Young Writers Society

Modified based on PearlFire's advice.

The last thing Roberto Ingnacio Garcia remembered was riding out with Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar,AKA El Cid and his knights. The day had been dismally cloudy and a cold, wind-driven drizzle had made headway towards the Almoravide Berber camp extremely difficult.

The road had been treacherously narrow unsuitable for cavalry. Thick vegetation provided hiding places on each side and the danger of a sudden ambuscade was very real. Why the Cid had carelessly chosen this rout instead of circumventing and taking the longer but safer one he couldn't understand. They had been making slow but steady progress when the Cid suddenly ordered a halt. He had remained on his mount silently for too long for Garcia's liking before he finally spoke.

"Garcia," he said while looking intently away into the distance,

"I want you to go ahead and scout out the road for any sign of an Almoravid ambush!" .
Garcia suspected that this was the Cid's way of getting him executed. There had been an extremely intense disagreement over a senorita the previous evening at a tavern in Valencia. El Cid had come out the loser when the wench had chosen him instead

"But sir, what stops them from ambushing me on the way there?"

El Cid been remained morosely silent for the better part of a minute before responding. Garcia could see the muscles of his jaw working furiously as he searched for an answer.

"Trust in the Lord. He will protect!" the Cid had finally uttered sternly not even deigning to look at him.

Not daring to get into a heated argument, Garcia spurred his mount and proceeded down the rock-strewn road at a slow trot as the rest of the knights halted and waited. All had gone without incident until he came to a bend, then the sound of a whistling arrow followed by a stabbing pain to the kidney and another to his throat brought an end to his worries and he drifted into blackness

Then there was the aroma of greenery and pressure of ground against his back. He felt no pain from the deadly wounds. Gradually and tentatively he opened his eyes to the rays of gentle sunlight that filtered through the canopy of large pointed leaves. Perhaps he was back in Barcelona where court physicians had saved his life and where he was convalescing. But if so, where were they?

Cautiously raising himself to a sitting position, he gazed about in confusion. Where was this place? How had he gotten here. Why wasn't he dressed in his armor? Where were his weapons, his horse? The road that he had just been traveling on? Gradually as his mind began to clear he heard voices a short distance away and the soft meandering of a river as it coursed over the smooth riverbed rocks.

Parting the leaves with his hands, Garcia beheld young people dressed in long, white garments cupping the crystalline waters in their hands and drinking deep. In the distance he beheld others rising as if from the ground leaving their flowered canopies behind as if butterflies emerging from their cocoons.

There was laughter, shouts of tearful joy and recognition of long-separated loved ones suddenly reunited. Then approaching him were his two children and his wife whom he had lost to an Almoravid Berber attack on his village years before. Then the scripture which he had read dozens of times came to him as if by inspiration from higher power, a power that wanted him to understand came to his mind.

"You will be with me in paradise""

Hello! Feltrix here for a review. Of course. Who else would I be and what else would I be here for with those bold letters above the post? Anyway...

I. Your first sentence contains too much information. We've got the last thing Roberto Ignacio Garcia is remembering before he regains consciousness (can you really remember stuff then?), the lovely description of his lovely jungle surroundings, the fact that he was with a group of knights and what they're also known as. That's way too much for one sentence. I think it's actually a run on sentence, too, but I could be wrong because I'm terrible at identifying those.

II. You really only need one space between your paragraphs. You can do more if you want, but it's not necessary.

III. This is more of a general suggestion than one specific to this story: try to remove as many adverbs as possible. Multiple published writers have said so. I think it takes away from flow and they're not usually necessary or something like that. But whenever possible, they should be removed.

IV. I'd be a little more specific about what the Cid are doing... wherever they are. And where they are. At a guess, I'd say they're conquistadors, but that's just a guess.

V.

Not daring to get into a heated argument with the Cid

Hey Radrook, Sharon here for a short review. First thing that I noticed about this work is that it lacks a bit of structure. The structure of the sentences as well as the work on the whole is a bit awkwardly shaped, especially for a short story. For example, "Why the Cid had carelessly chosen this rout instead of circumventing and taking the longer but safer one he couldn't understand." - this line could have been written as "He couldn't understand why the Cid...", just to reduce confusion. The second and last thing that I noticed was that in spite of the few technical errors, you have been successful in bringing forth the inner meaning. Still, it would have been even better if you could have given a slight hint before of what is about to happen and just added that extra dramatic touch. Do notify me if you edit the work and great going. Thank you