Birth of a Rebel

I awoke early, that fateful morning, long before the sun showed its face and the birds began to sing. Like a little girl on Christmas morn, eager to discover what gifts await her, unbridled anticipation broke my slumber. I was twenty, a maid-in-waiting in the Earl of Whyte’s home, dearest friend of his youngest daughter, fiancé to his second son and living the dream of many commoners. I would marry my beloved in two months time and gain a name where formerly I had none. As an orphan, no one could ask for more blessings in life but a piece of my soul was still missing and for this I quested. I knew nothing of my heritage, neither the names of my parents or the path their life travelled. I was lost, with no foundation to base my life, until now, as fate again looked upon me favourably. At breakfast that morning, I was to meet my blind grandmother, my dreams seemingly within my grasp. But instead, they shattered abruptly that terrible morn. At a clandestine meeting in the poor quarter, the past undid the future. Now I faced an impossible decision as in near total darkness, one dying candle illuminated three items, a bridal gown, a rebel’s leathers and a peasant’s smock, with each garment representing one of three choices.

On the left was my bridal gown, the dress of my dreams. Fashioned of silk and adorned with small diamonds, I could believe I was a princess, not a commoner. My master, the man I considered as close to a father as any, had insisted on having it sewn for me. James, too, loved the dress, and he loved me, and I him. It was only natural to ask for his aid in my quest and he did not fail me. Parts of me wish he had searched for my family in vain but a woman was found who claimed to know the answers to my questions. What we discovered horrified not only me, but him. His father kept a terrible secret. Since that moment, my mind has seethed with anger, been consumed with hate and confusion in equal measure. Tears flowed often but love for James never abated. Could I live my life with James, bound as he is to his father in birth-born duty? I wanted to scream.

The second set of clothes, a rebel’s leathers, belonged to the mother I never knew. My father was the Captain of the Earl’s guard, well-liked and patriotic. My mother was a seamstress with a shop in the city and was frequently called upon by James’ mother. They were good friends despite their different status in the world. When the Earl sought an unusual alliance with enemies in the south, a rift occurred between the Earl and his wife, the King’s cousin, a woman devoted to the crown. Devastated by his actions, but loving her husband, James’ mother sought the aid of my parents. Incensed by the Earl’s plans, together they confronted him, only to be rebuffed and branded traitors. With no other course open to him, my father turned from loyal guard to rebel leader, my mother’s seamstress shop being the centre of operations. It was several months before the rebellion was discovered but not before my mother had me. I was one month old when she died, cut down in a moment of rage, as was my father. Now, many years distant, a new rebellion was stirring.

I glanced at the third set of garments, the peasant’s smock. They represented the coward’s way, to make a choice by making no choice and calling it wise. The idea of simply disappearing appealed, called to me strongly but I would not run from distasteful choices.

A knock on the door startled me. It was past midnight. Who would seek me at this hour?

‘Emily? Are you there?’ a man asked softly.

James. What would he be thinking? Does his father know we discovered his secret? Where does James’ loyalty lie now? Does he still love me? Glancing at the bridal gown, seeing my dreams die, I remained perfectly still. James should not be forced to choose between myself and his family but neither could I serve the man who killed my parents. Squaring my shoulders, I made my choice and waited for him to leave, weeping silently. He did not give up quickly but stayed by my door till the candle flickered out. I leapt to my feet as soon as he was out of earshot and changed into the rebel leathers. Where would I go? There was no where outside the Earl’s reach, except one. I hesitated. This choice seemed less palatable than the other three. I wanted to marry, have children and live a happy life, not be an outlaw chased the breadth of the country with the only safe place being the King’s court. Would the King listen to a maid? What would he do when he discovered the crime? Would James be safe?

‘Guards!’ barked the Earl’s voice suddenly at the end of the hallway. I jumped, my little courage streaming away like a leaf down a storm swept river. ‘Find my sons. Now! Emily too.’

My time was up. There was no thought of self-sacrifice or nobility when I made my decision. I am not a hero, merely a simple woman with a need for justice and safety. Over the top of the leathers I put on the peasants smock. I decided I might have need of both. Looking wistfully at the bride’s dress that may not get worn, I grabbed my satchel and rushed to the window, shimmying down the trellises to escape.

That was two nights ago. Pursuit was only hours in coming but so far I have remained alive, thanks to the rebels and my elderly grandmother who travels with me. I look forward to happier days but know they’ll be a long time coming. Fate may yet turn favourably towards me again.