Gradually the morning mist that hovered over the tops of the trees was filled with black smudges of smoke and a thick soot fiercely pierced its dense mass of moisture spreading across the horizon. A rhythmic roar of drums accompanied by human howls could be heard more and more sharply, and the icy morning wind carried with it a full of oil and burnt wood.
Fear was the only feeling people in the small town known as Boiling Hills could feel at that moment and even they in all their isolation knew what that noise meant.
Barbarians.
Haunted by the songs sung by the bards who ventured there, where barbarian peoples decimated whole villages and turned their inhabitants into slaves, people were paralyzed by fear. Gazing into the vain hope that one of them would have the solution to do in that situation.
But all they got was a morbid silence that only served to increase the fear that was lodged inside each of them.
The first to demonstrate some reaction was the old man:
_We can not give ourselves! We will survive this - after a brief pause and feel the saliva descend like a square rock by the throat - together!
_ We are going to die! You no longer have to flee, they would reach us in a short time - shouted one of the people.
_ Then we will not run away - said the Elder.
_ Let's resist, negotiate and defend ourselves if necessary - he added, but his voice was hoarse and fluttering. In spite of old age the thing that weighed most for the old man now was the notion of what was to happen to them.
_ Take all the children and those who can not defend themselves in the houses, the others must provide themselves with any object that serves as a weapon and prepare themselves for the worst.
_They will fall on us like a storm, but we will resist! said the old man, trying to sound as steady and convincing as possible, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself that everything would be all right.
The people divided themselves between hiding in houses and providing what could serve as weapons, but all they had there were pieces of wood and old planting tools.
In a few minutes everyone who managed to gather some courage stood in front of the entrance of the village waiting for the inevitable encounter.