Fierce Loyalty

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The sky was growing dark. Thick clouds rolled angrily up from the south, and Zollin slumped in his saddle as sheets of cold rain fell. He was tired-both physically and emotionally-from the long ride. It seemed like he couldn’t remember when life had been leisurely. He thought back to when he was a boy growing up in Tranaugh Shire. He’d hated going to essentials school, hated being an apprentice with his father, and hated the daily chores that he was forced to do, but looking back he saw that life had been relatively easy.

“What’s on your mind?” Mansel asked, having to raise his voice over the noise of the falling rain.

“Just thinking of home,” Zollin said.

“Seems like a lifetime ago to me,” Mansel said. “It’s hard to believe we haven’t even been gone a year.”

“I know,” Zollin said. “It’s hard to remember a time when we weren’t constantly on the move and constantly in danger.”

“We’re not in danger now,” Mansel said. “For the first time, it’s our enemies who are on the run.”

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