CHAPTER EIGHT
Thomas felt an odd peace while they ate their dinner. The crackle of the campfire, the warmth being shared by allies, and the call of night creatures, birds and insects, made it seem as if he was back home enjoying a celebration, whether it be a saint’s feast day or a village wedding. His new companions seemed out of sorts and most certainly out of place. Thomas wondered how critical Algren had been to their questing as those remaining seemed ill-equipped to survive beyond the borders of a well-established town. Siegfried confirmed that hunch when he walked to his tent and returned with his backpack. The frail man struggled mightily with the weight, and Thomas wondered what this most probable charlatan carried to make others believe he’d mastered the magic arts. First, Siegf
