The Warrior\'s Question

Author: DreamDancer

The warrior trained hard, running miles each day, learning the ways of the bow, the shield, the mace and the spear. Sword work with the other warriors, practicing movements over and over and over again, until arms became leaden, breath seemed like it would not come into the warriors lungs anymore. Collapsing each night in utter exhaustion.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

The warrior went forth on hunts, deep into the hills and forests, days and weeks at a time away from home. In the blistering heat of the summer and in the frozen chill of deep winter, lonely and tired beyond belief.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

The warrior was called forth to war. Many battles were fought, many foes were vanquished. Many comrades, indeed many close friends fell to the enemies swords. The warrior was cut, stabbed and bludgeon in feocious melees, never quite healing right, but continued to fight on, beyond any seemingly normal endurance.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

The battles raged long and hard. The enemy was too strong it seemd, and the warriors were pushed back to the walls of the town. One more charge would put the enemy thru the lines, overwhelming the brave defenders. The town would be lost, the buildings burned, the people put to death.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

The enemy hordes charged. Breaks in the line formed as the enemy breached the walls, but at each breach, seemingly by some form of magic, the warrior appeared to rally the defenders. All the day, and into the night the battle raged, then suddenly it seemd that the enemy lost heart, could not face the slaughter any more, and fled from the walls. The warrior slumped against the wall, barely able to stand upright, sword barely grasped to hand.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

The warrior set forth from the town, ensuring that this was no ruse, that the enemy was well and truly fled. to the borders of the land the forces trudged, but the enemy never paused, never turned to fight, truly beaten. Unable to force themselves any farther in pursuit, they turned for home, wearily plodding down the road they had just traversed.

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

Back into the town with the sunrise. Trudging along by instinct alone, desperate to rest, desperate to be home. Not even able to focus on the faces of the townsfolk that the warrior passed, just putting one foot in front of the other, barely seeing each passing street and alley. Not hearing the cheers of the crowds, not feeling the pats on the back

And the warrior asked, "why do I do this thing?"

Standing in front of the doorway to the house, about to collapse, the warrior had no more energy go go on. The door to the house burst open, and out flew a small child, leaping up into the warriors arms.

"Mommy, you're home!!. You did it!! You saved us all. I love you Mommy".

And, the warrior looked down into her sons face, and knew the answer to her question.