So this is it..., he mumbled for himself. He had reached the gates of Cove where the baron himself and some of his men where raising a statue of forementioned. He didn't want attract attention to himself. Not yet.
He noticed that the guards, despite his efforts, had noticed him. He told them that he liked the statue... That it was grand. He continued into the heart of Cove. The journey had been a rough one. And even now he could feel the wind of the fall caressing his cheek with it's cold hands.
He ventured around the town, silently. He fell down on his knees digging his hand deep into the soft soil letting it fall of his hands. He mumbled to himself.
Blessed be this soil with our mothers presence. For the hard times that has been. And for the hard times that will come. Let it be... blessed.He stood up, turning his face in the winds direction.
Fall, finally have you arrived.... He smiled. He had always thought that the wind of autumn was comforting in some odd way. But it was a bit chilly. It always was when these winds started blowing.
"Well...", he thought,
"... perhaps I will".
He continued his walk through Cove. Towards the barracks. He met one of the guardsmen. Politely asking him:
"can I help ye".
"No", he answered,
"I am just here to see what kind of beverages you have to offer, care to join me?".
"Sure!", the guardsman replied. They sat down, talking a bit. The guardsman asked if he had though of joining the guardsmen. He hadn't, although the life of being a commoner in Cove was compelling. The guardsman had to leave.
A chilly wind blew into the tavern. He sat down in front of the heart of the homefire. The warmth was soothing.
"Perhaps I will...". He sat down... Sat down and waited. For better times to come...
The stranger sits in front of the heart of the homefire.
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