Night crept upon them like a dark shadow over the trees. As their horses trotted wearily through the wood, the path became darker and darker, until stars blinked overhead and Maston could barely see his hand in front of his face. Emmaris called a halt. One by one, the company dismounted, and used previously purchased rope to tether their horses to nearby trees.
They gathered wood for a fire to ward off the chill and settled in a circle, dining on rations from the store. Conversations were short and curt. Moods were sharp after the incident with Bond, and everyone sulked in their guilt.
“Watches?” suggested Emmaris.
“First,” offered Adrian.
“Second,” called Maston.
Emmaris decided to take the third. They would rotate each night, allowing everyone a few full nights’ sleep. So the group lay down to sleep in the late evening, saddlesore and tired. Arwing curled up next to Maston and futilely tried to start a conversation. But her companion’s mind was somewhere else that night. It was like the first days they knew each other; he was moody and would barely put more than two words together at a time. Hurt and confused, she rolled over, but could not sleep. Maston himself stared at the sky and chewed his lip.
The hours ticked by. Neither Maston or Arwing even closed their eyes. They lay in a stony silence, each knowing the other was awake, and no words were spoken. Then Adrian crept over the sleeping bodies to wake Maston, who rose silently when he spotted his approach. He strapped on his sword and took his post.
Memories of a similar watch, held in a different forest, drifted to mind. He glanced at Arwing, her back defiantly turned, and his heart ached. He had pushed her away tonight, and she thought he was angry at her. He just couldn’t tell her what was really happening. No one could know.
09-Jun-2007 19:29:01
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