The WAR: A Story of Family

Secundus

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"These woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep."

THE SECOND TOWN and THE OLD WOMAN

The Earl Marshal surveyed the smoking ruins and shook his head as his eyes took in the death and destruction.

The smell of it filled the air.

Alistair moved between the smoking houses, and inwardly he closed himself to the images that he saw. He had seen death many times before, more often than not he was the bringer of death. He tried not to let the sight of this town and the mangled burnt bodies in his path affect him.

The images made his heart hurt, even as he tried to harden himself to them.  The bodies spoke to him, with silent agonizing screams – and it was the unnatural silence around him that made him keep his hand on the hilt of his sword.

He tried so hard to close himself to the tragedy of it.

The men in this town had put up a good fight and amongst the Alcott dead were also the bloodied lifeless bodies of Ismo soldiers.

"Notice that the surviving Ismo invaders took the women," Said the Earl Marshal, "Like they did at the other town. Why are they taking our women?"

Alistair turned to look at him.

Another soldier said, "There are rumours, Sir... that it seems they are using the distraction of war in Ismo to set up a human trade to Vondur."

Alistair looked between the Marshal and the other solider and remained quiet.

"Why would they risk bringing their knavery into Alcott and provoke retaliation?" The Earl Marshal huffed angrily, more to himself than to his men. He sighed with frustration. "Bhodi," He called the other soldier, "You will expand your patrols from Sanada to Reddick."

Bhodi grunted in response.

"Alistair," The Earl Marshal continued, "From Paxton to Sena."

Alistair nodded, "Yes, Sir."

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Alistair rode at a steady pace.

The ground rose about him in flat shelves as he rode slowly into the woods.

Above him the canopy of the trees were still green, and thick. The leaves hung without motion against a sky of bright blue.

Mid-day.

It was long overdue that he had come here to pay his respects and he was relieved to see a thin column of smoke coming from the chimney of the cottage, signifying life.

Alistair tethered his horse to a tree, stroking her neck gently before he approached the small porch and knocked on the door.

It took a moment before Ada shuffled to the door, looking at first surprised and then suspicious to see him standing there. "I wondered if you had survived your wounds, boy."

"I survived. May I come in?"

Ada looked past him, satisfied that he was alone before she stepped aside to let him in.

Butter soft light streamed through the rounded windows catching the dust particles in the air. A cauldron with a thin silvery liquid bubbled in the fireplace.

"Just a moonlight tincture." Ada explained dismissively, "To help me sleep."

It didn't matter to Alistair what potions she brewed or for whatever reason, "I came to say thank you." He said.