She was late to her meeting.
She walked him out to meet his men, who had long been ready and a few of them had lapsed into naps at the stables. There were no words: nothing could fill the ache in her chest. when he pressed his hand gently against her cheek and met her eyes, the longing she saw there drew a dagger down her heart. She grasped his hand on her cheek, as long as he let her, then stood silently as he pulled away and mounted his horse. There had been a brief discussion as they had hurried to repack his saddlebags. The enemy was in (place) but the journey would be even more winding as they took the backroads. It would be weeks, maybe months before he passed through again. She held herself together until he had left her sight, then slowly dropped to her knees just inside the shadow of the barn. Her tears tore through her as she pressed her face against one of the shirts he had left behind.
She knew he would return. She knew he would triumph in his mission and that the day would be won. But she didnt know if her heart could handle the wait.
