Chekwe left a half-full horn of dark, malty ale on his table. By the time he hit the tavern door he had both sword and ax in hand, and he ran through the night at breakneck speed. He was too late, though, and by the time he arrived at headquarters the company had scattered back to their barracks. He walked slowly across the yard, tucking his weapons away. There was a warm glow of firelight shining through cracks in the shutters. He walked to the door, wondering if Hunter was inside with Dru, and if they should be left alone.
He opened the door quietly and stepped in. Dru was sitting in a chair by the fire, staring at the coals. An empty chair was next to her. Quamdammit, Hunter, Chekwe thought. Do you even want to be happy?
Quamdammit, Hunter, Do you even want to be happy?“Schoolers!” he
