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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1088046-Baseless-Faith
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Tragedy · #1088046
While her master marches off to war, a dog waits...But is he really coming back?
         “Don't worry, girl; I'll be back soon. Just wait right here for me.”
          Even though it had been a good year since she had seen the man, the red bitch still remembered his words. Every day, she would patrol the fort area, peering through every hole, nook, and cranny, searching for her master. When he failed to show, she shrugged the failure off and returned to her spot on the upper floor, where she had a view of all the flat land for at least a mile around. There, she sat and kept her vigil all through the night, and took only a few hours to rest, when it was too dark to see anything at all. When she finally drifted off to sleep, he stole into her dreams, just as he always did.
          “Hey, girl.” He whistled. “C'mere, you!”
         She bounded playfully over to him, and jumped up enthusiastically as he reached down to pet her. She dodged under his hand and barreled into his chest, knocking him down. Before he hit the ground, she was licking his face.
          “You little rascal,” he teased, pushing himself up with an arm. With a grin, he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug while she nuzzled him affectionately. And they were happy.

          “Breakfast!” announced Lucas Thresh, waking her from her dream. He was a plump old man with no hair on the top of his head, but plenty of it otherwise. He was a kindly man, and cook for the entire fort, as well, and was always able to find some scraps for the dogs of the fort. As soon as his face came into view, every dog bounded over to him, crowding around the building where all the men were. Every dog but the red one, who continued to watch. Thresh smiled and threw chunks of meat into the crowd before making his way over to the red bitch. When he reached her, his mirth was smothered, and his smile was a sad one. “Still waiting, girl?” he asked. She cocked her head slightly, as if to nod. With that same sad smile, Thresh set a haunch of lamb before her. She bent over it and dug into it hungrily, but always kept one eye up to continue to watch. Thresh scratched her head for a moment, then circled and left. The red dog just continued to eat, and continued to watch, even as she slipped into a daydream from long, long ago.
         “Hey,” the odd man murmured. “Are you alone? Are you hungry?” He held out his hand, and in it was a choice piece of meat. Nothing had ever smelled so good, but still, the dog was suspicious. She was an year old, and knew of men, as well as some of the tricks they would use. If she went for the meat, the man might impale her on a spear. Or even worse, he might keep her for his own, and she didn't trust any man with that responsibility.
          “C'mon, boy,” the man offered. “...Or girl,” he said, after a moment's consideration.
         The dog still hesitated, but something in his voice was reassuring to her. Cautiously, she padded over to the man, ready to run if anything was to happen. Nothing did. The man put down the loin of meat, and beckoned her forward. She took a few more steps, and then she was there. She sniffed the man for a moment. He smelled of grime and sweat and blood. It was a good fragrance, yet only when the man backed away did she eat. When she lifted her eyes from her food, he was gone.

