July 12, 2014 by Lyn Thorne-Alder
“It’s almost time. Do you have everything?” The soldier was looming in the doorway to Saydrie’s parents’ house. “Remember, the winters are much colder in the North. You’ll need warm clothes, mittens, boots.”
“He has everything.” Saydrie’s mother stood watch over his valise and his trunk as if the soldier was going to steal them – which, in a sense, he was. “He has been well-prepared.”
“I doubt that.” The soldier had the typical Northern look: long nose, long black hair, sun-browned skin. He also had what Saydrie was beginning to believe was a typically Northern disdain for everything Southern.
“Mother, what if…” Saydrie swallowed.
His mother patted his shoulder. “Be brave, my son. I have faith in you.”