Where Is Liberia Hunnicutt

Colin is a crusader, a knight, a soldier, a champion, a liberator too. His face is handsome, but well hidden, as are his eyes of lightest blue. His own mother fears this veiled monster when he enters forest glen. He looks fierce and angry; who can guess what manner is his whim? It is a dark and devilish night, and wild dervishes can be felt about. One scared little eight-year-old spies the knight and gives a tiny shout. His mother shushes him, for soldiers are feared not admired in these days. Too many horrible battle stories have come which negate the old praise. Most of the men folk have been killed, which is why women are here. Crouching behind oak trees, hugging their babies, living in mortal fear. The champions have taken more than their share of a toll on their town. They are afraid of this knight, holding their breath, keeping eyes down. Where is Liberia Hunnicutt? He demands in a fierce, killing way. No one speaks, for Liberia is their friend, each and every sweet day. If something happens to her, they may starve, come totally undone. So no one speaks, not knowing that this is Colin, her eldest fine son.