The journey had been long and arduous.
The air had been so damp that a fire was impossible, and he was bitterly cold and hungry.
The signs of starvation were upon him when he finally climbed the crest of the hill toward home.
Each step on the stones made him think about the last time that he had been here. He and his father had spent the morning hunting, and on their journey back they had seen the soldiers.
“Run and hide! Do not come back whatever you may hear or see.”
He remembered the look of desperation on his father’s face– He touched his shoulder briefly.
“I will return for you”.
He could see the castle now, black flags of mourning dancing on the wind.
He had returned, but the blackness of the flying silk had touched his soul and wrapped around his heart. He would have his vengeance.