Tales from the Tavern

Sunrise

A pale glow expanding across the dark silhouettes of a mountainous horizon heralded the coming of dawn. The sky beyond faded away to light like a curtain drawn from a window. Hues of purple, a premonition of what would follow, eased back the stars of night. Upon their heels followed reds and yellows, oranges and pinks, growing stronger until they seemed overcome by the cobalt that drove them on

Between two shadowed peaks, the heavens grew brighter than the surrounding, as if some ancient fire had been kindled between their earthly powers to outshine the overwhelming display of color. Indeed it had, for behind their jagged veil came the sun like a flood of pooling fire, older than the earth but burning like a candle-flame, only a thousand, a million times greater. The two ribbed cones hoisted it up, rested the spherical chariot upon their shoulders for another moment before heaving its white downy horses into motion, pulling a gift for all the world

Even as it clawed for altitude, beginning a long climb for the zenith, the forest around me erupted into life. Birds, cowed to silence by the pervasive gloom of night broke into song, celebrating a new day. A brook, muffled by oppressive shadow babbled to life only steps away from the ridge where I stood. Within my own being, it was like a rebirth; I once more became aware of my surroundings, feeling my humanity, feeling vibrant joy at finding life anew in the fresh light, an elation that even the human heart had relinquished in the shroud of darkness

Besides the stream and birds, the whistling wind carried its own tune of sorrow and delight, telling the stories of its travels to any who had ear to listen. It echoed and jumped, bounded high then dropped low. It told of distant love and joy, of children frolicking with their mothers a thousand leagues distant, waiting for fathers to return home. It whispered of the wolf it had passed, gaunt and starving, that had found a lamed deer, and leapt upon the creature to retrieve life and vigor.

Then it moved on, in its lowest timbre relating the battle of the night before, of the men and boys who had passed on to the heights of Valhalla, never to see an earthly home again. It knew, whispered that though Odin would be pleased in our victory, his glory would not be enough, now or ever, to overcome the hole that those soldiers left at home. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek, salty warmth reminding me that even I, a conquering general, was human; my heart nearly stopped. As though it read my mood, the breeze jumped again, and I heard the gasp as my men behind felt its southerly warmth pierce their saddened hearts

It whistled on, driving toward the sun, screaming and chanting of new found hope: a new day. It leaped across the stream, rustled through the leaves, a reminder that to feel joy and peace, one must also feel their foils of anger and sadness. It lifted my heart, and I turned back towards the sun, reveling in light that banished the last dark thoughts to the night where they belonged. My senses exploded, ferrying impressions into my mind too fast for comprehension.

Behind me, snorting horses, men shifting in their armor; to my right, a fish leaping high and splashing back into some clear pool; ahead, wind running away in delight; to my left, whistles of the birds, hundreds of birds, each singing their own song -- a different song -- to celebrate the joy of new life. I breathed deep, air drowning in the scent of a pre-dawn rain, clean and damp. Though midsummer, the breath carried a cool freshness which I could relate only to the first hint of spring that broke through the chill and declared that warmer days were on their way. I nearly stuck out my tongue, imagining I might taste the dew like some intoxicating candy to fill the void of life left vacant in my heart by soldiers' deaths.

I felt the welcoming give of damp grass beneath my feet reminding me of the journey ahead. Again, behind me, men shifted uncomfortably, wondering why we delayed. A long march and yet another battle lay before us, somewhere beyond the mountains now blanketed in the sun's golden light. I looked around one final time, basking in the beauty of nature that I might carry the strength it loaned me through one more day. I bent to the ground, picking a single blade of grass and twisting it around my finger. I examined its deep green tone, disbelieving of its perfection. Finally, I released it to the soft, now noiseless, breeze that still caressed my skin. The tendril drifted away, falling to the bubbling waters of the stream to be carried on its final journey.

From atop my knoll, I could see for miles, see the forests where we had fought only hours previously, see the fields we had yet to cross. I could see a distant town, white stone edifices reflecting the golden rays of the sun, shining villages I knew we might yet pillage and burn and destroy, that might yet destroy me. Yet I knew I could go on. I replaced my burnished steel helmet, feeling its protection envelope my head, its comforting, familiar strength returning me to my duty as general. I turned to the army behind me, and motioned them forward, brimming with conviction. For at the end, another sunrise, a new birth would always wait.