Chekwe awoke to the sound of goblin drums. A smile played across his face. Something told him this was the day to leave Quarla’s village. Maybe it was the drums; maybe it was his gut. Maybe the drums were talking to his gut. But one way or another, it was time to go, so he got busy. Not that there was much to do. He ate the last three of Quarla’s bananas, checked his belt to make sure his ax and sword were in place, checked his rucksack to make sure the moonstones and other crown jewels were tucked away neatly, and reluctantly stowed Kingmaker in his rucksack as well. He sighed and stretched and smiled. It was good to travel light. He was about to step over to the stream to fill his water skin when he heard footsteps.
Chekwe stepped behind a palm tree and listened. The footsteps were stra
