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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The days were drawing out and the weather was growing warm, the frosty nights were now gone giving way to mild balmy ones, the relentless barrage of summer fast on the heels of the short spring. The precious corn and the squash had been sown and were just beginning to break the soil, presenting from the vivid orange sand in neat rows of vibrant green. Marcus and Father Andrew now also accompanied by Nathan had their work cut out to ensure the valuable crops survival. With weeding, watering, and pest control a high priority, if these crops were to fail, they would all be forced to survive on meat alone.
Aran, Bennett, Will, Gareth and lastly Dwayne had spent the afternoon preparing to move out. Sven had elected to stay behind and rule in Bennett's stead, a wise decision after the last misappropriation of the stores. The five man party had decided to scout a possible small settlement to the west within an easy two days ride. Many of the warriors who were to remain behind had been eager to go as well and felt great disappointment, only those who had mastered riding and using weapons proficiently from horseback were chosen. This small foray had to count, to fail this time would mean intolerable hardship they may never rise from.
Raissa watched the men depart, the horses and mules gingerly picking their way along the treacherous incline. Aran in the lead on the spirited grey mare, she was tossing her head wildly wanting to run. Bennett just behind him heavily armed on the large hunter, followed by Gareth on Renard's mount, and Dwayne and Will relegated to the mules. She sighed and commenced to fill the water vessels, her work never done, happy at least she would be spared a few evenings of Aran's unwanted attentions.
The men rode in silence across the sparse sands tracking to the northwest, each man's thoughts his own. Aran was very vigilant, constantly scanning the horizon, fighting against his fretting mare who desired free reign. They rode this way through the remainder of the afternoon the spectacular finale of the setting sun fiery red in their eyes.
The party reached the hidden haven of the oasis just before midnight, emerging from the narrow canyon into a hidden cradle of lush life. They carried plenty of rations so there was no need to hunt, setting up camp quickly and freeing the horses, letting them drink and graze in the fertile clearing. They could have indulged in a fire without detection, but it was late and the warmth of the day still lingered in this cloistered hollow. The moon hung in the sky far overhead, a gleaming silver disk on a bed of black velvet. Crickets and frogs chirped, the breeze stirred the leaves on the evergreens in a collective sigh. The heady scent of honey from the blossoms hung in the night air. To this magical night music the men slept deeply until the first rays of dawn.
*****
The birds woke them in a crescendo of sound, even if this place was hidden from most humans, like a rare jewel the feathered hordes knew its exact location, swarming to the cold deep pool every dawn and dusk. The men broke camp each checking their weapons one last time, and left the sanctity of the oasis for the desert above. The raiders pushed west.
