She could see no movement, the only sound was a crow making a fuss in the tree nearby. Nadalia opened the lid a little further and looked out at a tree trunk not too far from her. The trunk appeared to be on it’s side. It was a miracle that the lid hadn’t opened before now.
Nadalia opened the lid even further and cautiously looked around. There was still no movement, but now she could hear moaning. She slid out of the trunk, keeping low to the ground and looked around to get her bearings. From where she was at, there was a small hole where the trunk had landed. It was a dip among the rolling hills in the area, a small crevice in the ground really. From here, she could see the trees around her, and the road, but could remain low to the ground, well hidden from danger. Another miracle in itself.
Nadalia looked toward the road searching for the wagon. She could make out the wagon wheels spinning in the air. The wagon must have tipped when the horses bolted. She began to crawl closer to the road staying as low to the ground as she could get. She could hear moaning which seemed to come from the wagon, and the closer she got to the wagon, the louder the moans were. She reached the edge of the road, and took cover in a low dip near the wagon. She could make out Master Grenlins boots trapped under the wagon. The moans came again, and she knew they were coming from him. She stepped backwards, hoping to creep away and a twig snapped.
“Whose there? Help me! Help me!”
Nadalia wanted to run, she wanted to flee as fast and as far away as she could, but she couldn’t just leave him, cruel man or not. She crept closer, walking the edge of the wagon for cover. Master Grenlins was trapped under the front of the wagon, his legs clearly pinned down. There was blood spilling on to the ground, and from where she was standing she could see a nasty gash on his head. He wouldn’t survive long like this, and she would have to walk past his head and his arms before she could get away from this side of the wagon. She began to back away, but he spotted her before she could get away. “Nadalia? What are you doing here?”
She started to run, but it was too late. She had gotten within arms length of him. He grabbed her skirt, yanking her to the ground. She scrambled to get up, but he held firmly. “Help me, child. I can’t move. There is forgiveness for those who repent. Show your repentance for being out here. Help me and you shall live. Leave me, and you shall feel my full wrath.”
Nadalia pulled away again, she could feel her skirt ripping. There was a chance of escaping. She pulled again and again, each time tearing her dress a little more. Grenilns tried to pull harder, but it was useless. His body was weak. Finally she was free. She stepped out of arms link and looked down at his large body, now weak and powerless. She wondered how he felt to be in such a weakened state, to not be able to help himself or get help from someone else. It served him right for treating others in such a way, for beating others down and weakening them.
But nonetheless she could not leave him. Her parents, the little she could remember of them, had taught her better than that.
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