I returned to the private dining room. On the way I decided not to speak of the joining of wills. Not because I was jealous of Padral’s importance to destroying the Kathaldi, although I wasn’t happy about it, of course. It just seemed like sensitive information that shouldn’t be shared too freely.

When I opened the door I saw that everyone had finished eating, even Kralnik, which I assumed meant that mourning for Pashnik had affected his appetite. They were either drinking, drinking heavily, or just sitting there waiting. I stopped just inside the door, deciding against sitting down and having another drink. “Padral’s awake and will recover. Stegen’s still passed out, or asleep, but I think he’ll be fine, eventually, also. The great magery they accomplished has left them weak, though, so I don’t think we’ll be leaving tomorrow unless we put them both on a wagon.”

“Do you think they will be able to ride the day after?” Imprid asked.

“They will, even if we have to tie them to their saddles. We just can’t wait any longer than that. I want to be back in Ansdron before the snow falls, if possible. If we can’t manage that then as close to it as we can manage would be smart. I doubt any of us want to be caught travelling when the heavy snowstorms start.”

“I think that will suit us, as well.” Captain Klote said. “With everything that has happened here we will require at least a day to burn the dead and get everyone in Tarn ready to head to Ansdron.”

We spent the rest of the day, and the next, doing all of the things that were necessary for the people of Tarn to abandon the town and leave for Ansdron, as well as allow us to get back to our scouting mission. The elation most of the people in Tarn felt when the calvary arrived and we didn’t die had faded away into nothingness and it seemed we were left with profound sadness as we moved about our tasks. We had to burn the dead, including all of the drants, although they were just moved outside the walls and burned wherever. Everyone else was prepared and prayed over before several funeral pyres were lit. It was a rough couple of days, to be sure.

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There was also all of the packing to take care of, and I swear I saw as many tears from the townsfolk over what they had to leave as for the people that died fighting the drants. People, right? Captain Klote wouldn’t allow any wagons because they would slow everyone down. No one was happy about riding double, especially when they found out we had spare horses for everyone in our group. With the losses to our company we were able to donate some horses to the cause, but we didn’t receive a lot of gratitude in return. Tarn was quickly sliding down the ranks of my favorite towns although as I went to bed for the last time in the Tarn I knew I wasn’t thinking about how the town was soon to be destroyed. My mind was on everything that could continue to go wrong on our mission to Mount Kathaldi.

I had some bad dreams that night, but as usual I couldn’t remember them. I don’t mind not being able to recall my rare nightmares but I wish I could remember my good dreams. Sadly, they all fade away as soon as I awake, leaving only a feeling of either joy or fear. Today it was fear, which is an awful way to start the day.

I heroically pushed it away and got ready to ride. My father had been on the last watch and woke us all up before dawn, as instructed. We ate a quick breakfast then assembled in front of the inn. I nodded to Venzik and he nudged his horse into a slow walk toward the ruined gate.

Once we got through the gates Thilos sent his two elvish warders scouting ahead on the road. Venzik set Sir Aryoss and Vone in our front rank and the rest of us just followed behind. There wasn’t a lot of chitchat. Part of that was it being early morning but most of it was being tired after the battle the day before and sad about all the people who had died.

I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on while we rode. I was busy thinking, or moping. Call it what you will. Venzik, or Thilos, or somebody else called a break for lunch by some stream and I dismounted, which reminded me of how sore I was from the fight while I noticed how sore I also was from the ride. At least the dried meat, stale bread and hard cheese was bad enough that it distracted me from being sore. Mostly.

I was really in a mood, so I decided to share it with at least one of my companions. My mood was so foul that I decided it should be my father.