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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The trio rode southward. Conditions on some days were fair and on others bitter. Jhary seemed to understand where he was and what comforts could be had. On the better days they rode, on the inclement ones they traded a round of stories and music for the meager shelter, a warming fire, and whatever food could be had with the inhabitants they passed along the way.
Isabou carried her two passengers well, hardly missing a stride as Jhary rode his bay mare usually in the rear. Beauty ran in circles about the horses or ahead as her canine nature dictated. There was not so much urgency in the mission, at least not yet; and the three travelers from vastly different experiences gradually began to get acquainted.
It had been another long day in the saddle and tonight the trio settled down to a cheery if small blaze, along with some precooked food and diluted wine of the very homemade kind. Aurianne had lingered over by her mare, loving on the animal a while as was the woman's nature to do after a long days ride.
Her and the mighty Isabou had been through and seen much, and she appreciated all her fine horse had given her. She took one last lingering caress of her mares broad chestnut neck, and meandered off to the inviting fireside.
Jhary handed Aurianne the carafe of thin wine. "Drink up and enjoy the warm, for tonight will be the last such comfort until we breach the badlands." Aurianne raised the carafe in a mock toast and drank, a smile on her lips.
"How far?" Kario inquired, looking up across the firelight, his black eyes sparkled.
"Some four days if we make good time." Jhary answered. "We dare not light a fire lest we become victims of slaver's or the bands of subhuman ones that roam there. Caution will be our savior."
Kario nodded in agreement. Thoughts turning inward at the prospect of discomfort ahead. He hoped the weather would at least be somewhat kind.
Aurianne was very unsure of her actions. It was with great trepidation she had agreed to assist Jhary Brannon, it was unlike her to make foolhardy decisions and she was somewhat disturbed she had done so. This was madness to even consider rescuing her tormentor surely? However she had agreed, and her word was her bond. Still she cursed her weakness in the face of this charming man, as she chewed on the tough ration of rabbit and listened to the men talk.
Jhary may have been making small talk with Kario, readying himself for the difficulties of tomorrow, and stroking beauty who lay close by intermittently. However he was dwelling heavily on Aurianne, or rather his feelings for her. Yes, she was arrestingly beautiful, and her laughter eased his spirits, though she was somewhat intimidating in a way most women were not. The statuesque redhead was capable, and could well defend herself, but things were more complex than that. Jhary cringed inwardly, easily visualizing his running blood if Aran grew even remotely aware of the slightest of his burgeoning feelings.
The bard had not intended this to happen, and he must fight to curb the seemingly uncontrollable draw he had to this woman. Looking on her though as the firelight danced across her perfect skin, her charms were impossible for any man to resist. The man of ballads included.
