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The Pouch

by David Haynes
Originally published by on 14/12/2012

Spindly branches like the crooked fingers on an arthritic hand stretched across the moonlit path and grabbed at the tattered hem of his great coat.

"Be there by midnight and not a minute later." Da was specific with his instructions and you didn't want to upset Da, not unless you wanted a good beating for your trouble.

The forest was silent save for the solitary screech of a fox in the distance and the sound of a footfall behind him. He gripped the leather pouch tightly and quickened his pace.

"Going somewhere young Ged?"

It couldn't be him, could it?"

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