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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Renard sat out of the cold wind, his back against a ruined wall, autumn was here he complained, rubbing his frozen hands brusquely together, as he took his turn at the watch. Here he had ample time to reflect on his work of the past nine days, it had been a risky endeavor but he had accomplished much. Renard worried though that Sven's eyes watched him, he had no wish to arouse the suspicions of the over officious second in command. He would have to be careful.
There were also other reasons to be nervous, Aran, Sven's younger brother was behaving strangely as well. The two siblings were brittle in their demeanor toward one another which was most unusual, both with tempers ready to flare, fracturing the usually strong unity within the group. This coupled with the unpleasant necessity of laying low.
So close were they to the farming settlement keeping constant vigil, they could not risk making a fire, and as a consequence they were neither warm or comfortable, and all did not relish their diet of uncooked rations. The group had utilized the ruins of an abandoned settlement, sheltering amongst this wreckage of corrugated iron, wooden uprights, and broken bricks. Waiting and watching their quarry, taking everything in.
Renard sighed as his eyes wandered the ever familiar valley below of his home, how he wished he was there now in the comfort of his old room, surrounded by all those he knew and loved. Yet a cruel irony, here he was instead, as usual, cold, hungry, a predator lurking on the fringes. Yes, that is what he had become. All in the name of necessity.
He felt remorse at all he had witnessed and participated in during his time with this lawless horde. Perhaps he should have done it differently, knowing if he had, he would have ceased breathing long ago. He prayed that the arrow, along with the note he had attached had indeed reached the eyes of his father Stephan, and that he had taken the warning seriously. Renard scanning the valley settlement below for any sign of extra vigilance or military build up. Dread was his feeling as he saw nothing to denote that his warning had been heeded.
Renard had often argued with his father about such issues. The elder man refusing to acknowledge the threat of others military might. Renard constantly entreating him that he must do so. Still it appeared that his father kept his dogged course, blind to the avaricious intentions of his neighbors, positive that peace and diplomacy were the best way forward in this dark age. All the young man could do was hope that if they went in, none below who knew him would reveal his true identity to Sven or the others, that he may have the advantage to work his plans in secret.
Still he was anxious, and rightly so sensing that death and treachery stalked at his shoulder. With these cheerless thoughts he huddled down, avoiding the worst of the wind. Drawing his soft hide coat more tightly around him, comforted by the sounds of his horse as he cropped the sparse grasses close by. Praying fervently to his god that lady luck would continue to stay with him awhile.
*****
It was mid morning on the following day, the light clouds scudded swiftly across the cool blue sky, the cold wind of yesterday had not abated. It was Sven's turn at the watch, and he was a troubled soul. Things had not sat well between he and his brother since the start of their foray to this place.
