The Rebel Leader

The rebel army lined the main road now. The Rebel Leader was coming soon.

Rumours raced through the people. The Rebel Leader was an orphan. The Rebel Leader had been a slave. The Rebel Leader was a noble.

The crowd went quiet as the Rebel Leader’s personal guard marched past. The excitement of the crowd rose up in the silence.

There was gasp of surprise as the Rebel Leader came into view.

They saw the magnificent horse the Rebel Leader rode. They saw the bright armour shining in the bright sunlight. They saw the swords, still stained with the blood of the Warlord. These sights were impressive, but that was not what caused the gasp of surprise.

It was her beauty.

Many wondered how a woman, especially one so beautiful, could have raised the rebel army and led it to victory. The Rebel Leader rode along slowly, searching the faces of each of the townsfolk in turn. Her alabaster face showed no emotion.

She stopped her horse and fixed her gaze on one person. Quickly and elegantly, she dismounted her horse. She moved quickly forward as the rebels and people stepped aside.

She strode up to the old woman. She her hand gently on the old woman’s shoulder, and then she smiled.

“I told you I would come back.”