Most of us long to "Be" but when the path gets too costly, or steep, we take solace in what we "Have." Remove the trappings of what we own, and then what is the sum of us?
They were the survivors, abandoned by the allies who swore to protect, in...
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Both men were tired, the overcast skies had allowed them the luxury to keep moving by day, and they had made the return journey swiftly. It would be good to reach the camp and rest up, even better to break the news of their find to his waiting men. Not long now Bennett puffed, the familiar rocky rise of his desert stronghold coming into view.
The fortified city had been more than he had anticipated, never before had his vicious party laid eyes on such a prize. He fretted with the thought of just how he would gain access to such a well defended place, with his meager armaments, and too few men. On his careful reckoning there had to be at least one hundred well armed soldiers waiting within its solid walls.
Sure, his own warriors were brave and fierce, and he knew steadfastly that they would not balk at this new challenge. However his responsibility as a good leader tore at him, making him realize that he would have to tread a fine line between the reckless wishes of his men, and careful tactical planning. If they were to succeed in this difficult act of plunder. The remainder of his journey was taken up for the most part with this rumination, and the dull ache of his weary body due to the hard march home.
Renard ran doggedly by his side, still Bennett had detected no evidence of this man's insubordination. Recognizing he had been edgy lately, and he acknowledged that he was probably seeing things that were not there. With so many pressures it was very easy to see things, where sometimes there was nothing but mere shadows. Well, they would be home by dusk, thankfully just ahead of the malevolent storm that was brewing to the southwest. Racing the rising wind that threw the sand at their backs, pushing on ahead for home.
*****
The storm clouds appeared closer now and more threatening, the wind on the rise, driving the sand before it. It no longer felt comfortable for Raissa to stay brooding where she was, so she collected her sorry thoughts, making her way back slowly to the centre of the camp. Carlos was nowhere to be seen thankfully.
Raissa felt she still needed a little more time to compose her wildly churning emotions before joining the others to help prepare the evening meal. Deciding at once to collect her thoughts in the privacy and sanctity of Sven's cabin. It was a relief to be out of the stinging wind, which was now howling through the camp with force. The slight woman struggled to pull the heavy door closed behind her, then all was comfortably still and dark. Much to her surprise and shock the realization she was not alone struck home.
The loaded question came out of the dark. "You have something to tell me Raissa?" Sven's familiar voice. She fought to see him in the gloom with eyes that would not obey. "Don't you?" The dark voice further encouraged. "You've been a bad girl, mmmm......Haven't you?"
Raissa was dumbstruck with fear, and she jumped as her master's calloused fingers alighted on her face ever so gently in a caress. Fear to a certain extent had always been her companion since being captured and brought here, but it had been a long while since she had felt this way, and she found that she no longer had the stomach for such feelings. It was always by far easier to comply.
