The Hard Road by D.A.Sanford - HTML preview

Aftermath

Erik is dead, publicly hung for the murder of the royal family and crimes committed to the country-

We have the packs back at the hide. The loss is now known but we were dead anyways. I curse the gods for not killing me. I am the only original pack leader left when the envoy arrived in our area under a white flag.

They told us that Erik had been executed. A regent was chosen until they could find a proper person to take the throne. It was the envoy that recognized me and took to the knee.

“My lord, we surrender to you.”

I stop him right there. “I am not that person you think I am. I am just a walking dead. Do you believe, for one moment, I would return to that country that killed my family. My father and mother. My brother and my mate? Bring me those of my pack that were murdered. Bring me my family for all these who fought with the pack are my family.” The pack had tried to make me their leader but I told them the dead will not lead. I asked that the eldest, as per tradition, be named chief. I will pledge my loyalty to that one. Kerg was chosen.

Now Kerg came forward. He puts his hand on me and leads me to a chair. “This man was mated to his love for only a few days. Ziva was the love of his life. She was the older sister to our leader and his best friend Tartan. Their parents, his parents died in the valiant battle to defend our sovereign territory. His birth parents were killed by that evil king of yours. Leave him alone. Hasn’t he suffered enough?” I have to speak to them. “I do not know where or if they were ever buried. That old me died with my father Arron. I am just a Green Ghost. We want to live in peace. Cede all these lands to us. It is not to be a part of that country. Know this, you are here before us, not the other way around. You are under the white flag. I am a dead man walking. I would like nothing better to have this body fall in battle and join all those heroes that have gone before me. I will accept my leader’s judgement.” I walk off to not let them see me cry. There is an area that only those of us that have had loss can go. We dead are appreciative that the rest of the pack will leave us alone at those times.

That man has no idea that I see them crowning me with a bloody crown. That blood is my mate’s blood. The gall of them to think that I would just forget these last years and gladly clean up their mess.

They left and much to our horror, we received word that they have found the bodies of my family and were returning them to us. I could not even comprehend why. I thanked Kreg later when he dispatched a pack to intercept them. They cremated the remains in one pyre then washed the ash away. The shaman said prayers. Kreg told them in no uncertain terms that they were not to disturb our dead. “Do this again and we will wipe you humans off this world even if we all die trying.” The humans never set foot in our land since then.

We now have made the hide our home. Most of the other races have returned to their home lands but those who are dead, like me, are welcomed to stay. I must say that we do not just sit and cry. To the contrary, we help the community in any way we can. Especially with the children. We cast all our love on them. Nurture and train them to be the best they can be. Appreciate all, but also not to tolerate bigotry. The biggest thing is to relate what it means to give all. This is what they need to hear. “To give one’s life freely to save another is the ultimate love.” We make sure that they know that is isn’t just throwing your life away, it is fighting to preserve family. If that means giving up your life, you have the satisfaction of being welcomed, at the final life, with those who have done the same. My life is good, I do enjoy it among my pack, my tribe. Always in my dreams, my dreams are mostly nightmares of my loved ones sitting at my table, They, one by one, excused themselves and never return. I go to see where they are and all I see are mangled unrecognizable bodies. I have a room away from others, at my request.. Night terrors cause me to wake up screaming.

There have been attempts to have me take a mate for comfort but I decline the offers. “It would be unfair for someone else to have to compete with someone that is dead.” Ziva was a once in a lifetime person. Tartan was a once in a lifetime friend. Both sets of parents. Who could ever compete? Why would I subject another to my nightmares? I try to remember what she sounded like, even now, at that table, I don’t see their faces, I don’t hear them in anything other than a monotone neutral voice. That is the true loss. Choking back the bitterness of having only one hour after being declared mates, to leave the village and go to war, I must paint a false face and go about my days helping my fellow people.

All know that I am killing time waiting and hoping time will kill me. Waiting for the day that I meet her again and go on that hundred year walk with Ziva. Time is cruel. I get that gut feeling that I will have to wait a long time. There are no battles for us, the dead, to be able to lay our shell down on the dirt. We must wait for that dream day.

That country now has elected leaders that can only serve one three year term in their lifetime. No more kings, no more nobles, just people. That concept has spread to all the other kingdoms. This world is, much to my elation and much to my dismay, at peace. Still I have that dream

I am sitting here on the throne that my father sat on wondering how things got this far askew. The priest is standing in front of me reciting the oath questions that all the kings in the past have sworn to. Holding that crown dripping the blood. I run screaming into the night!

As time has marched its cruel parade of years, I now am the last of the war dead. It has been many peaceful decades and I watched all the other dead excuse themselves and get up from my table. I am now truly alone at that dream table. I have come to my decision.

Calling the counsel together, I state what I want to do. “The time has come for me to leave this home. I am going to pack my old backpack and go on a journey to find my mate. I am not going to kill myself but at my old age, I know that it is almost time for me to go. By just walking, I will finally be free to let go. I do beg of you not to follow me. Just know that I am hunting the beast out there and will engage it in battle. I want to die in battle not of age in my sleep.” They respect that and ask if they could give me a going away life’s party. I tell them that the morning you wake and find me gone, that evening, throw that party but I asked them to have those who have been lost to battle and time to be celebrated also. They promised.

That day, people came and talked with me. Most told me that they were grateful for me and my lost ones.

“You will be in the tales around the camp fire for generations.” That evening I walked out while people were sleeping but the elders were there to say goodbye.

A few weeks have gone by since them and I finally found a pack of wolves to fight.

Authors note:

The Avenger is a story I wrote before The Hard Road. I wanted to write a story about the goblins and it took the twist of being a son of the king that was poisoned and wakes up in a new life. I have made some changes from its original publication to be compatible with the story line in the Hard Road.

After the Avenger is Ray’s final bit of the story

I hope you enjoy