A Highwayman Astray

At the divergence there had been a sign indicating the abandoned road, yet I took it. A famous passage had streamed through my mind then, Abandon hope all ye who enter here, and I had thought it a warning of sorts, but perished the thought quickly. That was some hours ago, before sunset. The nearly full moon now hangs low over the horizon illuminating the way. What way?

A breeze had picked up a short while ago and the constant rustling of leaves, both in the trees and on the ground, for it is that time of year, have a sedative effect; not even the occasional hooting of an owl seems to rouse my senses. Longing for some sign of civilization, I start imagining rounding each bend in the road and finding myself looking down on some well-lit town in a valley below. I play out scenes in my mind, stopping in at the main tavern for a pint, having lively conversations with one or more of the other patrons, and eventually falling into a comfortable bed at a boarding house. Nearly lost to that simple fiction, the rider atop a horse some distance ahead and blocking the way is seen but not registered immediately.

I take several more strides before stopping in my tracks. My breath catches in my throat and I think to quickly conceal myself using the cover of a nearby tree, but by the time my feet are willing to respond, the horse has begun to slowly bring its master down the road toward me. Feeling no hope of escape, I remain there in the middle of the road, perplexed by the highwayman’s presence.

“You’ll deliver what you have about ye, or I’ll take yer life along with it.”

The pack slung over my shoulder I lower to the ground. The contents of my pockets I place atop it.

“That’s good.”

“If I may be so bold, I’d like to ask a question,” I say.

“Bold indeed. What is it?”

“Is there a town ahead? I’ve no provisions for spending a night in the woods.”

The rider dismounts, eyes me warily, and collects the belongings I’ve surrendered. He answers while securing them in his saddle bags. “Ye’d be better off going back. You’ll only lose more if you don’t quit this road.”

“What more do I have to lose?”

“I don’t know ye, but I’m guessin’ ye don’t really want to know the answer to that question.”

He mounts his horse again and leaves at a gallop in the direction from which I came. Suddenly I’m aware of the stillness all around me. The breeze has stopped and the trees are motionless. What few clouds there were in the sky a short while before have all disappeared.

An owl breaks the silence, and I continue my journey for what seemingly little it is worth.

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