         The dog shook her head. She couldn't doze off like that. Perhaps her master would come, and she would be asleep and miss him! No, there was no time for sleep. Sleep and dreams were for the night. The dog settled herself in, and kept her eyes trained on the landscape, without wavering.
          Days passed like that, then weeks. The snowy season had come, and every few days, the dog was buffeted by snow, or occasionally, hail. Still, she sat and waited. Once, after a particularly cold night, she felt a bit ill, but her determination and devotion would not allow her to rest, and it soon passed. Sicknesses were trifling matters after that; they didn't effect her in the least.
         Another month passed, and her dreams of her master seemed to become more frequent.
          He brought her food every day following that. Then, after a while, he began to talk to her. He used soft words at first, to ensure that she wouldn't run away. When she began to trust him more, she would let him pat her on the head, or scratch behind her ears. She still expected him to one day take her away to his own abode, but that day never came. He seemed happy just to talk to her, to give her food. So one day, curious about this interesting man, the dog followed him. She followed him down long, dusty trails, across large plains. Before long, she reached his home. It was rather odd to her, with all its walls and flags. The man turned around and saw her then, and she froze. Would he be mad that she followed him? Would he cease to bring food to her? And then...He smiled.
          One fine morning, she observed Thresh talking to a man she didn't know, as he left her to his food. She continued to eat, but kept both ears and eyes trained on the men.
         “Why does that dog sit there every day?” asked the stranger.
          Thresh sighed. “She's waiting for her master.”
         “And that would be?...”
          Thresh gave her an uncomfortable glance, then shrugged. “Mark Mollen.”
          The stranger frowned. “The dead Mark Mollen?
          “Aye,” replied Thresh, with an awkward look on his face.
         The stranger turned from him to her, and Thresh took the chance to wander off. Absentmindedly, the stranger said, “I guess I have to admire your devotion.” He stood for a few seconds, just staring out onto the open plain with her. Finally, he turned to her, and murmured, “Look...I'm sorry, but your master passed away a while ago. He fought in the Battle of Castle Torrhen, and was slain in the ensuing melee. He's gone, and you can't do anything about it.” She turned her head in confusion as he talked. Nothing he said was making any sense to her. So she just turned back to the plains and kept an eye out. She was so immersed with the task of watching that she literally jumped when the man put a hand on her head. “I know how you feel, girl. I liked Mark, too. He was a good guy. But he's dead now...Come on, why don't you come in?” he asked, gesturing at the open door, where bawdy noises and shouts could be heard. She paid him no heed, and continued to keep an eye trained at the land around her. She heard him sigh, and take his hand off her head. “Very well, then. Just remember that there will always be a spot for you inside, should you ever come.” Then he left, and she heard his footsteps recede. She remembered him then. He was one of her master's old friends.
          More months passed, then a year. It had been two years since she had seen her master, yet he was all she ever thought about; all day, every day, she watched for him. The men began to name her Hope, for reasons unknown to her. She never responded to the name, though. Her master had never named her, and she would remain nameless until he returned. But he never did, so she kept watch, and waited for a master that would never come back.
         Seasons continued to pass, and things changed. Old men were replaced by new ones. The dogs changed, too; some of the hounds she had befriended died off, and others were taken away.
          Another year passed. Then another. To her, any day when her master didn't show seemed to go by like a breeze, and time came and went quickly. Now most of her dreams were of the day that her master left her. The day when everything changed.
          A crowd had gathered around a strange looking man who was clad in white armor. The dog and her master were in the midst of the group. “Silence!” the man bellowed. “His Majesty King Benjan has asked for Fort Nopok's men to assist him by joining his army!”
         “Yeah,” shouted one of the men, “And by asked, you mean commanded.”
          The man shut up as the messenger swept his eyes across the columns of men; however, the man in question was not found. The envoy muttered, “We march on the morrow. I've brought some boys to take up your positions while you're gone.” And that was that.
         Later that night, her master took her aside, and brought her to one of the top walkways, where one could see everything for at least a mile around. “Looks like I've got to go. But don't worry, girl; I'll be back soon. Just wait right here for me.” He left the very next day, along with near all the other men of the fort. That saddened her. She had known the garrison to a man, and would miss them all dearly. But she knew her master would be back soon, so she sat right where he told her to, and waited eagerly for his return.

          More time passed, and, to the dog, time seemed to blur, for her routine was the same almost every day. More men came and went, as years flew by. Old Thresh grew older and older, and one day, he ceased to show up. Her master's old friend took over the job of feeding her that day, and explained to her that Thresh had died of old age. Again, he tried to tell her that her master had died, too, but she would not listen. Her master had been a young man. Thresh had been old.
         However, she could not deny that she herself was growing older. Days seemed to grow longer as she struggled to stay awake, to stay focused. She slipped in and out of consciousness all the time, and could barely keep her thoughts marshaled. Then, as the the nights grew colder with the transition of autumn to winter, it happened.
          It was a very cold night; in fact, it was the very first day of winter. Luckily, no snow had fallen yet, but unfortunately, the temperature was freezing. Her master's old friend tried to urge her inside, but she would not listen, and eventually, he gave up and hurried inside, to the warmth.
          An hour passed, and then another. Just keeping her head raised and her eyes open seemed like an enormous task. So she gently set her head on her paws and waited a few more moments, peering into the shadows of the night. Thoughts of her life flashed through her mind. Her life, in human years, was short, so it did not take long before she came back to reality hazily. She shook her head slightly, attempting to clear her head of troubled thoughts. She had to be ready. She had waited for her master for so many years, and today, he seemed close to her, so very close. She could almost feel him beside her, his hand on her head. Then, the world seemed to dim around her. She blinked a few times, then closed her eyes, tired. She decided that she would go to sleep a tad earlier. She could watch for her master again in the morning. Before she drifted off into unconsciousness, she took a few last, deep breaths, and thought of her master one final time.
         She neither moved, nor thought, ever again.
© Copyright 2006 Sandor Clegane (sandorclegane at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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