The Reluctant Soldier: XXVIII
Posted May 28th, 2017 by Gracithe1andonly
in wardly searching
The vague date is set now. As the mist departs,
As the mystery lifts, I am filled with fear.
The ships will depart. I will go with them. Then-
Only the gods know.
Do not forget to tie the tents tightly- we
Would not want an accident in the middle
Of a maelstrom, now would we? Should I, perhaps
I feel as if Fate is boxing me; sometimes
Raining down blows so that I stumble, like now,
Or dancing around me, not landing a punch,
Setting me on edge.
This next blow of Fate is like so; Dorion,
Dorion the Deadly, who cares as fiercely
As he fights, is dead, gone; he was on a ship
That never reached land.
Since the Centurion has fallen, all talk
Is of who will replace him. It is either
Ambeil glory-lover or his friend Ionan.
Either would do well.
I have never laughed this hysterically.
Ambeil is Centurion. From his Captains,
He chose me to fill his empty Sergeant’s shoes.
Irony tastes bad.
Soon I will lead my half of Ambeil’s hundred
Across the ocean to the Islands. I know
Now what “soon” is; a week and a day stand here
Between me and doom.
See more stories by *Snow* Piccarda of the Moon