Sophocleese, amongst the chatter and bustle of the home camp, stood guard over the prisoner. She'd seen that he had had decent food and water and a chance, while under heavy guard, to go to the loo. Now he just sat looking a looking worried and tapping out fretful rhythms on the ground between his feet. Hmmm. Maybe, in more peaceful times, he was a musician. Ah, what the hell, she was bored and he needed cheering up she might as well maybe jam with him a little, it couldn't hurt.

She pulled her guitar out from behind her and sat down in front of the prisoner. Tentatively she plucked a few strings and saw his expression change to something else, hope? maybe. Emboldened she started playing a song she'd composed ages ago. As usual when she began to play all the sounds of people nearby faded away, they were so sensitive they always left her to commune in peace with her guitar, and she was alone with her music and captive audience. The prisoner seemed somewhat wary so she played another of her songs feeling and knowing that she could somehow reach him this way and make a real connection with him. She would play him everyone of her songs, she had written so many, and then he could teach her one of his. She would show him that she had suffered, most of her songs showed how she had suffered, and that she understood and he wasn't alone and then they would be able to break down the walls of hate and mistrust. He was swaying now with her playing and moaning along with her singing. Now and again his hands would clench and grip each other as if he felt an instrument in his lap. And, clearly, he understood, she was getting through with this latest song, she could tell he felt the same anguish that she had when she'd penned it (she'd never forget the sight of little Algy floating upside down in his goldfish bowl). The prisoner's eyes were wide open now and in desperation for an instrument he was trying to pull up the stake he was chained to. She smiled at him and said, "Its okay, I'm used to playing alone, you can clap along if you wish. I'll play you this one that I wrote when I was upset about an old boyfriend." "No! NO!" the prisoner yelled, "I can't bear it! I'll tell you! I'll tell you. Its a trap down there! There are men dressed as women who are going to kill your commander."

Hastily Sophocleese stood up and looked around for others in the camp. Quickly she told them what he had said and they huddled into a circle to figure out their next move. And through all the hasty preparations and worry Sophocleese couldn't help but feel a small glow when she remembered it was the power of her music that had brought about this miraculous change in a prisoner's heart.