Chapter 2 - West

His stomach seemed worse than his head, when he took stock of himself. The idea of eating anything made his stomach churn. It didn't help that his mouth tasted like he'd eaten something off the stable floor. He grunted as he stood up again and made his way over to the washing table where he poured some of the water from the pitcher into a cup to rinse his mouth out. He poured more into the bowl and washed his face too, which seemed to help him feel a little better. He took a look at himself in the mirror, his shirt still half-buttoned, and dishevelled. The slight stubble of morning was beginning to show on on his chin, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His hair was in total disarray, and he took the opportunity to run his comb briefly through it, before unbuttoning the shirt the rest of the way. He pulled off what was left of the previous evening's outfit and was halfway into his armor before he realized he didn't have to go to school anymore.

He pulled his armor off, opting instead for black trousers and a loose white shirt. He did belt on his sword. He had earned the right to wear it whenever he chose, and had been wearing it for class for so long that it sometimes felt odd not to have it.

He did not want to stay in the house. His head was heavy, his stomach was still churning, and his mouth still felt swollen and coarse. The last thing he wanted was to see his father today. He pulled on his boots. Leaning over to do it did nothing good for his head.

He made his way out of the house. His brothers were still asleep, so slipping past them was easy. He had been concerned that one of them would be awake. He lingered in the sitting room a moment, knowing he would actually miss them if he were to just up and leave. He moved on.

There were a few servants out and about. They nodded as he passed. Some wished him a good morning, and some of them he acknowledged by name. Father's elven slave passed, carrying a bucket towards the kitchens, and he acknowledged the elf with a nod before moving on.

He had to walk for a while to leave the estate district. He did not have a destination in mind, but the fresh air helped. Eventually he started smelling the assorted smells of the markets, and he wondered if food would help or hurt his stomach.

He wandered the rows of merchants a while, stopping occasionally to get a better whiff of the occasional roasting meats or nuts. He looked at fruits, sometimes picking one up and looking it over with a critical eye. Nothing seemed like it would soothe the ache in his stomach. He was starting to wonder if it had anything to do with the previous night's drinking at all.

"Coffee fer ye lad?" a voice near him asked. "Ye look like ye had quite a night. Must've been one 'o them parties I heard about. Cup 'o this here imported brew'll set ye right."

Matner turned to look down at a sturdy looking dwarven man with peppered gray and black hair and a wooden peg in the place of his right leg. He had a respectably-sized vendor space, with three wagons open to show wares and two more to carry supplies. A few other people milled around nearby, talking to potential customers, as this dwarf did, or packing wares into boxes. It appeared that they were getting ready to leave but making a few last sales as they packed up. He looked at the couple of pots of coffee that were brewing in the small firepit. He had to admit, it did smell enticing.

"Aye, smell good don't they?" the dwarf encouraged. "Ground from the finest beans that can be found, I tell ya. Ye won't regret it."

"How much?" he asked, reaching into his pocket.

"'Round 'ere, two coppers fer a cup," the dwarf said.

"Around here?" Matner asked, "The price changes from place to place?"

"The price changes on me mood, lad. 'Tis the money that changes. Different coins in different lands. Here the coins're a mite heavier than they are out west, fer example."

Matner pulled out two copper coins and handed them over. "Then I'll take the coffee before I say something to annoy you and you make it three," he said with a smile.

"A wise man ye are, sensible, too. Would that I had more like ye when I move on."

"And when will that be?" he asked, curious.

"In about an hour, by the looks o' things," the dwarf answered. An idea struck Matner. He started to ask where the caravan was headed, but suddenly it did not matter.

"You wouldn't by chance be looking to hire help, then, would you?"

"Skilled help, maybe," the dwarf replied. "Ye've got a sword, but have ye a gleanin' how ta use it?"

"I've just grad--I've been thoroughly trained," he said, suddenly thinking maybe he should not mention the academy. He did not want to risk seeming like empty boasting. "My name's Matner, and I might be interested in accompanying you. What are you paying, if you don't mind my asking?"

"If ye carry yer own weight, ye'll get fed. If'n ye don't, ye'll get left where I get tired o' ye. Anything past that gets earned."

"I'm not afraid to earn my wage," he said.

"Ye've got about an hour, if ye've got stuff to go fetch."

"I'll be right back, then," Matner said. He nodded before turning sharply--as he had drilled on the parade grounds--and walked away. He waited to get out of the dwarf's sight before running all out, holding his sword hilt to keep it from flapping and catching between his legs as he ran.

