The WAR: A Story of Family

13. The Clearing

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"If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment."

INVASION

The air was acrid with the smoke from whatever creature was being cooked in the clearing, and a fog had started to creep into the woods.

Alistair and his group were well hidden between the trees, away from the men in the clearing; yet him and his group were ready, within dangers embrace, he could feel the tension coming off them.

"How many did you count?"  Asked Alistair pulling on his black leather gloves.

"Five." Said Elsa, a soldier on his team, "The two in the clearing.  Three headed towards the stream moments ago.  There are others scattered along its banks, maybe another five."

Alistair nodded. He glanced to his left where Will was staring into the clearing, waiting for an order, waiting to end it all. At least, end what was coming, here and now.

Alistair stared at his brother, recognizing the look in his eyes.  The quiet anger, the inevitable fire, the unpredictability.  Will could only be controlled to a minor extent, and then he had to be unleashed.

He was like a coil wound tight, ready to snap. His body ready for what came next.

"Will." Alistair's tone was wary.

Will didn't turn to look at his brother, "I'm just waiting for your order." He said.

The two other men in the group, Tom and Heath, and Elsa to Alistair's right also waited for his order.

Alistair stared ahead; in his veins, in his hands, in his eyes were also tension, watching, a sharp alertness, a strange sharpening of the senses. He was also ready for whatever came next.

"Tom, Heath, head towards the stream."  Alistair turned his head slightly, "Elsa, you stay here."

"But Alistair – I mean, Captain –"

"Don't argue for goodness sakes," Hissed Tom, pulling on his own gloves.

Alistair gave Elsa an encouraging look, "I trust you to cover our backs, Elsa." He said to her with sincerity, and after a moment she nodded with a faint smile.

They broke from their positions and Alistair and Will headed stealthily into the clearing. 

One man sat stoking the fire and Will took out his sword, holding it in that unique way that was his own, as if it were weightless, as if it were a dagger and not a long blade, he approached the man making sure he was heard, wanting to look into his eyes as he sliced his throat open.

The man scrambled to his feet with a startled shout, but he was not fast enough, and it was surprise in his eyes that Will saw as he moved the blade swiftly across his neck.

Blood sprayed out onto Will's uniform.

The man fell quietly to the ground.

The other man in the clearing was faster though, drawing his sword. He did not die easily nor quietly.

Alistair kept his eyes on his brother, he heard the sharp ring of steel against steel, but he also kept his focus on what he needed to do next.

A little outside the clearing, laying beaten and bruised between the roots of a tree, was a young woman with her feet and hands tied and her mouth gagged.

Alistair went to her, and he knelt down next to her.  He put a tentative hand on her arm, and the woman flinched before her eyes flickered open, at first she was terrified, and then her eyes recognized the Alcott uniform, and she went still.