A questionable death

Jethro had been sitting on the boulder since midday. He had walked since early morning. As a soldier, he knew how to march. As a warrior, he marched with intensity. As a grieving friend, he knew how to sit silently.

The other boulders on the hillside were empty. So were the guard towers of the city in front of him. In other times, sitting still would have been deadly. But this city was in ruins. As sunset approached, the burned gates of the city seemed aflame again.

And Jethro reflected on his...