A slight breeze picked up. Then she smelled it, the sickening smell of rotting flesh. She looked around trying to locate the source of the smell. Obscured in the grass far to her right, lay a man dressed in the garb of the King's Rangers. There were struggle marks around his body and she guessed that the poison brought a painful death. Dead bodies of a few carrion eaters, mostly ravens, lay around the man. The poison had been so deadly that it was even killing the birds. Flindra forced down the vomit which had rushed to her throat.
Leitho had again slipped up next to her. One look at her face told him that there was something horribly wrong. She pointed out the trap in front of them. Then she pointed in the direction of the dead Ranger. Anger reflected in his eyes as he looked at the delicate webbing, which had been the death of the scout. He abruptly motioned Flindra to retreat.
They crawled out of the area on their bellies, being careful to retrace their steps. Leitho finally judged it safe to stand and reached a helping hand down to his scout. She stood up and shook her head to clear the sight of the dead man from her thoughts.
He moved close and held her by the shoulders, looking at the horror in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Flindra. I'm sorry you had to see that."
"You've nothing to be sorry about," she answered in a voice thick with emotion. "I knew what I was getting myself into when I became your scout. It's just that...just that...no one deserves to die like that." She quickly looked down at the ground to hide her tears.
Leitho gently cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. "Don't be ashamed to cry, Flindra. It shows that you still are alive enough to feel empathy with another's pain. Only be ashamed if you reach the point where you get too hard to feel. That is your, our, greatest risk."
"I know," she replied in a tiny voice. "Thanks for not ridiculing my sorrow."
No comments:
Post a Comment