Cold

(Scene gets a sequel)

The morning was cold when Strider woke to a new day in the fen. Mist lay like a white layer over the village, in which he had sought shelter the day before. The villagers had welcomed him with hospitality exceeding his expectations. Though they did not know him they had cheered his arrival.

“Oh, I see you are already awake,” the eldest said with a deep smile when he approached the hut Strider had used to rest. “My congratulations, again, to your choice.”

“Choice?” Strider echoed and cleared his throat. He felt dizzy standing up and took in air, blinking. “May I know what you are talking about?”

The eldest bent forward, hands wringing each other, and his gaze was steady and suspicious on Strider's face. “You will not tell me that you regret your decision, will you?”

“Again, my good man, I need to ask you, what choice are you talking about?”

Now the gaze turned angry. “You are pretending not to know that you married my grand-daughter yesterday. That is outrageous! You will not…”

“Married?” Strider felt slightly nauseous. He remembered vaguely that there had been a young woman. And a strong drink in a wooden mug. And people cheering. He lifted his hands to quieten the old man's rambling, but to no avail. More men gathered around them, enclosing them in a threatening stance. A young woman came up from behind, looking left and right to learn the reason of the sudden unrest.

The eldest stood very erect. “You will face the wrath of the beast,” he stated. As if given the command to act the villagers rushed Strider. The wanderer did not intend to hurt the people so he did not draw his sword. With fists he defended himself, trying to calm the men with words. They were lost. He saw the eldest and his grand-daughter standing close by, watching the brawl. The woman was crying, and Strider would have wanted to explain the situation. A tall young man the size of a bull attacked him. The blow drove out all air of his lungs, and he stumbled. More men crowded, bringing him down and keeping him on the ground. A rope was wound around his wrists and his weapons taken away. His protests ebbed away unheard. The villagers pulled him to his feet. “Do you still pretend not to know about your recent marriage?” the eldest asked, his look askance.

“I know that I came here to ask for food and shelter, but not to be…”

A hard blow to his stomach ended Strider's explanation, and the eldest nodded with grim determination. He patted his grand-daughter’s hand. “Take him out into the fen and let the beast decide about his life.”

Word count 456