The Carriage

It was during the summer of 303AC that my father finally settled down and told me a story from when he arrived in the court of Castellajoux.

He was waiting for a carriage in the great winter storm to get home from the Hivreois palace. When the vehicle finally arrived, he grasped onto its railing and scaled its steps to glimpse at the great crowd within: a hundred men and women crammed into the carriage. The driver roared at him from the front: "It's full."

My father, a stubborn man he was, grasped onto the side of the carriage and secured himself on the steps to ride along no matter how crammed it was. The coach passed over lakes of fire, through fields of battle and through tunnels pitch black. Had this poor man let loose of the carriage for a single second he would have fallen off to be trampled or worse.

It did not help him that he was hated from both sides. Those within the carriage laughed at his desperate attempt to clung to its side, whereas those below wished he'd fall off and leave them place to ascend.

After a few stops he could finally get a foothold in the doorway entrance to the interior of the carriage. He was no longer under the threat of falling off. While those below grew accustomed to him and even had a friendly attitude by that time, all within the carriage considered him the recent arrival, an intruder to be expelled.

With one lucky turn of events, someone stumbled into him and pushed him inside. He got a hold of one of the loops hanging from above to keep himself in place, though still suffering from the occasional stranglehold pressed against the walls or the many umbrellas stabbing into him from all sides.

Pressed further and further inside as men and women jumped on and off the carriage, he managed to unbutton his coat, reach into his pocket and light his sigg even. With his free hand he finally had the opportunity to fulfill the calls of the conductor to purchase a ticket proper.

Within the stinking crowd of men he pushed himself towards seating on the side of the carriage, finally settling and finding himself comfortable. He shuffled closer and closer to the single window that gaped on the side, a desperate goal though ever-so-near.

He reached it. He stretched his legs and exhaled a sigh, eyes looking out at the winter strom through the glass that was littered with a flower of ice. There was nothing to see outside and he sighed. He looked over at his clothes, finding all the evidence of the previous struggle that got him there: missing buttons, ripped pockets, stained sleeves.

As he was about to make himself comfortable, the carriage stopped and the conductor announced the end of the trip, offering this single man on the whole carriage a hand to help him rise and guide him outside.

He smiled and stepped off with a slow stride.

Adrienne d'Ortonnaise​

More stories:
Promotion
Arrival in Calemberg
The Forest Carnival
Reflections
Cemetery

The Character:
Adrienne d'Ortonnaise
House d'Ortonnaise​