III.

“What ails you my friend?” Said Brakqen while he approached his leader. Brakqen was quite smaller than the others in their band, often being associated with someone with more sensibility than the other brutes. Brakqen kept a slim build to more efficient make use of his bow and to be more nimble when traversing the woods.

Brokenbjorn looked away from the tumbler beside him and looked up at his three comrades in front of him.

“If what the man speaks is true, then the evils from the dark days are back to wreak havoc on the lands one more.”

“The dark days? That was centuries ago.” Spoke Sandor.

“Yes its true the tales of these monsters date back to many fathers before me, but my ancestors were dull enough not to act then until it was too late, I don’t want to be remembered for doing the same.”

“The journey would take months, those are months that our home will remain unprotected and unprovided for.” Said Brakqen.

“Only six of us will go, the rest will stay and protect the town from any dangers.” Replied Brokenbjorn.

Sandor interrupted, “Six of us against the monsters from legends and an army of the undead, seems like a slaughter even for us.”

Brokenjorn remained true to his decision, “We will fighting alongside the arms of the Lord of the Land of the Sands, they wont be able to survive the fight of the monster’s stronghold as its more chilling than the winters we experience here.”

“Whats the plan then, when do we leave?” said Aotrys unexpectedly, he usually remained silent for these sorts of conversations.

“Markus and Orb will be joining the four of us, we will ride with the man from the South at dawn tomorrow, so I suggest you say your goodbyes this evening.”

It was clear that Sandor and Brakqen weren’t sure about their leader’s orders, but they bowed out and left towards the homes of their loved ones. Aotrys remained.

“Petyr, come here.” Shouted Brokenbjorn.

The stranger came to the throne of Brokenbjorn and bowed oddly in front of him, “my Lord,” he replied.

“Tell your men to stay here tonight, in the morning you’ll load up as much supplies as your carts can carry then we make our way South.”

Petyr was delighted by Brokenbjorn’s decision and raced back for his convey.

That evening most of the men either stayed with their wives or stayed in the lodge to prepare for the journey, but not yet being wed, Aotrys made his way towards the home of Emora, his love.

The night was cold, and a wind blew past Aotrys as he stood outside of the home of his beloved, still thinking of the words to say to her if or when she answered him. He saw a faint light shinning past the frost that had developed on her window, so he decided to act to making a snowball in his fist and throwing it at her window. After a few moments of waiting patiently in the winter climate, the window opened a crack and a small hand poked out to usher him into the house. Aotrys left his battle attire at the lodge and wore the best outfit he could muster: a linen shirt, his fur cloak that he wrapped around his shoulders and a pair of pants with the least holes in them.

As not to awake Emora’s parents, Aotrys climbed the large, stone bricks that the house was made from and gripped tightly as to not slip off into the snow below. When Aotrys finally made it to the window of Emora’s room he pushed the upwards and climbed in before too much snow pushed past him into the room. After picking himself off the floor he saw that Emora was giving him a scold based on his abrupt entry of her domain. No matter how many bears Aotrys fought or forest creatures who wanted him dead: Emora always managed to bring about these childish emotions that were usually suppressed deep beneath Aotrys’ rough exterior. All Aotrys could do is stare at the woman he loved with a smile of his face. Emora was short like Aotrys, but well built and beautiful. Her long, brown hair nearly reached her buttocks and her green eyes were bright enough to pierce a winter storm.

“Well cmon then, take off that hideous cloak of yours.” Said Emora as she approached her beloved.

She helped him to take off his cloak, but just as the bear pelt came off Aotrys tried to reach in for a hug, but was too slow for Emora’s retreat.

“You’re probably as cold as a thousand winters right now, how about to you warm up first.” Emora said.

“Aye I agree, but at least a kiss?” replied Aotrys.

“Alright, but just a kiss.”

After Aotrys kissed Emora, he put an arm around her waist and the two made their way to her bed.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4