The Kingdom of the Emerald Hills

Her supple flesh slid across his lips. Her cooing bewitched him with every heartbeat. He had fallen to her glamour with open heart and mind. He wanted this. Yearned for it. Needed her.

The thundering crash caused him to leap out of bed. Sutra rolled to his left and landed hard on his stomach. The cold damp ground rose up to greet him. He waited. No voices or clanging of armor or weapons broke the silence. A rooster signaled the passing of some early morning hour off in the distance. The shade relaxed and eased himself unto the cool earth. The sweet scent of dirt and melted snow lingered in his nostrils.

The tired sheriff rolled over unto his back and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He froze. With intent focus, he squinted at the dark object protruding through the decently built roof.

"Now what..." Sutra mumbled mindlessly.

The shadow slowly stood up and examined the dark shape leering back at him. Finding and lighting the lantern stashed on the creaky table, Sutra directed the flickering light at the new found object.

Its dark skin glistened with moisture. The tan innards lay broken and exposed. The scent was quite distinct. Pecan tree. Pecan tree limb to be more exact.

Sutra shook his head and scowled. He'd have to set out and repair the damage done to his roof before the melting layers of snow had a chance of flooding him out. Sutra gripped the sides of his wood frame cot and pulled.

With a quick puff, he extinghuised the illuminating flame and settled back into bed. Pulling the dark cover over his shoulder, he resolved to deal with the issue when sunlight was in greater supply. Till then, he thought, he was going to finish his lulling dream.

And dream he did.
S

_________________
The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu

The dark shade knocked the last arrow securely into place. The tale tell moan of bow string whispered into his right ear. She sang to him. Of blood and vengeance, oh she sang. Through the cacophony of the midnight forest she always seemed to make herself known to him.

They stood motionless. The crackling neonate power emanated from the towering figure, waiting for the archers word.

Sutra had tracked the bloody icor this far. They'd track it to it's pestilent source if they could do it all in one night. The contagion did not happen over night. It had slowly crept deep into the life blood of the kingdom and it was chocking the life right out of her. Not on his watch.

The shambling outlines of the diseased reflected the full moons light. The mindless mob bumped into each other and the tightly packed treeline. Dragging viscera and broken dreams, they crept along having gorged themselves on the last village they had recently plowed under.

'Not yet...' Sutra whispered. His forearm trembled for a moment then stilled again. He inhaled deeply and caught a whiff of death and decay. He probably knew many he once called friends who had fallen to the disease.

Such a waste.

The mass stopped in unison as they began to sniff the air like wild animals. A blood curdling roar echoed through the woods. They had been found.

The brutes plowed through each other and into trees, rocks, and ravines to reach their next meal. Not on his watch he whispered.

'Just a couple more feet...' the dark one spoke. Eniad nodded. 'Just say the word boss.' he forced through grinning teeth.

'Now!' Sutra eagerly spoke. With a snap of the mage's fingers, an arch of light crackled from his palm and ignited the arrow head. Sutra squinted and found his mark. The trigger had been properly marked.

The flaming arrow speed between the heads of three familiar looking faces, or what remained of them. Gouged eyes and ripped flesh. Missing noses and dangling ears marred once healthy citizens of the kingdom.

The fire bolt hit the marked and a small explosion set the catalyst into motion, in mere moments the forest seemed to be engulfed in flames. The trenched out fire ring had worked. The tainted had become engulfed in flame and were easy targets for the hidden warriors on either side of the archer and wizard.

Sutra leaned against a tree and peered into the smoking night sky.

'Sutra! We one one!' shouted a voice from the darkness. Three heavily armored men rushed up carrying a writhing bundle between them. They dropped the dark mass a few feet away from Sutra's position.

Flint, Dink, and a newer face peered through ashened faces. "We found her just beyond the ridge at some makeshift shrine. She bears the mark."

Sutra waited. Dink cut the ties of the large canvas bag and out spilled a young female not older than twenty moons. She screamed like the wild animal she had lost herself to be. She grunted and growled through bloodstained lips. Her ragged flesh would have been supple and inviting a mere season ago, but what remained was nothing to be desired. Her raven hair had become matted and the madness in her eyes begged for salvation.

'The mark child, was it voluntary or forced?' Sutra asked as he leaned forward intrigued by seeing a survivor this far out in the kingdom outskirts.

Tendrils of saliva oozed from the corner of her mouth. Her silence was replaced by a sneer. She had answered his question.

Such a waste.

'So be it child...' lamented the inquisitor. The blade slid effortlessly against her throat. The gurgling sound was drowned out by the hacking of blood covered steel and the crackling of burning flesh.

Sutra peered deep into the dying girls eyes and for a split second saw his own reflection in her dead gaze. The fiery halo that framed his shadow would be etched in his memory forever. Today was the beginning of a new history.

The fight to take back their kingdom had only begun.

S
[con't]

_________________
The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu