Josarl slept in luxury that night. Newly minted King Deff made great efforts to pay back his debt, leaving Josarl full of good food and sleeping quite soundly. In the m, after a bountiful breakfast, a servant led Josarl to the room where the Order of the Anvil’s other members gregated. A rge map of the ti ainted onto the wall to his left. As he walked dowepped floor into the tral pit the versation stopped so that his future panions could greet him. Three wore different colored doublets, though the tral man had the gaudiest one.

  “I am Lord Venning,” said the middle man. “Earl of Voulsbury and I will be leading this expedition!”

  Lord Venning ale and his pronounced in a malformed manner. He spoke with a boisterous voice that could no more hold experiehan a sieve could hold water.

  “This one earned nothing,” whispered the hammer. “All he owns was hao him by his parents or stolen from those beh his social station, like you.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” said Josarl. “Josarl Starx, in deference.”

  “A joyous meet!” said Lord Venning. “And these fine men will be our escort! There is Sir Swordalot and Sir Frahe elf is Ayunndrilsadil, an archer, and the dwarf is Bogdin, a fierce ax wielding beserker!”

  “A pleasure to meet you all. Who are these two?”

  “Hm?” Lord Venning seemed surprised to see two young boys standing in a er, dressed well in a peasant sort of way. “Oh, they’re the squires to our two knights. A necessary displeasure.”

  “They are your rades,” whispered the hammer. “They are the ones whose bor the knights ot do without. The knights hem just to get into their armor.”

  “And their names are?”

  Lord Venning ughed. “You don’t o know the names of the help!”

  “They are not nobles?”

  The knights looked at each other.

  “A pgue,” said Lord Venning slowly, “took many. When it was over, we had a she of squires. Some peasants are employed as such. But enough about them. e! We have to pn the journey!”

  The lord led Josarl over to the map. It was a regional map of the kingdom and its immediate neighbors. Directly east was Lessdor and their destination.

  “I’d say we best make straight for Bankheim,” said Lord Venning, pointing out a symbol that looked like twates. “It is the most direct. However, I uand how some may be hesitant to take this route. Bankheim will almost certainly be the ter of an enemy attack. That said, with swiftness we reach Darkgate before the enemy mobilization is plete and cross the border with help from the locals. Any questions? Excellent! We leave tomorrow!”

  “Do we have supplies?” asked Josarl.

  “Supplies?” Lord Venning said the same way he reacted to the squires.

  “Supplies. We won’t make it far if we starve first.”

  “Ah, yes. I guess we should spend today gathering those things. We’ll need a butler and some maids, yes?”

  “Food, tents and horses to start with, my lord,” said Sir Swordalot.

  “Then butlers?”

  Sir Swordalot shook his head.

  “No servants, at all?”

  Sir Swordalot shook his head.

  “What cruel misadventure am I ensced in!”

  Josarl stepped away. Looking around, he found his own feelings about Lord Venning’s wailing reflected on the faces of his panions. The lord reminded him of several he’d met bae.

  In an effort to disrupt the unpleasantness, he asked, “What’s this shaded area here?” He ran his finger along a se stretg from the far north down past the southern border.

  “That would be the tial shelf edge,” said Sir Frandle. “We are on the lower shelf and must asd a cliff to reach Bankheim.”

  “Thank you. Will there be any other threats?”

  “Possibly,” said Sir Swordalot. “Your ow firmed that orks had crossed the border, so a raiding party is not beyond question. The dark lord also has ents, such as the Red Rider and the Kalthoks. Plenty of other threats lurk out there.”

  Josarl nodded. “And how long would the jourake?”

  “Tate is roughly thirty days,” said Ayunndrilsadil. “As man walks. Our destination is only a days stroll beyond the Lessdor border, but it tains the greatest tration of orks in the world. Stealth and guile will lead us safely through.”

  “But it will take time,” said Bogdin.

  “It is as the dwarf says.”

  Josarl suppressed a sigh.

  “This mission only serves to secure your servitude. Freedom in this nd is reserved only for the nobility,” the hammer whispered.

  “I suppose we best begin,” said Josarl.

  Supplies were easy to collect when the king anded everyoo help, and in a few hours they were prepared. After a solid night of rest, they roused just before dawn to begin their journey.

  Josarl keenly watched the ndscape as they rode through. No great plumes of smoke wafted in the distance, but the evidence of the raids remained apparent. At first only a handful of peasants passed them on the road east. By the end of their first week on the road, vilges worth of people were fleei.

  “Must they plead so much,” decred Lord Venning with disgust. “It makes me unfortable.”

  “The st vestige of his sce reared its head,” whispered the hammer.

