When Warriors Weep II

It was a quite and peaceful morning. The sun was not yet strong enough to push brother fog out of the way and so a light mist remained over the valley. The birds sang a silent song as Lord Kartan slowly rode over the green hills. Those hills he had not seen for many years and as he passed over the highest point of the northern ascent, he told his horse: "Speed up, my friend, we are almost home. Finally were we wanted to be all these years." The old horse ignored her aching bones and galloped down into the valley near where she was born and where she would now die. The crusades had left her mark on the proud horse and she no longer desired adventure, only to die in peace upon the green hills of her master.

Eager expectation filled the face of Lord Kartan who had waited so long for his very moment, to be united with the bride of his youth, whom he had left only to follow his King. Now it was their time, time to enjoy, time to frollic and to praise the one who had made them. His face had grown weary during those years of constant battle, he no longer looked like the boy that had left his father seven years ago, no he had become a man and even the strongest could not withstand his sword. But even could not save his king from the ambush that had cost his life, what would he give to be in the place of his king.

The closer he came to the little castle that he called his home, the more pressing the silence he grew but Kartan did not notice, so eager was he to return home. Not even when he saw the doors standing wide open, he found nothing unusual. He jumped off his horse and walked up the steps to the banquet room where he expected everyone to be since no one had greeted him at the door. Something wonderful must have happen and his heart began to pound madly with excitement, for he would only add to their joy.

He entered the room and still there was silence, silence of death, silence of unutterable grief and now he woke as from a deep sleep. No one was there, no voice was heard. Running quickly out of the castle he stumbled down the steps only to bump into an old beggar. At first he was inclined to push him out of the way but then he restrained himself and looked closer. The longer he looked, the more familiar the face appeared to him, when the old beggar spoke:

"Is it you, Lord Kartan?" "Yes, it is me, Cassius." He had recognized his old servant and suddenly it dawned upon him seeing his servant dressed like a beggar. Breaking out in tears Cassius uttered: "I am so sorry, they are all gone. I have buried your father and mother with my own hands. Your bride..." There he broke off but he needed to speak no further, Kartan knew.

Madly he rushed up to the High Tower of the Castle and there in the top room he fell on his knees and cried, cried like the world had no end. Serving his king he had lost his family, his servants and the love of his life had been carried off into foreign lands. The wailing of Kartan echoed through the whole valley and no bird sang, neither did the wind blow or the rivers rush, while this warrior wept.