Loved and Lost

The Horrid Loss

It's cold. For the last few hours gusts of the snow storm have made it hard to see the forest around our village. We're all freezing, the whole village is as we surround Litsurburge, making sure that none can pass through. As we stand on guard, weapons drawn, we patiently await for our passage into Valhalla.

There has been word that the Norse prince of Hurgundry, Rodac the Gentle, is coming to raid our village. Our village goes on at least two raids a year, so this was nothing new to us. However, the amount of them that are supposed to be coming, is what scares us. This feeling, that I know everyone's feeling right now, is the same one that scattered through the village as the mail carrier spoke the dreaded words with hesitation. He didn't want to speak to them just as much as we didn't want to hear them. The tears that poured out of that man's eyes, it was almost painful to watch him.

These past few months have gone by without a single word but they were hard. We had gotten the news last fall, half way through Octrisen. Now, six months later it's Aprissen and we need to fight the prince.

We've tried going to neighboring villages, begging them for help, none have seemed to send help or wanted to send help. They've likely left us here to die so they could fight over our land. Not that it would matter. It would still be owned by Rodac. The only difference would be the extra Tax one of the other villages would get.

Not one Earl has spoken up about sending some of their warriors our way in hopes that we may survive, But it's too late for any to arrive if any of them had changed their minds.

As the snowstorm has picked up over the last few weeks, we know that this is his way of giving us our own personal timer. The villages that he's passed along the way, scooping any and all willing villagers, wouldn't dare give us a hint. For they know that if Rodac finds out that you've turned on him, even if they whispered his name with disgust, he would turn you into the next example.

The gentle prince has cut off our supplies ranging in weaponry to consumables. Slowly over the last few weeks our livestock have been poisoned. The poison would spread during the night when the animals would eat the one that was poisoned. Rats and vermin have started roaming the streets.

Like ghosts in the wind, there have been sounds of horses galloping by, but my dad says it's a scare tactic. If they are out there, somewhere, we're never going to be able to see them with this storm. I've been covering my ears frequently, as has everyone else, just to make sure that they don't catch frostbite.

It's been rumored that he's been planning this attack for the last couple of years. Finding out what the best way to blind all two thousand of us from every side and finding the best opening. He has even stated that we're 'not worthy of joining his legion.' My dad has personally talked to him, once, before I was born. Apparently what my dad did was something so horrible that he told him this, "If I ever decided to teach this land a lesson, your home will be my first example."

It almost makes me sick, this "gentle giant", because all he wants is his fathers approval to take over the kingdom of Mila one day. Since they were born, gaining their fathers approval to take over the kingdom has always been for sport. Once a new king becomes crowned, then they will be gifted all four keys to each of the four bridges that Keep Mila as a whole. "Any second now," Einrik, my dad, lets slip through his frozen lips.

I glance up at him through a squinted gaze, scared it's going to be the last time I'm ever going to see him. My mom and dad have trained the entire army of Litsurburge for this exact moment, only I had barely trained up until six months ago.

I had always wanted to go raiding with my peers, but killing wasn't in my blood. I couldn't do it. I killed my first pig when I was ten and that was it for me. I prayed to the gods for their forgiveness, sobbing even. Mom and dad had to really consol me that day.