I opened my eyes to dawn's rose-red fingers lighting the sky. Next to my bed, my clothes had been cleaned of blood and laid out. Aloree snored nearby, and the campfire was down to its last embers.

I got myself dressed and looked around for my sword. Not next to me, but surely too much of a treasure to leave in the open. I closed my eyes and called out to it in my mind, and felt its presence nearby. It was in the wagon next to me in a concealed compartment, and shortly I had it out and its scabbard belted on. I went to get my crate of wares, sneaking along the forest by the side of the road, and found it clear of brigands. Eventually I came to the hiding spot of my wares, found them still intact, and took them up the road, this time walking in the open--no sense in sneaking with a noisy crate.

Returning to the wagon circle, I replaced my sword in the concealed compartment I had found it in, and placed the crate in the middle of the wagon. Time to earn my keep. I spotted my two fellow rearguard swordsmen standing by a fire across the wagon circle, and went to join them.

"Oi, fancy seeing you upright!" said Jom. "Thought for sure you'd be training with us lying down in a bed from blood loss!"

Pol grinned and handed me some rations and a skin. "Eat up, we've a long day ahead. Have you met our local slavedriver, Canmar?" At this he nodded to a scarred man with a short beard sitting in the nearby wagon, looking stoically into the distance. "I wager you'll be sick of him soon!"

I exchanged jibes with the two as I chewed my rations and drank from the skin. It contained a weak, but tasty beer--a welcome change from the water Aloree had given me the previous night. Soon enough, Canmar called us to order.

Canmar gave me an appraising look. "I can see you've had some training by how you hold yourself, but today, put that out of your mind. We're going to practice defending and attacking together, us four. The better we work as a team, and the less charging in by your lonesome you do, the less chance we'll have to carry you out from a puddle of your own blood again."

I gulped and nodded. Canmar handed out three wooden swords, and began to put us through our paces.

We practiced advancing together on on command. We practiced retreating together on command. We practiced surrounding a target, three on one, and attacking together, keeping out of the engagement range of each other's swords while bringing our swords to bear on the training dummy in the center. We practiced wagon defense, each of us taking one of the horseless sides of the wagon--left, right, or rear--and defending against Canmar below simulating an attack from the ground by a spearman. At one point Canmar let fly from below with his wooden pole at my head, and I ducked and used the wagon rim appropriately to avoid a hit. He nodded appreciatively.

"Never forget you're vulnerable to spears and arrows regardless of your high ground. Use cover and don't make yourself too big a target. If it comes down to a fight from the wagon I'll be there picking people off with a bow as you repel boarders, but I'd rather my guards not need the help."

I looked at the bow he'd nodded to. "Got a spare?" I asked.

He grinned. "Pol, Jom, you're on break. Let's see if the new guy can hold a bow as well as he holds a sword."

He rummaged around in the wagon for an unstrung bow and a quiver of arrows, and led the three of us outside the wagon circle where he already had a target set up. Clearly, he took his practice seriously. While I strung my bow, bending the wood around my left thigh as the bottom tip rested on my right shin and looping the string round the top tip with my free hand, Canmar nocked his arrow on the left side of his bow, pulled back the string with three fingers of his right hand, and let fly. His arrow thunked in just to the left of the bullseye.

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He nodded at me. "Your turn."

I stood as I had been taught, sideways to the target, and nocked the arrow on the right side of my bow. I wrapped my right thumb around the string, pulled back, and as Canmar opened his mouth to critique my form, let fly.

My arrow thunked directly in the middle of the bullseye. Jom and Pol whooped and hollered.

Canmar looked at me. "Beginner's luck," he said with a cock of his head. "Let's shoot 30 more and see how you do."

We continued shooting, three arrows at a time, and Canmar proved the superior archer overall--not a surprise, since he obviously practiced every day. Still, I held my own.

"You're good enough not to be a danger to our side," said Canmar, "and you can keep the bow while we're rearguarding. But put it down and draw sword if enemies get close."

Soon it was time for the wagon train to get going. Aloree ran up to me and belted on my sword, Swelfalster, then looked at Canmar and said, "He is still my charge. Take good care of him; I don't want my healing to go to waste."

"Aye, lassie. You'll have him back in one piece after the day's travel."

With this we boarded the rear wagon and Aloree went back to her own, across the circle. The front wagon, next to us, moved off, followed by the next. Soon the whole circle had unwound, and ours followed the second-to-last wagon onto the road.

The day passed without incident. Jom and Pol talked shop, talked about the look on Canmar's face when my first arrow outshot his, and occasionally gave me a ribbing about the presumed romance between me and Aloree--not that there had been any possibility of it, between bleeding out and recovery, but that didn't stop them. They also had some handy rumors--here I learned that the kingdom of Talore also had seen a recent spate of disappearance of magic-users, and that it was largely seen in the towns adjacent to the Black Citadel's territory.

As the sun drew low in the sky, we pulled into a clearing by the roadside, circling the wagons back up. Aloree ran up to our wagon as it came to a halt, the final wagon in the circle, a large basket dangling from her hands. I hopped off, and she gestured me to come with her and led me up the hill next to the circle.

"See? In one piece and not even keeled over!" Canmar called after us.

Aloree took a sheet out of her basket, laid it on the ground, and sat down, then motioned for me to sit down next to her. Next came two bowls, a lidded pot, and a ladle. She spooned some broth from the pot into each of our bowls, closed her eyes and put her hands together in a silent prayer, then held the bowl toward me. "Drink."

I was pleasantly surprised that the broth was warm, and tasted freshly cooked. I continued to sip at my broth in silence as she did the same. Finally, first bowl drunk, I spoke. "How'd you cook this? We've been on the road all day."

"Mana-powered self-heating cookpot. The broth should help restore your vitality and help regenerate your lost blood. I'm glad there was no more fighting today; I'm not sure how much endurance you've recovered." Aloree ladled more broth into my bowl and hers, and repeated her instruction. "Drink."

After we had consumed a second bowl, she took out a loaf of bread, broke it and gave me half, and began to dab her broth bowl with it. I did the same. Aloree broke the silence, saying, "Vel... tell me about where you're from."

I told her about Tarmel, its hills, its forests, its meadows. In between bites of bread, I told her of my favorite place, a meadow between the forest and a river, where butterflies flew and wild strawberries grew. She, in return, told me of Talore, and of a clifftop forest above a sparkling ocean, and running around the meadow above the trail down to the beach, laughing happily.

Soon, the sun had set, with gold-tinted wisps lighting the clouds above its resting place. On the other side of the sky, a full moon rose. Then, a wolf howled.

"Eeek!" cried Aloree, and clutched at me, burying her head on my chest.

"Sorry," she said, still head down. "Just startled. I know I'm safe with you." She looked up at me then, a smile on her face and eyes half-closed.

I leaned forward, moving my lips towards hers.