'It isn't them that's keeping us here, Mr Bask,' muttered Magician Falk in a half-hearted attempt at calming the unhappy merchant. With a shiver, he pulled his cloak tighter as the wind gusted. 'It's the other forty or so that just recently left. We'll be moving soon enough, don't you worry.'
The guards had packed most of their belongings back into the wagon and were now pacing up and down, stamping their feet in an effort to keep warm, ready for the order to be off. Even the horses had been rested, fed and saddled and were shuffling unhappily. In fact, everyone was just waiting for word from either Loras or Tarent to move out, which was something everyone seemed resigned to do, everyone, except of course for Bartholomew. No matter what, he just could not come to grips with taking directi
