The second day bled into the third, the civilized lands finally yielding to a wilder, hillier border country. The imperial post road became a well-worn track, the inns replaced by fortified trading posts where we camped in secure yards. On the fourth evening, with the first true peaks, a purple bruise on the northern horizon, Kaelen called a halt in a pine forest clearing beside a fast, rocky stream. No walls tonight. Just the trees, the sky, and our perimeter.
Camp was made with a swift, wordless precision that was becoming familiar. Pickets were set, a fire ring built, and the horses cared for. The knights worked as a single organism, each man knowing his task. I tended to Mist, brushing her down as I'd watched the soldiers do, my motions growing less clumsy with each evening.
