Old Soldier - Short Story

I sat on the porch, as always after a hard day. I smoked my pipe, I enjoyed the beer made by the man who owned the local tavern. Even tobacco was from this village, from old Marquis, and it was pretty good. It was actually one of the few things that brought me a sense of satisfaction in my life. And the cottage, as well as the carpentry workshop I made for myself. I worked in it from morning till dusk. It was my wish in my youth, to hide from some events, and the destruction and the evil that followed me since. I kind of let go for years to retire and try to live a normal life. It was the difference between me and my war comrades. It is true that not many of them survived rebellions, conquest campaigns, and the secret missions we carried out. But I am the only one who really succeeded in persisting in my intention. It was not easy to come here. Not physically, or collect money to buy this cottage at the edge of the village. What was most difficult was to renounce the military habits and the routines I acquired over the decades in the service of the Royal Army. The trouble was that your small rituals became part of you, like breathing or sleeping.

Source

All the nights I spent sleeping on a hard or wet ground wrapped in my coat haunted me for years after I retreated here. I could not sleep on the bed for months. Similarly, for months, I did not know what to do with that isolation that I set for myself. The trouble was that I actually did not expect to come in this moment in my life until this happened. Wishes of a soldier, dreams of peace, all this worked perfectly in cold nights, when I did not know if I would see the sun on the next day. Every day I came to live my dreams became stronger. And then that day came, and after so much planning I did not know how to act. For months I've been trying to gather parts of my personality that this isolation wanted so badly o happened. It was the period of my life in which chaos reigned in my mind.

When I moved in here, the villagers looked at me subtly, but they seemed friendly. It was clear to everyone that I had no easy life at all, and that I brought with it the burden of hard memories. I saw the compassion in their eyes, and it came out of the sadness and confusion I felt and which could be seen on my face. In time, mutual acceptance followed and everything slowly began to stand in its place. I made the small things in my workshop I changed with them; in return, I received warm meals, as well as tobacco and beer. I was a simple man, military ife made me that way. To live with what is minimal, it's a habit that I will never get rid of.

The evening fell rapidly, and I saw three figures on the horses as a clearing in the direction of my cabin. I immediately knew that they were strangers because the villagers from these lands did not ride. Horses benefit only in their agricultural work. Very few people in the command knew where I retreated to spend retirement after the military service, and I knew this is something important. These three riders were actually two soldiers of the Royal Spying Service, which was clear by their cloaks, and uniforms. A person in the middle, he was a boy not older than fifteen, with long blue hair. They shone in front of the hut, and as soon as they came closer, they saluted the greeting performed only by those soldiers and agents who were in the immediate vicinity of the chain of command. Both were captains. None of this told me this would be a normal conversation. The soldier who was standing right spoke to me. Major, my name is Captain Buzir, I am here in the name of his Greatness. Before you say something, the King wanted you to know that this is of the highest state and private interest for him. Can we go inside, to talk about it?

Of course, please, came in and with these words, the old feelings have returned again. Feelings that another task is waiting for me. This will be a long night.