  “They are people in need. Do you have no sympathy?” said Josarl.

  “They act like I should be doing something!” Lord Venning scoffed. “Preposterous! I am no more responsible for them than any other lord. Their duty is to serve; to give, not take.”

  “Is that all peasants are to you?”

  “We all have our p the world, Josarl. Does your nd not have lords and peasants?”

  “It does, but we do not scoff when the peasants’ homes are burned by marauders. We shelter them. Feed them. Such is the duty of the ruler to their people.”

  “In public, perhaps,” the lord said not quite under his breath.

  Josarl looked away, unwilling to accept the pany he was keeping. He didn’t like w if the lords at home had such beliefs. Instead he fixed his gaze on a ridge ahead, to the north east. A rider on a horse stood in the shade of a copse, watg the Order.

  “Is that one of yours?” asked Josarl.

  “’t tell at this distance,” said Sir Frandle.

  “Looks toht-backed to be an ork,” chimed in Sir Swordalot.

  “Red Rider?” asked Sir Frandle.

  “Possibly.”

  The horseman disappeared from the ridge and the group put it from their minds. They rode until just before dusk, when they chose a lovely little hollow off the road to camp in. Hemmed in by thick bushes, they felt safe enough to build a fire and cook.

  “I wao learn swordsmanship,” Ayunndrilsadil was saying in respoo a question. “But father always told me that we were a forest people and bows were the ons of hunters, not swords.”

  “Youse had swords enough during the Old Wars,” said Bogdin.

  “Those were elves from beyond our woods. My people detest the things.” Ayunndrilsadil shook his head. “I ot not fathom why. A knife feels far too small against a sword and a bow without arrows is just a stid string.”

  A twig snapped in the darkness.

  “What was that?” asked Sir Frandle, immediately following it up with, “Ah, it was nothing.”

  “Why would you assume that without iigating?” said Josarl. “If it was enough to mention it is enough to iigate.”

  “Alright, send a squire then,” said Lord Venning.

  “ they even fight?” asked Josarl.

  “You are a very difficult person, you know that right?”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes.” said Sir Frandle.

  “A bit.” said Sir Swordsalot.

  “A bit.” said Sir Frandle.

  “They have knives!” chimed in Lord Venning.

  Josarl rolled his eyes from ihe safety of his helmet. “How effective would they be against armor?”

  Bushes crackled and scrapped as they burst into the enclosure. dull armor, adorned with red garments below the pting and standing about two decimeters shorter than the group’s average, the Red Rider bore down on them ferociously. Bogdin parried the first blow. Lord Venning cried, “To me! Form around me!” Ayunndrilsadil came to his side and the two knights stood between their lord and the Red Rider. Josarl followed the example of the squires and stood off to the side, patiently waiting for the violeo end.

  Lord Venning cried out, “Charge!” as Bogdin stumbled to the side, unharmed, but defeated handily. The knights rushed the Rider while Ayunndrilsadil fired off an arrow. The arrow flew wide. Lord Venning followed the knights with a little distance, a prudehat would be unduly rewarded. With skill, swiftness and style, the Red Rider dispatched the knights with two blocks and two strikes. Lord Venning stopped in his tracks. Bogdin joined Ayunndrilsadil while Josarl cast around for a way out of an obviously disadvantaged e. Then came the yell.

  Vroll Keeta burst through the bushes, sword in hand, fire in her eyes. A swift ssh khe rider’s sword away from the guard position and she kicked him in the knee, dropping the assaint for a moment. With that window she grabbed a branch from the fire and waved it at the rider, driving them back.

  “Flee, rade.” whispered the hammer. “You endahe pn.”

  The Red Rider looked straight at Josarl. They nodded and vanished into the bushes with the abrupthat they appeared with. After a minute, hooves thundered away from them.

  “Thank you, Keeta,” said Josarl. With the fight over, he could see her clearly. Her previous appearance gave rise to a barbaricept in Josarl’s mind. However as she stood in her leather armor, reinforced with only the most necessary steel pting, he realized he was supposed to be realizing something right then.

  “Of course,” said Keeta. “I did not expect to enter you when I heard the sounds of battle.”

  “We are grateful,” said Lord Venning. “Miss?”

  “Vroll.”

  “Our unending gratitude, Miss Vroll.”

  “Will you be heading back tate?” asked Josarl.

  “I am,” Keeta said.

  “We ride for there as well. Would you join us?”

  “I would. Perhaps the Red Rider will return. To sy such a one would bring great honor in the homend.”

  “I doubt su opportunity will reveal itself,” said Josarl, quietly enough that no one heard.

  From that night on, they fao more danger and fifteen days after they began their jourhey came in sight of Bankheim.