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Rated: E · Short Story · Military · #1314342
A stranded warrior must trust a mysterious stranger if he is ever to return home alive.
                                              Transcendent

         Michael Rayner moved quickly down the mountain slope, weaving in and out of the trees.  The terrain was steep and treacherous, his fast pace was forcing him to focus entirely on the ground immediately ahead of him.  Bounding across boulders, through branches, and over logs, Michael knew a single misstep could doom him to serious injury.  He had been on the run for over a week now.  An officer in the King’s army, he had led a small scouting party deep into enemy territory, looking for a passage through the mountains into the enemy heartland.  Over a week ago his party had been ambushed by a much larger force. They were slaughtered quickly, with only two other soldiers managing to escape with Michael. For several days the three of them were pursued. One was killed and the other captured and subsequently executed.  Michael was now alone, being chased through the mountains by an unknown number of enemy soldiers and trackers who were never far behind him.  He had no weapon, little water, and almost no food, but he did still have his precious compass. With that tucked safely in a pocket next to his left breast, he held onto the hope that he might be able to find his way to the border and the promise of home.
         As the sun slowly began to set behind the mountains, he finally saw the river that marked the border snaking its way through the valley below him.  With a renewed sense of urgency he pushed himself harder.  In the fading light he made it to the base of the mountain.  Exhausted and out of breath he looked around for a place to cross.  The river was higher and moving much faster than it was when they had crossed it over a week ago.  He would not be able to ford the river back across.  The jagged rocks strewn throughout the water and hidden underneath it would make swimming across next to impossible.  Staying within the wood line, he ran parallel to the river, desperately searching for a suitable place to cross.  After several minutes he began to fear that he would not be able to find a way back. 
         As he crested a slope on the base of the mountain, he saw a fire near the river bank.  Sitting beside it was a dark cloaked figure.  Michael debated whether or not to approach.  He was trapped at the border with no way to cross and the enemy was closing fast.  They would probably be here within the hour.  Not seeing any other options, he stepped out of the wood line towards the fire.  He walked slow and cautiously, his senses alert, knowing himself to be unarmed and vulnerable. 
         The cloaked figure remained sitting and made no motion as he approached.  Michael could not see the hooded face in the dark, but a pair of piercing blue eyes were silently appraising him through the fire.  Michael knew he was being closely inspected.  He stood in front of the cloaked figure, opposite the fire, trying to discern something about this mysterious person, but unable to determine anything.  The figure motioned for him to sit and Michael took a seat. 
         The figure brought a hand up and removed the hood of the cloak, revealing the face of a woman.  Michael was stunned.  She had a face that was both strong and gentle with long flowing blonde hair.  She stared directly into him with fierce blue eyes.  “Who are you and what are you doing here?” she asked him.  Michael was again surprised by her directness.
         “My name is Michael Rayner. I have been traveling through these parts on my own for over a week.  I need to cross the river.”
         “You are a fool to cross the river.  We are at war and that’s the King’s territory.  He will surely kill you if you are discovered.”
         “Perhaps, but I must cross. It is of the utmost importance.”
         “Who are you? A soldier? You are a foreigner, aren’t you! What are you doing here? This is my land. Leave immediately!”
         “Please, I beg of you. I need your help. I need to get home. I need to get across the river. They will kill me if I am found.”
         She laughed at this. “Take a look over there, to the west. You see that? Those storm clouds are coming fast. The river is already swollen. That storm will be here in just a few hours. The river will overflow its banks and you will never get across.”
         Michael looked over his shoulder.  He heard a rumble in the distance and saw the dark clouds rolling in.  I must cross this river, he thought to himself. I will die trying to cross it before I let them take me. He was determined to do whatever he could to make it back home.
         “I am not afraid of a little water,” Michael stated simply, but with a slight edge in his voice. “I will do whatever it takes to make it across that river.  I must see my family again.  Everything I ever loved is on the other side of that river.  The people I love the most are waiting for me over there. I haven’t seen them in years. I miss them terribly and I promised them I would make it back to see them again.  I have sacrificed so much to make it this far.  I have lost many friends and I have left behind those that I love and care for the most. Those still alive wait for me on the other side of those mountains.  They too have sacrificed just as much, if not more so than I.” Michael didn’t realize that he was clutching his compass.
