The Village Under The Hill

The Village Under The Hill
The Village Under The Hill

Word spread quickly. Although many spoke, few paid heed. Even should they be moved to action, none knew what action to take.
“We should prepare to defend ourselves!” some declared.
“We should flee!” others urged.
But flee where? Defend, how? Most stood, wrapped in a comfortable cloak of indecision, isolated from the urgency – and the urging to chose between heroism and cowardice.
Rumour abounded, but news was scarce. At last, those who favoured uncertain flight over uncertain dependence on the valour of their neighbours, would delay no longer. In the quiet hours before sunrise, they took their leave.
Those who remained, viewing their own diminished numbers, boosted their resolve by redistributing those personal belongings left behind in the haste of departure. They spoke bravely of building barricades, but each thought his own property should be behind the strongest fortification, and in common disagreement they built nothing.
Food became an important issue and there was much discussion on the sharing of resources. The next day it was found that those, who were considered to have the greatest stores, had decamped in the night. On examination of their, now vacant, premises it became obvious that they had taken their food and valuables with them.
This engendered much rage and one amongst their number, a hefty fellow named Brugg, declared himself to be in command and that his rules were to be obeyed – at risk of his great displeasure.
When the next day dawned, Brugg, his wife and children found themselves to be the sole occupants of the village. His wife became fearful, so a disgruntled Brugg and his family departed, on the heels of those who had just left, to seek safe refuge.
And did The Dragon ever come?
We can ask, but who will answer? The village stands empty.

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