spinning and sharing

Outdoor sports club: Valhalla

In Pilgrimmage on September 21, 2010 at 4:06 am

I came upon the farmer and asked him about the girl.

“I’m afraid a world where no hope for change or betterment has left her mind a fragile heap.”

A javelin thudded into the ground and lay quivering ten feet from him.  Before either of us could turn back toward each other to form a conclusion, another hit the ground much closer.  We ran.

Arrows followed.

“I don’t understand!” the old man shouted.  He was at least sixty and slightly stooped, but whether his body was still robust or it was pure adrenaline, he kept pace with me as we sprinted to his horse.

“What’s to understand?  We get on your horse, you make it go fast, and we avoid becoming archery practice dummies!”

One, two, we pulled up onto the horse.

“He’s a plowhorse!” the old man yelled, and my stomach bobbed violently and sank.  Meanwhile, two more arrows buried themselves in our path.


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