         After a while, the lady spoke. “You understood that you may never see your loved ones again, any yet you came out here anyway?”
         Sadly, Michael nodded his head. “Yes, I understand this. My duty as a soldier dictates where I go.  Unfortunately, those who I love the most can never follow. I had to leave them behind.  My heart yearns for them and they yearn for me.  This burden I will always bear.  As hard as it is I have learned to accept this.  I live to see them again some day.”
         She was silent for several minutes, staring into the fire.  Eventually, she spoke. “I know what it is that you feel.  You have someone special waiting for you.  She must truly love you to withstand the pain of your profession.  I too once loved a soldier.  He was a blacksmith, but once the war started, he felt it was his duty to help where it was needed the most; in the army.  I knew what his love for me was like. It is the same as your love.  So much has to be sacrificed by both.  It is not fair to beg them to stay. They want to stay as much as you do, but you know they must leave.  You must be just as strong as they are. You feel so hopeless.  You pray for their safe return. Their absence is a knife to the heart, a terrible and painful wound.  My heart also yearns for my husband, killed not a year ago.  Despite the grief of separation, we lived for each other.  We lived to one day again be in each others arms.  My husband will never hold me in his arms again, but I pray that you will someday hold the one that you love and be with her in peace, forever. You do understand that you must live for the ones who love you.  Keep them in your heart always.”
         Michael spent a few moments in silent remembrance after that.  They had all been so proud when he left. They tried their best to hide their tears. He tried too. They were so scared, but Michael knew how much they loved him. He promised to do everything he could to make it back.
         “I can get you across the river. But it won’t be easy and it won’t be free.”
         Michael was excited, nervous, and disappointed.  He had no money to give, and he told her so, hoping there was another way.
         “Since when has money ever been important? It is almost worthless out here.  I do not require money. But I do need from you something valuable that I might be able to trade.  These are hard times we live in.  Without my husband, life has been very difficult.”
         Michael knew immediately what that thing of value was. It was a compass given to him just before he joined the army, many years ago, by a person who he loved dearly but could never be with. Michael took it out of his pocket. Inscribed on the back was a message engrained in his heart.
                                                Michael,
                      Follow your heart and discover your dreams.
                  The love we shared will be with us always and forever.
                    Wherever you go, know that I will always love you.
                                                Elizabeth
         Michael loved that compass almost as much as he loved Elizabeth.  It was the only thing he carried with him from back home that had any significance.  It reminded Michael of how much they had loved each other.  He prayed that some day they might be together again; that he could live in peace with Elizabeth, but fate and circumstance would not allow it.  Michael had loved her more than he had ever known possible, and even if they couldn’t be together, fate could never take his love for her away.
         Michael held the compass in his hands for a long time.  He could not stand parting with it. It was like parting with Elizabeth all over again. Why was life so cruel?  Why did he seem destined to lose that which he loved the most? To give this up was an endless price to pay. And yet, he had to make it across the river. What a hopeless situation.  The clouds rumbled again in the distance.  Elizabeth, I will always love you. He had no choice. Michael prayed she would understand.
         With a tear in his eye, Michael handed over the compass. Respectfully, the lady did not say anything, knowing its significance was something he held sacred in his heart.  For a while Michael stared into the fire trying to console himself.  He tried to take comfort in the fact that true love was something that could never be taken away.
         Michael stayed this way until eventually the stranger said, “Come with me.” They both got up and he followed her along the bank of the river for a short distance.  She stopped by the edge of the fast flowing water and took a step in.  The water only went up to her calves.  She took a few more steps and turned around.  “This is what we call an underwater bridge.  It was built by my family many generations ago, before we were ever at war.  It remains just below the surface, unseen by those who do not know about it.  My husband used it to trade with the villages on the other side.  He was an excellent sword maker and they were willing to pay quite handsomely for his work.  It has not been used since the war started and my husband went off to fight. 
