[Folwren]

Kwell watched Carl go until with wind whipped sand hid him from sight. Then he sighed and bent his head towards the wind and headed back the way he had come. He could hear nothing besides the rush of wind, but in his inner ear, he heard Carl’s voice. ‘They might be needing a stout hearted lad such as you, just now. . .You go take care of Azhar for me. I’ve a good hunch you might be better at it than me.’

Then came Azhar’s voice, shouting at him. He had ignored her. ‘Kwell, you louse. I am no child!...A real soldier wouldn’t disobey his captain’s instructions, and he wouldn’t desert his post!’ Would desert his post! Kwell urged his feet onward. Lindir had told him to stay back, but Kwell had thought that he had been told to stay behind so as to keep him out of danger. Could it really have been so that he could fight, when the time came?

He felt something sink in side of him. What if they were attacked? What if people were killed? What if he could have been there to help them? What if . . . what if . . .

But even as his feet hurried onward, his mind began to race to defend himself. They hadn’t told him that there might be danger. Lindir had not said that the women and children might be attacked. They had hidden them so that they would be safe. It was not his fault if they were found and some of them killed.

The excuses ran on in his head, but he could not dismiss the guilty feeling that lay in his stomach like a large stone. He knew he should not have left. He knew he had disobeyed and had done so intentionally.

Something interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and squinted into the wind. He’d gone too far to the right. His shoulders drooped farther, his feet worked faster, and he started again towards the left.

“I have to make it back,” he panted in the wind. “I’ve got to help. I must, I must, I must do something or I’ll never be able to face Lindir or any one else again. No one must die. No one!”