If you want a good tale, Thorn says,
go for betrayal. Man and wife, brother
and brother, student and master.
The very one you trust—he flicks his hand
to show the knife. And so I am on the field
in false armor, not even knowing myself.
The grass, the sun, the banners, the sweat,
the fear. A man may be willing to die
for his friends, but for her? For him?
The queen in white, the field in green, dazzling
golden sun. The hopeful heart, the solemn
pledge: fire and sword, fear.
I want to know what he does!! Really great job drawing out a tense scene.
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I agree! Would like to know more..
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Oh, dear. As soon as I know, I’ll try to write it. 🙂
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I wonder how many soldiers still ask themselves that question?
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You know, once I saw that my “her” and “him” were vague, my thoughts drifted in that direction as well.
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I was assuming queen and king/country/ leader, the usual vague entities who urge on the troops and usually end up okay whoever wins.
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