Snippet #1018835

"The Pale Rider. My grandfather had told me many stories of the Pale Rider." Ian thought to himself. Now, he was going to fight alongside him. "There is no time to be awestruck. I'm a man, and I must act it. In fact, I must act older. Most men who have seen only 17 winters do not go to battle...but I must get them back." Ian thought as he walked to sit down next to the guard who escorted him into the camp. "Hello, mind if I sit and eat?" Ian asked the guard. "Of course, of course." the guard replied, scooting over on the log on which he was sitting. The guard, whose name was Thomas, handed Ian a bowel of lean beef and potatoes while they talked of the camp, the soldiers in it, the weather, Thomas' family, and many other things. They got to know each other fairly well. Ian stood up "Well, I'm going to take my leave, do I have an assigned tent?" Ian asked to no one in particular. "Pick one mate. 's not like we got'a shortage 'o 'em" said one of the soldier's, whose name was Johnathon. Ian nodded, thanked the men, and walked toward an empty tent. The tent he chose was not far from where he sat, but far enough to get away from the noise. He laid out a sleeping role given to him by Thomas and laid down to wait for sleep to come.


He could not stop thinking about where he was and how he got there. He was a soldier now. He couldn't act like some awestruck boy. He was going to be fighting side by side with heroes, and maybe become one himself. Only time will tell. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, but tonight...it would not. "Get you'selves re'ey lads! We're un'er attack!"