20
As soon as they were out of sight of the mountainfolk, Tarkyn asked tightly, “Any lookouts?”
“Not in sight of here,” reported Autumn Leaves after a quick scan of the surrounding trees.
“Good.” Tarkyn stopped in his tracks. “Waterstone, Danton, your shoulders, if you will.”
As Tarkyn allowed himself to sag onto their shoulders, they realised with shock that his whole body was trembling and he was struggling to support his own weight. It was borne upon them the degree of determination that it had taken for him to stand upright for so long.
“Oh, Tarkyn, you poor bugger,” said Waterstone sympathetically. “Do you want to rest or get down to the stream?”
“How far is it?”
“Not far. Another forty yards or so. It’s just around the bend in the path, past those mountain ashes,” replied Wate