The excitement he felt made his feet fly across the pavement as he retraced his steps to the estate. He forced himself to slow to a brisk walk as he entered the gate, trying to look as if he was busy, but not in a hurry. He saw his mother and sister off taking tea in the garden with a couple of mother's friends. His heart pounded in his chest as he returned their waves, hoping they wouldn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Father would be busy, either in his office downtown or his study here at the estate. He'd likely have lots of follow-up from the previous evening. Matner took the route farthest away from the study as he made his way back to his room. Velander was, fortunately, nowhere to be seen. Endrew, however, was in the sitting room. He looked as if he was pretending to be a pirate.

"Aaaaarrr Matnerrrr!" he called cheerfully when he caught sight of his brother. "Wherrre ye beeeen?"

"Nowhere special," Matner shrugged, trying to head directly to his room. Endrew wasn't letting him pass that easily, however.

"Father's been looking for you," Endrew said, dropping the attempted pirate accent. "So's Velander. You gotta write like a thousand thank you letters. Maybe more."

"Thanks, Drew," he replied, opening his bedroom door.

"Aren't you going to go find them?" Endrew cocked his head, looking surprised.

"Not just now," Matner told him. "I've just got something quick I need to do first." He went to close the door behind him, but Endrew scooted in before Matner could say anything.

"Whatcha gotta do?"

He just stood there for a moment, frozen. He was not going to have time to say good-byes. He considered changing his mind, and letting the dwarf leave without him. He was torn. He knew he should not just leave, but he felt trapped--he argued with himself that this was possibly his one chance.

"Whatcha gotta do?" Endrew repeated. He did not want to lie to his little brother. He did not know what kind of trouble the truth would cause.

"I'm going to get into trouble, Drewie," he said at last. "I'm going to go help someone. It means I have to go away for a while. Father's going to be pretty upset, I think. Now, I need to pack some things real quick, and I think I should leave a note. Here, I need to put on my armor. You can help."

He knew letting his brother feel useful would keep him from doing anything else. He hoped it would also soften the blow once he was gone.

"Are you going away?" Endrew asked, while trying to help with a buckle.

"For a while, yes," Matner answered. "I got a job. It's not with the Royal Guard, but it's a job, and I'm going to take it. It means I need to leave for a while. I don't know how long, but I'll come back and visit eventually."

"Now, here's the most important thing I need you to do, Endrew," he added. "Father and Mother will be upset for a while. If you know and don't tell them they might get mad about that. So I need you to promise me you won't tell anyone until they find out on their own. You know how Father is about promises. If I make you promise he can't get mad at you. Promise you won't tell?"

"I promise," Endrew said with an overly serious looking nod.

"Good. Now I've got to finish and write a note. Give me a hug and then go run and play."

Matner knelt down so he was at equal height with his brother so they could hug. Afterwards, Endrew hesitated, scuffing a foot on the floor.

"What is it?" Matner asked him, as he continued to strap on the last few pieces of armor.

"You will come back, right? You won't go away forever?"

"Of course not, Drew. But I'm big now, and when you're big you're supposed to make up your own mind on the things you do and places you go. I've made up my mind to go with some people and help them for a while is all. And when I come back I'll have lots of new stories to tell you."

Endrew seemed to ponder all of that for a while before saying anything. Then he nodded again.

"Alright, Matner. But you have to promise you'll come back."

Matner laughed, and ruffled his brother's hair.

"I promise, Drew."

"Good." Endrew picked up his wooden sword again and waved it towards Matner. "And ye'll brrring me trrreasurrrre too! Arrrrr!" Then he was off, running out the door to Matner's room, chasing after invisible rival pirates.

Matner sighed as he buckled his sword back on over his armor and quickly stuffed a few changes of clothes and some personal items into his largest duffle. Then he scrawled a quick note, being purposefully vague about where he was going and what he'd be doing. He apologized to them and promised to return one day. He told them he loved them and then sealed the note with some wax, leaving it on his desk where it would be sure to be found later on.

Then he left his room, waving at Endrew as he went. Endrew waved cheerfully back, before making another invisible playmate walk the "plank" over the long table at one side of the room.

He managed to avoid most of the servants as he left the house, although he thought he caught mother's slave out of the corner of one eye. When he turned to check, however, he couldn't see the elf, so he wasn't altogether sure. He veered around, to stay as far out of sight of the garden and his mother as he left the estate, and then sped as quickly as he could back to the marketplace.

He found himself hunkering down a bit, trying not to let the guards at the gate get too good a look at him as they made their way past. It occurred to him that his father might send someone after him, and he wanted to get as much distance between himself and the city as possible to prevent anyone from catching up. Father would be unlikely to send someone very far, and it would probably be Velander that would be sent. If they didn't know which gate he left by, it would increase Matner's odds of getting away without confrontation. The guards seemed more interested in watching the people coming into the city than those leaving, however, so Matner felt pretty sure none of them would be able to identify him specifically.

