WARRIOR
The silence of new snow touching his eyelashes were the only sounds in this Forest of Death. The snow hid
the faint footfalls of others who had to be nearby. The man - more a boy actually since he was hardly
eighteen - paused and listened once again. Though scarcely perceptible in the snow that rode the still winds,
he knew there were others - there had to be others - who like him searched for the Enemy.
What day is this? he thought. Can't be Sunday already?! Must be Saturday. Yes. Maybe. Days blended
one into another when at any moment your life was held in the balance. He stopped and shook his right
hand a moment chiding himself for once again letting his trigger finger tense too much in the cold.
What was that?!!
He turned quickly but saw nothing other than the black and browns of the bare trees and the white of the
virgin snow. Deadly snow. For Death lurked here. Death from a sniper's bullet. From an artillery shell
coming from nowhere. Anywhere. The next few feet - the next step - could prove fatal. He had lost more
than one friend to mines in places like this. And if he were not attentive, someone who hid in the shadows of
the snows could rise up behind him and slit his throat.
You were a man here even at eighteen. Either a man or dead.
As a boy he had always loved the snow. School let out early or was canceled. Skiing, ice skating. Throwing
snowballs with friends. Building a snow fort. Cuddling closer with one's girl for warmth - and using that as
an excuse to do other things. But that was when he was a boy scarcely six months ago. He had fought in
many battles since. A lifetime of battles. Once again he thought of his family, his loved ones. His father:
So proud to see him in uniform. What a man he was. His mother's kisses were a faint memory as were the
kisses from his sister. And the tears from his girl had dried long ago. He expect to die. If not here then
soon.
Abruptly he found himself locking his sights onto a sound that seemed to coil its way through the trees to his
right. Something was there! Something that here was Deadly. Silently leaving faint footprints that showed
he was still alive, he searched for the source of that sound. Deadly silence met each footfall.
Then he saw it - saw the source. In a pristine clearing so small as to escape notice was a horse and a fallen
rider. The horse stamped his foot impatiently once again - the source of the sound revealed fully. The rider
moved and then was still. He was so still that he hardly noticed his breath frozen in the air. But he could
see easily enough that the rider was a woman. And with death all around him permeating his very soul, he
had to help.
The soldier knelt and cradled her head in his lap. A fragile smile lit her pale blue eyes. He brushed stray
golden hairs away from her face. A hand reached behind his head and drew him down until cracked lips met
soft, yielding lips. Just a faint kiss but it warmed him. He wanted to help her up but a finger to her lips
reminded him of their mutual danger. He understood her as though words passed between them
notwithstanding the only sound to be heard was the feathery, drifting snow.
How to tell him? But he understood without words. She had seen him from afar before he had entered this
dire forest of Death. On her horse had she ridden to find him. But the snows came and the shadows claimed
their secrets. Then she could not find him. In her desperation, her horse stumbled and she fell.
He knew she was dying and he could only give her one thing. At first he refused wanting her to live rather
than die. Denying her claim on him, he opened her furs feeling for any wounds that he could bind. But the
warmth of a small breast shocked him into realizing she wanted - needed - something more. Gently he
lowered her to the cold earth and removed her furs seeing for the first time a slim, naked female body.
Forgotten for the moment was father, mother, sister, girl. He was gently touching, caressing someone who
needed and wanted him now.
She was dying. He knew that. But more she wanted. She wanted him to make love to her so that she could
share herself with someone before she died. It was to be her last wish. He was very gentle as he entered her
unaware of his surroundings only of her. She was the one who was dying - who needed his loving during
her final moments. And in his youth and manhood he gave all he could. Though inexperienced, he knew
this was enough. And as they made love - as he was filling her with his need, her need - she rose and then
fell. Relaxed and slack, she was dead. Before he rose from her - while still lying on her, within her - he
kissed those beautiful pale eyes shut. Now she could rest.
Covering her nakedness, the boy-man was confused. What to do? He couldn't just leave her here? But the
forgotten horse pushing at his back returned him to reality. Why she was there would remain a mystery that
he would never solve, he realized. But here in the open he was vulnerable. Taking his rifle once again he
left the clearing. Which direction? Where to go? He had no idea. But he was a soldier and had to fight
somewhere. Some place. And soldiers who didn't fight, died just as surely as those who did.
As he disappeared into the shadows of the snow, the horse softly stamped once more. The fur-clad rider so
silent in the snow opened her eyes and rose from the ice-hardened earth. Reaching behind the saddle, she
retrieved a winged helmet. But before she put it on, she smiled remembering the kind, loving soldier. As
she placed a hand on the pummel, The crack of a rifle shattered the silence. Listening, she waited. Her horse
cocked an ear forward as a second shot followed the first. Knowing it was over, she vaulted into the saddle;
and, as she took the reins, she wondered if the young soldier had ever heard of the Valkyries or Valhalla,
where she and her fallen lover would abide together. She smiled once again. It didn’t matter. He’d know
soon enough.