Two Rivers Isle Last night I smoked a cigarette

Ulrich noticed Goliad's stiffness at his laughter, as if he had offended the man. He felt bad. Goliad probably thought he'd been laughing at him, which was certainly not the case. However, the smaller man's body posture relaxed after a moment or two, so Ulrich let it go, not wanting to draw attention to anything that might be awkward.

Goliad listened with rapt attention--Ulrich could tell by the look on his face. And when he was done speaking, the red man summed the story up so well that Ulrich was genuinely surprised and pleased. I like that, he murmured. Both survivors. Yes. We are at that. He sighed. I would give anything to keep her safe. Smiling ruefully, he said, I suppose in your story you'd call me the hopeless romantic, but really that is Adylaide. She... apparently loved me for years, and... Well, I knew. Of course I knew. But our love was forbidden, and so I... shoved those feelings away, you see.

Why was he telling Goliad this? He had been such a private man before. But... he supposed he was not the man he had once been. As a soldier he had been private because it was not permitted of him to share his life with others. Maybe he had never wished to be so private. Maybe now that he could tell his story, he wanted nothing more than that. To tell someone something about himself so that he would not be lost to the sands of time. The sands of time. Considering who he was speaking to, that was ironic.

Being forced into a constant state of life or death brings people closer together, he went on. Once we were free of the constraints of our former life... it did not take me long to realize that I had loved Adylaide all this time. So. It is a love story, more than anything, I suppose. He glanced at Goliad out of the corner of his honey-brown eyes. But you mustn't let the others know how soft I am, or they'll walk all over me. And he winked.