Ohtaredan turned at the sound of booted feet striding just outside the door. His hand went to his sword, then relaxed as Herebrand ducked inside. His face was sweaty and begrimed, yet his eyes lit with pleasure at the sight of his friends. He clasped hands with Ohtaredan, then his eyes narrowed at the sight of Laurel's wounds. "By the...what has happened?" He went to her and laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. She grinned wearily at him, then pulled away. "I've been gone too long it would seem, my friends..."
Herebrand looked around the room for something, anything to drink. He stripped of his helmet and dropped it on the nearest table. He was tired and frustrated, not knowing who among his men might be lying dead now and he, totally unaware. At that moment, he just savoured being able to sit peacefully, his muscles tired almost to exhaustion.
His companions looked at him questioningly, but knew better than to speak to him just then. It was hard to see the young, idealistic warrior in this careworn, haunted man before them. He ran his hand over rough-hewn table on which his arm now rested and let his mind wander free. It seemed to him that he had never known anything but living up to ideals, standards, codes of honour. It light of all the things he had so recently seen and experienced, was it all worth it?
Herebrand heaved a heavy sigh and pushed himself to his feet. It had to be worth it. His life and his actions had to mean something! He turned to Ohtaredan. "I have to find my men, how many I have lost. Will you come with me, or will you stay with Laurel?" As he picked up his helmet, he saw for the first time to injured Elf, as she lay sleeping. Sadness filled him and he turned away, his need for action out-weighing his desperate need for rest.
[ June 24, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]
|