69
The sun streamed through the trees on the following morning. Not a leaf moved. Woodfolk and sorcerers were sitting around the fire, finishing off their breakfast. The grass around them was still damp with dew and shining droplets hung from the leaves.
Danton placed his hand casually against a tree and said with a little grin, “No storms on the horizon. So we won’t get wet.” After a moment, he added, “Hmm, interesting. There is a column of mounted soldiers just turning off a large road onto a smaller track in that direction.” He nodded towards the west.
“That will be near the encampment,” said Running Feet.
Tarkyn decided to take Danton at his word, “Hopefully, that will be Jarand’s soldiers riding to sort out Andoran and Sargon and the bands of soldier-bandits.” Seeing the uncertain
