Beau

After The Battle of the Flood     A rainbow would have been too much, but it was moving enough to see the beams of light coming through the clouds and down onto Shorn. The water around the town had taken a few farms with it and a half a dozen people were still missing in the fighting and flash flooding, but this was an unambiguous victory.       Beau was shaking from the wet and the cold, still catching his breath like the horse under him. Outrunning the ogre hounds had been a heart pounding ordeal, and they only managed to stay ahead through quickly choosing paths that would be easier for a horse or confusing for a dog. When he saw the enemy move, he had to fight down panic; the hounds were faster than the horses by far. Still, the out-riding days of his youth protecting sheep came back to him, and he felt more alive than he had in a long, long time.     “We did it. We actually did it,” Gili said between gulps of air.     “I’m so glad,” he said. Unexpected tears brimmed up in his eyes forcing him to look away from the shining town and the happy dwarf.     “You were amazing back there. I knew you knew these lands, but I didn’t know you could ride like that. It was like- Oh, what’s wrong?”     He forced himself to look at her.     “I, um-“ he struggled, “it’s been so long since I did anything worthwhile. Gil, I’m just . . sorry. Your team, they were kind enough to treat my skin rash, I didn’t warn you. . . I didn’t know about the ambush, but I knew they were around. I knew I should have run right to Shorn when they first stole my food and told me to keep my mouth shut. I could have spared them. . and you. I’ve heard you were their prisoner. I can’t imagine-“     Gili seemed confused at first but began nodding as the man’s fractured speech added up. He quickly stuttered out of words, wiping at his eyes and apologized for nothing and everything. She took him in again, the vagrant who helped her find ruins and give directions on occasion. He looked younger than she remembered, almost boyish at the moment for his shy apology, though the signs of his hard life were still written on his skin and around his eyes. His hair and beard had plenty of grey in them and on his hand was a ring she knew he carried for a wife long gone. Still, he seemed new. She was talking to someone new.     Beau took a moment to compose himself.     “You don’t need to say all of that,” she said uncomfortably; “I- I learned a lot in all of this, actually. I learned why my work’s important and what else is important too.”     “I let myself forget,” Beau said, his voice quiet and serious.     “Well,” she finally said, “We were lucky to have you this time.”     She smiled, a quick, genuine smile: “Come on. Let’s get back and help.”     Shorn was still glowing with light through the clouds. It was a heavenly sight, and Beau was glad he had a hand in it. They and the other riders trotted back in silence until they got within earshot, then one of the younger men gave a giddy whoop. Soon, they were all cheering. They broke into a canter and circled the town square celebrating with the rest of Shorn. Gili spotted Rocca in the crowd and in an instant had pulled her up onto the horse and had the animal on its two hind legs, her spyglass raised like a sword. And then the heroes, all 6 defenders of their town arrived, and the excitement was like nothing seen before. Several friendly townsfolk slapped Beau’s back and fawned on his horse. He still felt on the outside looking in, but not nearly so far outside. He shouted a thanks to mayor Rocca for allowing him a horse to help, but she had more important things to worry about. She couldn’t hear anything said to her; the town saved, now looking into Gili’s eyes, the mayor had her priorities.