'How the giant dies'
Morga sat as usual on her bedroll at the camp of the Imperial army. Although they had not camped for very long, she was already feeling sickly and jittery. The sun had barely risen when she had made it to her bedroll. It was late in the season, the day before harvest. The last season to be exact, as the seasons always went so she had no idea when she would be back in the Fields to start anew. Morga just knew that she would have to earn a living again, when she next saw the sun rise. Something she would have to consider for next year, but not now, not on this warm day, as the sun shined.
She had been awake for many hours and had not attempted to do very much at all. The army had continued on and she had followed. If she was going to die fighting for the Emperor, then she may as well fight for his glory. The army would move on, the army always moved on. Morga had never seen them go for so long. It was a day of rest, every man was resting even if no one slept much.
Someone had the idea that a man was trying to get at the Emperor through his Ambassadors. He had already done some damage. The Palace guard had been looking for trouble, it knew it was there. Morga could feel the trouble stalking her, stalking them all, in the palace. She was sat watching her fellow soldiers, her comrades. They had drawn lots and where all watching the direction they had been told to keep watch for trouble. The trouble was already this far away, and Morga could still feel it.
When the sun had risen, now it was time to rest. It had felt like hours, but it had been just minutes with the sun. Morga sat, and watched. She wondered how her daughter was doing. She was old enough to be left alone in the house, probably. The man who was talking about her daughter, was a good man, and a kind one. He had been her husband and were together when everything bad had happened. Morga had seen the look in his eyes, as he spoke of the loss of her own parents.
He was strong, the kind she felt she might have to defend her daughter against. For some reason, as he spoke, she felt better. If her daughter was having her problems through no fault of her own, then she would do anything to help her. 'Morga' her mind whispered, 'You'll have to fight them. I guess you can't get away from it. It's like an illness you can't escape. If you have to fight, then you'll fight'. Morga slipped a hand down her tunic, to where she had hidden her sword. She felt safe there, the sword was in her hand.
Everything was not all bad, she knew that. She knew that the fight against the trouble was worth it. They had been told to watch out for trouble, and they were doing that. She could feel it, it was coming. If they could defeat the trouble they would have time to rest. She could rest, and her new husband could keep talking about her daughter. He would speak, and she was sure that all would be well.
Her daughter. He had mentioned something about her daughter.
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