Ispen grinned at the prospect, while Jacob gazed at the blue glow to the West. Brendan looked at his friend, a twinkle in his eye. “Well you couldn"t have picked a prettier place to start from.”
* * *
“Watch there, the crest of the ridge.”
Mavra squinted as she peered into the distance. The ridge in question was over a mile off, and hid the movements of mercenaries out for one reason: to hunt them down. She was being taught a lesson in observation by one of the tribesman, a dour-faced man called Hawkeye, in no way a relation to the grieving Hawknest. Hawkeye was the best of the scouts in the ever-growing group of tribesman that had seemingly congregated out of nowhere. Mavra had been constantly surprised. She had heard that a great many of them had escaped their forest home when it was
