When I woke up the next morning, I felt well rested and quite determined. I had no desire to sleep in or dawdle, so I hopped out of bed and headed to the common room for breakfast. As I ate, I watched the other travelers in the inn and considered my options. I wasn’t sure exactly why Lecander had offered to help me, and I didn’t trust him. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure I believed what I’d been told by Tiriel and the others any longer. The one thing that seemed certain was still the conclusion I’d reached: that war was brewing, and that I would do whatever I could to stop it. It seemed megalomaniac, but it felt pretty good.

The first thing I should do, I thought, was to find Tiriel and the rest of the party again. I needed to find out more - a lot more - about their actual plans and intentions, and about the Dragonblade. It was also what Lecander wanted me to do, and I had no doubt he was watching somehow, using magic or spies, and so going back would be in line with our agreement. If we had one.

Then there was the third thing - I missed them. I’d been with them since I came here, and they felt rather like family. In a sense, I hoped Lecander was all wrong and that I could just go back to being a member of the party and tag along as they searched for the sword.

I finished up my porridge and bread and went to talk to the innkeeper.

“I’m heading for Davorra,” I told him when I managed to stop him. “Do you know if any other party is heading that way?”

“Well, it’s either that way or the other way,” he said, looking harried. “The road goes to Davorra or to Lonnol and nowhere else. So just ask anyone.” He waved vaguely and then, when I didn’t say anything, hurried away towards the back of the building.

I went outside, into the cool, clear morning sunlight. Several parties were assembling on the gravel area in front. I looked around to see if any of them seemed sympathetic to company. Maybe those, over by the benches.

“Good morning,” I said as I approached. “I’m traveling to Davorra and would prefer not to travel alone. Are you heading that way, and do you mind if I join for the day?”

One of the women looked me over critically. “Morning,” she said and nodded towards my sword sheath. “I can see why you don’t want to be alone. How did you lose your sword? We’re heading for Lonnol in either case.”

“Ah,” I said. “Well, good luck and speedy travels.”

She wished me the same but turned away from me, rather pointedly. Not too friendly, those. There was another party which looked almost ready, just by the road.

“Good morning,” I said, and repeated my question. They gave me much more friendly looks.

“We are heading that way,” one of the men said, “and you may travel with us if you wish. We move quickly, though, and do not wish to delay.”

“I’ll manage,” I told the man - the ranger, I realized. I looked more closely at them. They looked like rangers, all four, but they didn’t wear the typical ranger dress. “I have lost my pack,” I said, “but I do not wish to join empty-handed. Can I bring any provisions to add to the day’s meals?”

Two of them glanced at each other. “Well, some more bread wouldn’t be amiss,” one of them said. “Any kind. We’re just about to leave, so hurry up if you want to get something.”

I hurried back into the inn and got four loaves of bread in a small satchel, for what I suspected was far too much gold. I didn’t have time to haggle, and I could spare the gold. When I got back outside, they were waiting for me, ready to go. I fell in beside the leader as we set out on the road to Davorra.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said, “and why you’re going to Davorra all alone. You don’t look like the kind of person to do that, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Oh?” I said. “Why is that?”

“Davorra is a frontier town, the last town before the mountains truly begin. It’s a meeting point for humans, elves and dwarves, and it’s pretty rough. You look like you’d be more at home in the city.” He glanced at me with a questioning smile. I opened my mouth to protest - I’ve been on the road for a long time now and have been in more than enough fights, thank you very much! - but then decided to try for humility instead. He wasn’t wrong, after all.

“Well, yes,” I admitted. “I do have some experience with the wild country, but I did grow up in a city.” If Herkenburg could be called a city, but I had no intention to go into that. “I’ve been on the road now for some time, traveling with a party of adventurers. I was separated from them a few days ago and am now on my way back to meet them again.”

“I see,” he said cautiously. “I would like to know something more about this party and your mission. I’m not trying to poke into things that aren’t my business,” he added hastily, “but I do need to know if we may be heading into trouble having you with us.”

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“That’s good thinking,” I told him, and thought about Lecander, who was undoubtedly following or observing me. At the same time, I didn’t want to tell him the full truth. He seemed honest - maybe I could try for a direct approach? I glanced back over my shoulder; there were a few other, armed travelers there, and we had another party in front who’d just disappeared around a bend.

“I’m sure you will understand if I cannot tell you everything,” I said, “but I can tell you who I was traveling with.”

He nodded. “That would go a long way.”

“Our party was led by the elf Tiriel,” I said - and the man beside me stopped and stared at me.

“Tiriel?” he said. “You were in Tiriel’s party? With Arndrir Hellagrimsòn, Serah Derambra, Thord son of Drord, and - Caveria Dragonbane?”

“Yes,” I said, and stared back in surprise. “You know of them?”

“You could say that,” he grinned at me. “I have known Arndrir and Serah for a long time, and had heard they had joined Tiriel on her mission. That would be very welcome news, if it’s true. Can you prove it?”

