Lens Diary ~ Hope I ~ (05) 05/10/99
Hope I
By Len Morgan
He could see the steam
rising from the horse. Hear its protests
and uneven footfalls as rider and mount picked their way up the narrow mountain
pass.
“Just a few more steps,”
he mouthed. Avarel licked his dry
cracked lips nervously. His breath hung
like mist in the crisp spring mountain air.
He’d been a farmer like his father his family had always been farmers back into antiquity, until the Thaal invaded’ and his livestock and crops were taken to feed the defending army. What little remained had been taken by the Thaal, together with his wife and two sons. He’d been out hunting to supplement their meagre supplies when he’d seen the farm buildings ablaze. His eyes clouded with the pain of the memory. Now he robbed unwary travellers. He wasn’t proud of what he did but how else could he stay alive? How else could he feed the growing community of mouths he’d attracted from the stripped countryside.
They’d arrived alone and in small groups, survivors of the Thaal invasion. Little ones barely able to walk, others in their teens. All with the same dull lifeless eyes, gaunt faces and defeated expressions.
He couldn’t say no so the raggedy band of lost souls grew daily, like feral cats, so travellers in these mountains beware! A sixth sense warned him of impending danger…
.-...-.
“Don’t even twitch Squire,”
said a deep calm voice about a foot from his ear. “I do believe you’re about to attack my
horse?” He felt the touch of cold steel
on his jugular, his jaw slackened, and his mouth went dry. “Why?” The stranger
asked as he knelt motionless beside him.
“I’m nobodies Squire, I
seek only a contribution to keep my family from starvation.”
“Family? Turn around slowly!”
Avarel turned… “Why do you travel our mountains alone?” He
asked.
“I currently have a
shortage of friends Squire, we angered the Thaal once too often. We were betrayed. A few like me escaped but, they are hunting us
as we speak…”
“You’ve brought them
here?”
“I’d say they invited
themselves Squire, either way, they’ll be here in minutes. Now is not the time for talk, it’s time for
action! If you have family close, you
have a choice – Fight or flee. Either
way, I’m with you.”
Avarel looked angrily at
the young warrior with the cold grey eyes and sharp tongue. He noted the worn leathers and determined set
to his jaw. “Why should we want you?”
“Our aims are the same.”
“Which are?”
“Survival and revenge!”
“Well, my enemies enemy is
my friend?” Well put stranger, but let’s
just settle for survival.”
The sword withdrew from
his throat and they shook hands, as a ragtag troop of some thirty youngsters
rose from the undergrowth, bows levelled at the stranger.
“Jazen at your service.”
He bowed theatrically. His infectious
smile lit the glade, “Just call me Jaz.”
“My name is Avarel, and
these are my family.” He stared past Jaz
in amazement at the bright-eyed eager band he saw. What
had changed in just a few moments? “Hope!”
he whispered.
Copyright
Len Morgan
Interesting, awaiting further episodes with anticipation, and hope!!
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