The horses pulling the wagon stopped abruptly, making it jolt. Thordric, who had been feigning sleep to try and stop the little girl from feeding him, was thrown forwards by a few feet. He sat up, listening to the excited chatter coming from outside. Before he could wonder what was going on, a head popped through the flap of the wagon. It was one of the tribesmen who had been at the very head of the party.
He spoke briefly to the girl and threw a glance at Thordric, before leaving as more excited voices could be heard. The girl turned to Thordric, a wide smile on her face.
‘We have reached the gold tribe’s city,’ she said in Dinian, though her accent was still harsh and guttural.
‘You can speak my language?’ he asked, surprised. Then the full implications of such a realisation sank in.