We began walking again, and I was very conscious of the other three walking behind us, listening over our shoulders. Could I prove I’d been with their party?

“I can try,” I said, slowly, trying to remember details that may be relevant and wouldn’t be secret. “We were in Ambor when the Duke of, um, Mezz... something, staged a coup, and we, we stayed with rangers.” I glanced at him and hoped I’d read him right.

“Ah?” he said. “Where did you stay, then, and who did you meet?”

“We stayed in a place called Ranger Inn,” I said, “and met a woman called Karinne.”

“Good,” he said, sounding satisfied. “That fits, even if it’s no proof.” He stopped and turned towards his companions. “Introductions are in order, then. I am Hjardur Stefànsson, this is Elen Björnsdottir, and this is Marandir Kerambra.”

“I am pleased to meet you,” I said. “May there be friendship between us. I am Peter Smith, an... engineer.”

“We are pleased to meet you too,” they told me, before we resumed walking.

“What is your business in Davorra?” I asked Hjardur.

He sighed. “Normal ranger business, I’m afraid. The situation between the kingdoms is getting more and more unstable, and we’ve been sent to help watching the mountain frontier. There are many adventurers afoot, and some may want to stoke unrest with the elves and dwarves.” He glanced at me. I kept my expression neutral.

It matched with what Lecander had said, in a way. Except it wasn’t clear who was stoking the unrest. I didn’t want to go into that with him, and so I changed the subject. We continued talking while we walked, until it was time for lunch.

We’d been climbing slowly, and the wood copses and fields around the inn had given way to grassland with a few lone trees scattered around. As we crested a hill, we saw a small lake that seemed to serve as a rest stop. There were multiple parties sitting in the grass along the shore, close to the road, and we found a spot to sit down and make a small fire.

The rangers hadn’t made coffee during the morning, but now they finally did, putting a black kettle on the fire and boiling coarse-ground coffee in it. It wasn’t as good as Thord’s coffee, but I was happy for any coffee by now.

Lunch was cold - cheese, cured meat, pickled vegetables, and one of my loaves. It was good anyway, especially with the hot coffee. As we ate, I noticed a woman close by, watching us. She was sitting together with a man and three children, and they didn’t seem to have much to eat. Their clothes were dusty and dirty, and they looked tired.

I made eye contact with her, raising my eyebrows in question. She smiled back, a friendly but forced smile, and looked away. When she glanced back, I held up one of the loaves and raised my eyebrows again. She shook her head, but one of the kids betrayed her by licking his lips. He looked hungry. Very hungry.

I got up and went over to them.

“Hello,” I said. “Are you lacking food?”

“No, no,” she said, “we are... we are almost at Davorra. We are fine.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” I told her. “The kids look hungry. Here. Take this bread.” I held out the loaf, and she hesitated - but then took it.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“Why are you going to Davorra?”

“We are - were - smallholders,” she said in a low voice. “Our house and shed was burned by brigands. We hope to find work in Davorra herding cattle in the mountains. Away from the plain.”

“Because of the war?”

She grimaced and glanced at the kids, who were watching us, eyes wide.

“Yes. It is bad, and getting worse.”

“What’s your name?” I said, on impulse. “I am going to Davorra, maybe I can help you once we get there.”

She eyed me dubiously. “My name is Skorra,” she said after a long silence. “Skorra Veledran. That’s my husband Defani.” The bearded man stared morosely into the distance, towards Davorra. He didn’t react when she said his name.

“I will do what I can,” I promised, although I wasn’t sure why. There had to be hundreds, or thousands, of people with similar fates. I could hardly help them all, could I? Unless I stop the war itself.

“Wait,” I said, and went back to the rangers. They were skeptical, but allowed me to take half of a cheese back to Skorra and her family.

“Here,” I said as I gave it to her. “Feed your family. See you in Davorra.”

We left the lake soon after and made good progress along the road. I tried to decide if I’d just been stupid, or if I’d done something good. Hjardur clearly thought the latter, but he was slightly amused as well.

“Just keep your word,” he told me with the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “Keep your word, and something good may well come out of it.”

We reached Davorra at sunset. The road climbed up a low ridge, giving us a good look over the frontier town. It nestled up against a vertical cliff wall, with a long, low grassy slope rising towards the end of the valley. Even from up here, I could hear shouting and noise. It seemed lively.

“Soon we will part,” Hjardur said. “We will bypass the town and continue into the mountains. I cannot help you find your party, but I will give you a phrase that may be useful if you encounter other rangers. Tell them you’ve met me, and tell them the meadows of Kazamiel are already in bloom, despite the season. And if you do find Arndrir, tell him the Kamari pathfinders are on the move.”

I thanked them for their company and help, and as they took the path along the ridge towards the grassy slope, I headed down the hill, into Davorra.