Tell this story
I hold his sword and wonder if he was a good man.
"My lady?" I hear the voice, but all I can manage is a shake of my head. The last thing I want to do is address these men who stand before me. They failed and because they failed I have lost him. I know I can't stay quite much longer, I can already hear the rumblings of the impatient men.
"My lady?" the voice is closer now, barely a whisper. I know he would save me from all this if he could. He's the only person I trust. He holds my father's sword. I look up and he hands it to me.
I hold the sword and wonder if he was a good man. I know he was a good warrior, a good leader, but I don't know what kind of man he was outside of those roles. As the leader, he wasn't never a father in the ways I hear about and see in the village. Yet, he is my only example, my only role model for what is to come next in my life.
"Was he a good man?" my voice barely above a whisper.
"Was my father a good man?"
There is no reply. I raise my eyes and meet his, I can see he was waiting for this before he says, "The best my lady."
I slowly stand, holding the hilt of my father's sword in my hand. I test the weight, knowing the blade will have to be balanced for me. I give it a twirl bringing the point down hard on the ground, something my father always did the sound bringing all to attention.
I am my father's daughter.