“Halt! Friend or foe?” Gar shouted.
He pointed his spear in front of him down the length of the bridge, its point disappearing from his sight out into the dark, as did his words. No one replied, his only answer being the gentle sway of the rope bridge under the tread of a booted foot and somewhere out in the dark on the other side of the gorge, what sounded like the jangling of a horse’s tack, as the beast shook its head.
The timbers of the bridge creaked as something took a step forward.
“Halt.” Gar cried, his spear thrust out in front of him threatening the darkness.
Nearly all of the men of the village were away hunting, if this was Reivers attacking Gar knew there were not enough able bodied men left in the village to protect it; it was better for him to cut the bridge down than let Reivers reach the village side of the gorge.
“Do you not know me Asheal?”
Gar did not recognise the voice nor know this Asheal they spoke of.
“Halt!” Gar repeated, “Friend or Foe?”
“Friend or foe, Asheal? That depends on whether the time is right for you to embrace your future.”
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.