Rewriting Seven Years

10. Trust

Promised life by the almighty. On the vessel after escaping certain death, a vision set upon Garth in his sleep. Glorious green, past the sea many would say equals no return, but the luscious green was not what caught Garth's interest.

A woman laid in the arms of a tall man, they smiled back at Garth. Their skin sat in a painting. Clothes brown and tattered but lovely nonetheless. A small stack of logs tied up with sewed-in cow hides. Tents scattered around the land. Peaceful people lived in the valley, with no social construct. The men helped the woman and the woman helped the men.

Garth saw the sparkle in the couples' eyes—no one in their life ever worried. It was a life worth dying for.

"Get up, you hairy ogre!" A heavy jab was thrown against Garth's side. He awoke in the quarters of the ship. The white sheets were pulled up to his hips and he laid in a white shirt. Robin stood at the bedside—a knife in her right palm and her hands on her hips. "The General needs your help," Robin said as she watched Garth's body rock in a stiff bed.

"Why aren't you controlling me anymore?" Garth asked insultingly.

"You passed out immediately," Robin said crossing to the door. She had changed her clothes. She was wearing dark shorts and a white blouse with a leather strap going over the shoulders and chest. A pistol sat in a holster behind her back. "You should hurry, he's a little grumpy."

"And he let you keep a gun?" Garth asked insulted.

"He's really trusting," Robin said walking off with a smirk.

She closed the door gently behind her. Garth moved the sheets from his legs, to his surprise, someone had removed his pants and had left him in his underwear. He searched the quarters thoroughly. A pair of clothes sat folded perfectly on a bed, they were small, clearly the fugitive's change of clothing. Zekeao's cloak hung by the door. Garth grabbed the cloak and threw it on his body and he exited the quarters. The daylight shone and the sun blinded Garth.

As Garth's eyes adjusted to the light the sound of whistling called to his attention, soft and heartwarming. Zekeao and Robin tied down the sails with wind barely pushed against them.

"General," Garth called out as he could finally make out Zekeao's figure. "Where's my clothes?"

The General turned to Garth. He was delighted to see Garth awake, Robin continued to whistle happily. Zekeao's quickly finished tying and headed towards Garth.

"Garth!" Zekeao exclaimed, "How glad I am to see you awake." Zekeao stopped as he noticed Garth's heavy brows. "What's wrong?"

"I got a lot of questions," Garth said annoyed, "What's wrong with you? Why are you letting her stay on the boat? And where are my clothes? Because I'm sitting here in my first layer of clothing under your blue cloak." Robin giggled at his statement.

"Garth, there's nothing wrong," Zekeao said looking deep into Garth eyes to understand what was angering him. "I don't understand why you are so anal about this."

"Because that witch took you hostage, robbed our ship—do you not remember this?" Garth grabbed onto Zekeao's shoulders, letting the cloak open, Robin held her laugh back as she stood behind the General basking in Garth's "glory".

"Garth-"

"Stop saying my name, you're making me nervous." Garth pulled Zekeao closer.

"Robin is going to help us." Zekeao gave a confused smile, "Didn't you want help?"

"Not her's."

"I feel offended," Robin interjected.

"Like you should be," Garth replied. "Where's my clothes demon?"