Chapter 8

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Her mother had said before she went mad, that she had found the sword in the ground out the front of their shack, after an almighty scream. Her father’s body was nowhere to be seen and he was never found. The only trace was the sword. Her mother, in the depths of her grief had often slept with the sword stroking it with misty eyes. Zoe knew that her fathers disappearance and likely death had been the cause of her mothers madness, and she often felt a twinge of resentful anger enter mind. A bird screeched almost like it was sitting on her head and she quickly snapped out of her trance. It was a warning and she jumped to the side of the road and crouched in the bushes.

How amazing the animals’ senses were or simply pure coincidence, a few moments’ later, a large party of horses and finely clothed horsemen galloped past. They looked like the thieves she had often seen along these trails. They were dressed so nicely because everything they wore was stolen. Jewels, gold and silver chains clanged noisily as they rode once she was sure they were gone she spat on the ground, and got up.

“Lovely day to be out walking,” she quickly turned to see a menacing looking man high atop a horse. He had messy long black hair which made he fact that he hadn’t bathed in some time very obvious. Zoe had to act quickly to save the sword, save her life and get away. She hated to hurt people but this man was unknowingly standing on his deathbed.

“What a beautiful sword you have,’ he said, his eyes beady and greedy.

He breathed and pressed his legs against his legs against his dark brown horse. Just as quickly Zoe moved her arm out, slicing his right leg, just above his ankle. He cried out and immediately grabbed his ankle and she struck again. This time on his shoulder, the force knocked him off the horse which had reared and had galloped off. She was now alone with the injured thief. Her life was still in danger because he still had movement in his left arm and leg. She breathed in deeply closed her eyes, whispered ‘I’m sorry dad,’ and slashed his throat. The blood oozed out and he fell silent. He was dead. She put the sword down on the ground to pull his body off into the bushes. As she struggled to pull the man into the bushes, she could feel the adrenalin wearing off and she suddenly felt nervous.

“Screw it,” she said leaving the man where he had rolled over, picking up the sword and running off.

 I was stunned, but had to regain my focus to make sure I didn’t lose her trail. She was a quick runner and I struggled to keep up. She bounded over the logs and ducked under the low lying branches as if it were a second nature. I crashed through the trees, and I was making so much noise, I was surprised she didn’t turn around to see who was following her.

We ended up near some tall willows, and she disappeared underneath one of the drooping branches. I knew from John’s instructions that this must be where the shack was, and where Zoe lived. I didn’t follow her any further; I knew she would have still been covered in blood from the incident with the thief on the road. I needed to give her time to relax before I approached and hit her with more information. I sat on a trunk underneath one of the willow trees and caught my breath. The willow trees surrounding were huge, and their branches drooped down like a protective veil. They were a bright green colour and the sound of water trickling was soothing to my pounding head. I needed some water to calm my head, so I crept up to the willows and pushed my way through. What I saw behind the willow trees was nothing less than an oasis. The water surrounded the shack like a moat, the water was crystal clear and flowing steadily along one side. It looked like the moat had been built around the house long after the creation of this stream, but it wasn’t interrupting nature, it seemed to be adding to it. Vegetable crops grew tall and luscious, with everything from carrots and beans, to corn and oats growing. She even had cows, sheep and chickens happily grazing on the grass. It was a self sufficient lifestyle and one that she almost wouldn’t need to go anywhere for anything. I quickly drank from the stream and retreated to my hiding spot where I decided to stay for the night. Zoe’s shack was even more beautiful at night, with fireflies appearing in the thousands to flicker, fly and loiter in the willow branches. At a distance, the fireflies looked like fairies, and I don’t think I would have been surprised if they were. I ventured a little further away from the willows so that I could build a fire without the smells of smoke reaching anywhere near the shack. I slept under the stars, and dreamt of meeting Zoe and what would happened next.

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