When Sarah entered Arthur's room and found him gone, and all
the letters she had written him during the war lying on the
bedside table she collapsed. He had not given her a
chance to assure him of her love, of her understanding.
He had left no note, no token, nothing but the letters with
their obvious message.
And memories. Deeply
cherished memories of their meeting three years earlier
after the battle of Edgehill when she and her mother had
helped him heal from the first wound he had suffered serving
the King. How long ago that all seemed, and yet so
close because of the joy the memories offered her.
Memories of a happier time, a time before the war had so
completely taken over the lives and spirits of the people of
England.
A time when Sarah was a girl
filled with hope and Arthur a gallant but gentle man.
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