         Michael took a step into the river, amazed at this simple, yet effective passage that was so cleverly concealed from prying eyes.  “I must lead you across,” she told him.  “The bridge does not go straight to the other bank.  There are a few turns to foil any attempts to cross by those who are not supposed to.”  She led the way in front of him, moving fast, yet gracefully.  Michael was amazed at this mysterious woman.  She was strong and independent, yet kind and compassionate.  She would have made an excellent soldier, he thought.  This benevolent guardian of hidden passages was leading him, an enemy soldier, back home and to safety out of the kindness of her heart.  He thought that she must feel sorry for him, or just be sick of war.  Perhaps this is what her husband would have wanted.  Or maybe she did not want another lover to grieve.
         They continued on for several minutes.  The water was icy cold, but the shore of the far bank gradually grew closer.  Eventually the two of them made it to the other side of the river, and Michael once again stepped on familiar ground.  He turned to the guardian of the hidden bridge.  “I have no way to thank you,” he said both regretfully and graciously.  “You did not need to do that.  You may be killed if anyone finds out.  You are incredibly generous and brave.  You have saved my life when you could have easily let me die.  I will never forget your kindness, yet you have not even told me your name.”
         She smiled a little at him.  “Your thanks are not required.  I know how much you have suffered and I understand how much you have sacrificed in order to see the ones you love again.  I admire your courage and faith in your loved ones.  You are more than determined to be with them again.  I pray that you will be with them again some day.  I appreciate you giving me your compass.  I am sorry, I feel more than a little guilty.”
         Michael simply shook his head.  “Take it, please.  I give it willingly.  You need it more than I do.  I understand the suffering you are going through.  To lose someone you love is a tragedy of universal proportions.  You are a strong woman and I know that you will survive this tragic war.  In times of grief, I hope you take comfort in the message on my compass.”
         A tear was welling in one of her bright blue eyes.  “Thank you, Michael.  I feel I must give you something as well.  You are a good person, able to see the suffering in others, even if they try to hide it. And you are compassionate enough to try to take away that pain.  You must make the people who love you very happy.  Thank you for what you have done for me.  I want you to have this.”  She reached into her cloak and produced a long sheathed dagger.  She held it out in front of her.
         “This was made for me by my husband, just before he left for the war.  He thought I might need it for protection, or for simply cleaning an animal for dinner.  I noticed you were unarmed.  A proper soldier needs a weapon of some sorts. I must admit, this is best used for hunting rather than war, but I know you will make good use out of it wherever you go.  You were kind enough to give me your compass, even though it was so important to you.  Please take this, you still have a long journey ahead of you, and you will need this more than I do.”
         Michael gently took hold of the sheathed dagger and slowly drew it.  It was magnificently made and he marveled at its beauty.  The handle was well made, simple and tightly wrapped in soft leather.  He held it up and looked at the blade in the fading light.  It was about fourteen inches long and made of the purest steel that glistened brightly in the sunset.  He looked closer and saw a message etched into the blade.

    If it comes to a choice between being a good soldier or a good human being, I will try to be a good human being.

    Michael liked the saying.  It must have been something that her husband had tried to live by.  It was a good phrase and an important message.  It was something that Michael realized he should try to live his life by as well.
    He turned the blade over and realized that there was another message written on the other side.
                                            Elizabeth,
                              the love we share is pure and true.
                                  It will keep us united forever.
                        Know in your heart, that I will always love you.

    Stunned, Michael looked up to say something to the woman.  He was shocked to realize that she was no longer there.  She was gone, already walking back to the other side.  She cried in private.  Michael could not fully understand the events that had just transpired.  He knew there was more meaning in this that he could not yet see.  He attached the sheathed dagger to his belt as she reached the far shore.  She turned and looked at him one last time from the opposite side of the river.  They were out of earshot, but Michael raised his hand and called out, “Goodbye Elizabeth!  I will never forget this! From the bottom of my heart I thank you!”  She too raised her hand on the far bank and probably spoke a parting message of thanks and gratitude.
         With his dagger on his hip, Michael turned away from the river and towards the mountain that loomed in front of him.  He started his ascent, running with a renewed strength and vigor.  He still had a few more mountain ranges to cross, but home seemed so much more tangible now.  It was a fading dream just a few days ago, but now that dream was coming true!  As he ran he made a vow to himself that he would never forget the kindness of Elizabeth and he would never reveal the secret of the bridge that saved his life.
© Copyright 2007 MattyJ145 (johnson86 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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