43
Lincoln
I slip through the woods. As I speed along, I can’t help but notice how all the seed trees stand spindly and bare, their leaves picked over. If I weren’t so familiar with the wilds, I wouldn’t have found anything to eat.
A memory appears. When Peli took me to the past, all the peoples of the Primeval seemed healthy and well-fed. That isn’t the case any more, at least with the Avians. Something to consider.
With every step through the woods, the racket of Aldred’s camp grows louder. There’s the clang of pans, whinny of horses, and even a new lute tune.
I roll my eyes. Minstrels. Only Aldred.
Moving quietly, I pass the main camp. Rufus wouldn’t want to be near so many noises and smells. He’ll choose the high ground and keep sentry.
Sure enough, I spy the old lion sitting at
