to focus on a bright future?
A breeze bent the short stalks of grass on the forest floor. He could see for a couple of miles through the trees as long as he kept his gaze near the desert where the trees thinned. First one of his shadowed warriors stepped toward the dry, stone-strewn landscape then another beyond him and five a dozen yards farther. Soon a substantial force marched in a line from the forest. Even in the darkness Ilfedo could see that they all kept their faces toward the desert and their hands on the hilts of their swords.
None of this would be happening if his life had followed a different course. If Dantress were still alive … things would be different. He sighed and leaned his shoulder against a nearby oak tree. The hard bark released some of the tension in his muscles. Every day her death returned to his heart as potent as that fateful morning.
“Release me from this world, dear God,” he whispered through the shadows. “I want my heavenly rest in her bosom.”
“Your time is not yet, my love.” Dantress’s voice wafted so gently into his mind that he almost believed she was really there, standing beside him in the tree’s deepening shadows. “You and you alone must protect our offspring. She is the hope of your people. Stay for the fruit of my womb to blossom.” The voice faded.
“If only you were here, Dantress. If only.” Ilfedo turned toward the heart of the forest and walked into the darkness. A fleeting shadow of a woman slipped deeper into the woods and vanished. He froze, wondering for a moment if somehow Dantress had really spoken to him. The darkened floor of the forest offered him no reply. A breeze rustled the leaves; an owl hooted above him. Ilfedo shook his head and skirted behind the treeline, checking on the warriors as they waited in the shadows.
A long while later, Ilfedo stood again looking out over the desert. A cloudless sky allowed the starlight to illuminate the rock-strewn sand. Nothing had come from the desert so far as he could tell … and nothing indicated anything would come. The sands remained settled on the cool desert floor. The rocks seemed frozen in its midst.
A swordsman crept toward him, twisting to glance at the desert. Another warrior knelt behind a bush and rested his longbow on the ground, peering through the trees at the barren landscape.
Slowly he walked to the edge of the forest. He stood gazing across the desert for a few minutes more, then he strode along the tree line.
Four of his armor-clad men emerged from the trees ahead of him and fell in alongside him. “My Lord, we have seen nothing.”
“Remain at your posts until I give you leave.” Ilfedo waved them back and issued the same command, as every fifty feet he came upon another group of men. He glanced over his shoulder as the soldiers obediently shrank back into the forest. They would await his command, as they always did.
Facing west, he made his way up a steep incline to a thick group of trees. Behind them the ground descended gradually into a large valley where a hundred canvas tents dotted the grass. Not a single tree grew in the valley, but a line of oaks ringed its rim, rising like mighty sentries.
From the midst of the camp a group of lightly-armed men rose from around their campfire and wove their way between the tents. As they approached, Ilfedo smiled at their commander. “Ombre.”
“How’s the first watch coming?” Ombre slapped him on the shoulder. “If you need a better set of eyes on the ground, I’ll be more than happy to take your place!”
Ilfedo shook his head. “I want you to rouse Honer and Ganning.” He stood at the valley’s crest and pointed briefly out over the desert. “If something is out there, I want it found.”
“We could continue waiting, Ilfedo. You haven’t given it all that much time.”
“We could, you’re right. But I want whatever is out there, if it is out there, found. Rouse however many men you need and start search
A breeze bent the short stalks of grass on the forest floor. He could see for a couple of miles through the trees as long as he kept his gaze near the desert where the trees thinned. First one of his shadowed warriors stepped toward the dry, stone-strewn landscape then another beyond him and five a dozen yards farther. Soon a substantial force marched in a line from the forest. Even in the darkness Ilfedo could see that they all kept their faces toward the desert and their hands on the hilts of their swords.
None of this would be happening if his life had followed a different course. If Dantress were still alive … things would be different. He sighed and leaned his shoulder against a nearby oak tree. The hard bark released some of the tension in his muscles. Every day her death returned to his heart as potent as that fateful morning.
“Release me from this world, dear God,” he whispered through the shadows. “I want my heavenly rest in her bosom.”
“Your time is not yet, my love.” Dantress’s voice wafted so gently into his mind that he almost believed she was really there, standing beside him in the tree’s deepening shadows. “You and you alone must protect our offspring. She is the hope of your people. Stay for the fruit of my womb to blossom.” The voice faded.
“If only you were here, Dantress. If only.” Ilfedo turned toward the heart of the forest and walked into the darkness. A fleeting shadow of a woman slipped deeper into the woods and vanished. He froze, wondering for a moment if somehow Dantress had really spoken to him. The darkened floor of the forest offered him no reply. A breeze rustled the leaves; an owl hooted above him. Ilfedo shook his head and skirted behind the treeline, checking on the warriors as they waited in the shadows.
A long while later, Ilfedo stood again looking out over the desert. A cloudless sky allowed the starlight to illuminate the rock-strewn sand. Nothing had come from the desert so far as he could tell … and nothing indicated anything would come. The sands remained settled on the cool desert floor. The rocks seemed frozen in its midst.
A swordsman crept toward him, twisting to glance at the desert. Another warrior knelt behind a bush and rested his longbow on the ground, peering through the trees at the barren landscape.
Slowly he walked to the edge of the forest. He stood gazing across the desert for a few minutes more, then he strode along the tree line.
Four of his armor-clad men emerged from the trees ahead of him and fell in alongside him. “My Lord, we have seen nothing.”
“Remain at your posts until I give you leave.” Ilfedo waved them back and issued the same command, as every fifty feet he came upon another group of men. He glanced over his shoulder as the soldiers obediently shrank back into the forest. They would await his command, as they always did.
Facing west, he made his way up a steep incline to a thick group of trees. Behind them the ground descended gradually into a large valley where a hundred canvas tents dotted the grass. Not a single tree grew in the valley, but a line of oaks ringed its rim, rising like mighty sentries.
From the midst of the camp a group of lightly-armed men rose from around their campfire and wove their way between the tents. As they approached, Ilfedo smiled at their commander. “Ombre.”
“How’s the first watch coming?” Ombre slapped him on the shoulder. “If you need a better set of eyes on the ground, I’ll be more than happy to take your place!”
Ilfedo shook his head. “I want you to rouse Honer and Ganning.” He stood at the valley’s crest and pointed briefly out over the desert. “If something is out there, I want it found.”
“We could continue waiting, Ilfedo. You haven’t given it all that much time.”
“We could, you’re right. But I want whatever is out there, if it is out there, found. Rouse however many men you need and start search
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