Storyshare

The governor, the priest, and the soldier sat in a grove of olive trees, looking across the valley into the city. It was near the day’s end, and wisps of smoke were beginning to curl up from the crowded residences; to the priest, whose eyes kept coming back to the hill opposite them that overlooked the rest of the city, they were another reminder of days gone by, and stories told by his father and his father’s father, of a time when fires roared day and night on the summit of the mount, sending the sweet scent of worship heavenward.