Meuric Read Free Page B

to face that day. They seemed to have answered, for no more cries from the enemy could be heard. He looked in the direction of Abram and Jemima.
    â€œI think that we are safe.”
    He never felt the arrowheads that pierced his body.
    Meuric stumbled backwards as if hit by a powerful man. He did not fall. He looked down at his body. One arrow protruded from his right bicep, the second from his left thigh. He steadied himself and snapped the shafts of the arrows. He was surprised at how little pain he felt. All of a sudden he was just extremely weary. Meuric held his two swords up defensively. He waited for the attack that must surely come.
    A second group of men, armed with sword and shield, approached. Carefully they navigated the passageway of the cave. Meuric allowed himself a momentary look at the boy and his mother before he charged into the enemy and towards his death.
    He woke.
    Meuric glared about the scene forcing his heart to calm. No longer was he in the cave but by a campfire in a wood. He took some deep breaths. The dream/vision was becoming more and more vivid now. It was getting harder to recognise that it was still only the imaginings of the night and not yet true.
    So far.
    His arms lay across the sleeping form of a woman. Gently he slid his arm out from under her. It was hard to see under such a canopy of thick leaves but he guessed that it was still some hours until morning. The campfire was nearly out.
    It was a good spot they had chosen to camp in. The foliage overhead offered good protection from the rain and the natural dip in the ground not only allowed the heat of the fire to be reflected off the walls, but delivered good protection against being spotted. Around their campsite, they had laid several traps as an added bonus. He stood, about to collect some branches, when he froze. He had sensed the presence of someone new.
    On the opposite side of the dying fire sat a woman. The clothes she wore were of Kel’akh design though somewhat dated. She made no move but simply continued to sit, watching. Shadows from the trees hid her face.
    â€œYou are only a shade and have no power here,” stated Meuric. Such things may have scared an ordinary man but the warrior was far from normal. He was well used to such apparitions. “Why are you here?”
    â€œYou have need of me still,” responded the woman. “So I came.” Meuric looked to the woman sleeping in his bed, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. The newcomer laughed, a sweet musical sound that cut into his heart like no blade ever could. “Do not feel uncomfortable, husband,” she said. “I have been dead one hundred years now.”
    â€œAnd yet I still love you, Dervla,” was Meuric’s response. As it always was.
    â€œYou loved me,” stated the women. “You love her.” She indicated in the direction of the sleeping figure. “Radha is a good woman and loves you. Allow yourself to realise the truth of that. Otherwise you will never be happy.”
    â€œI could not save you,” he stated as his head dipped.
    â€œThere is nothing to forgive,” she sighed. “Abram showed you the truth of that night.” She held out her hands as if to touch her husband only to hesitate and pull back. “I torture myself by being here but you have need of me.”
    Meuric raised his head. He looked to her body seeking an indication of the way she had died. He found none and a deep sigh of relief escaped from his lips. He had begged Abram to end the vision he had created before he had seen how his wife had died.
    â€œAbram’s revelation of the attack against Gla’es,” his voice faltered. “I never got the chance to say but I was so proud of you.” He tried to smile but could not manage it. “Both you and Judoc were so brave.”
    Tears slipped from his eyes. Meuric’s mind reverted to a time just after the attack, when he had arrived at the scene.