Once they were outside the gates, the traffic on the road lightened up considerably, but was still crowded enough to keep them at a trot. Matner realized that he'd never been out of the city for anything more than a training exercise or the occasional picnic outings with mother or hunting excursions with father. His heart bubbled up with excitement at the idea of seeing new places and trying new things. It seemed to take forever for Frank to get the horse past the bulk of the people, horses, and wagons making their way in and out of the city so that they could catch up to the caravan. Despite that, Matner was disappointed to realize that he could still clearly see the city gates behind him as he hopped down off Frank's horse.

Fredrickson himself was standing to one side of the road, barking orders to some of the people through teeth gritted around a pipe that looked as if it had been carved out of the gnarled branch of an old tree. He had an ornately carved wooden cane as well, which he leaned on heavily when he walked. A few people made their way around the slowly moving wagons, securing canvases and the goods inside a little more firmly at Fredrickson's commands. Matner, not knowing where to go, stood awkwardly to one side until Frank pointed him to a spot midway along the caravan.

"That's your post for now, boy," he said. "At least until we get an idea of what you're capable of. If you've got any questions, ask me for now. We'll introduce you around proper when we stop."

"Yes, sir," Matner replied, habitually saluting the man and moving to his place.

"Matner," Frank said, raising an eyebrow. "We're not in the military, though some of us have been, but there's no need to salute."

"Right," Matner said, nodding. "Sorry."

His bag was put in one of the wagons, so at least he did not have to carry it. The other guards were all equipped about the same as Frank, except that some of them had shields and some of them had crossbows hanging from their saddles. All of them were mounted. Matner ended up being the only one walking.

The caravan set a good pace for walking in the summer heat, and he was thankful to have good boots. It became clear that it was the wagons setting the pace. They creaked and squeaked and groaned as they rolled along. Two horses pulled each one.

He did have time to look around as he marched alongside one of the wagons. Tightly packed farms surrounded the city. Fences and lines of trees marked borders between the fields around one house and the next. Farmers moved among their crops busily.

They stopped for a short lunch and he was happy for the break. He was thankful for the marching practices that had been part of his schooling. They had done some longer marches, usually five miles, to get out to some larger practice field for mock battle exercises. He thought that by lunch they had perhaps already gone nearly that far. Training marches had been at perhaps a slightly faster pace. They had never had wagons.

Towards the end of the day they started seeing the farmhouses clustered together more into little hamlets and villages. Each had five or six buildings other than the farmhouses and barns.

They passed directly through one without stopping. Word was spread through the group that they would stop for the night at the next one. Chickens wandered about, along with a couple of dogs. A young girl, maybe five years old, walked alongside them for a short while before she got distracted and ran off.

Frank sent one of the men ahead for a while, and they spoke earnestly when he returned. Matner wasn't close enough to hear what they were saying, but Frank relayed it to Fredrickson as well.

The next village looked no different than the first, and they stopped just before it. At that point, Matner realized that the one sent ahead had scoped out a good spot for them to pull the wagons off the road and make camp, as he was the one giving directions now. Once the wagons were in place, Frank started giving the men instructions while Fredrickson began directing the people who hopped off the wagons. Matner found himself handed a shovel and told to go dig a pit just downwind of camp. He was puzzled, but didn't argue it, taking the shovel and heading off in the direction indicated. He saw the others of the caravan opening up the canvas of the wagons, rolling them up along the sides to reveal the wares, while the guards took care of horses and began setting up tents.

As he began digging the pit, he realized he didn't have a tent of his own. Any time he'd left the city, he'd used one of the tents the family owned or a tent provided by the school. He had brought some blankets that would work for a fairly effective bedroll, but it hadn't occurred to him that he'd need a tent. He wondered what other items he had forgotten to think of, but really wasn't sure. He returned his focus on digging the pit, making it big enough to use as a defensive position for a man to hide inside, since it hadn't been specified how big they needed it.

When he returned, he saw that villagers had come out from the village to see what the merchants of the caravan had to offer. Fredrickson was busily chatting with several of them, showing them wares from the wagons. Upon his return, one of the guards headed off to where Matner had been, and he assumed the man was going to check on Matner's work. A fire pit had been set up, and Frank set Matner to getting the fire started in it, with some of the kindling and a couple logs that had already been collected. He was told to collect more firewood once he had the fire properly going.

"Well, that's the biggest damn crap hole I ever saw!" someone behind him exclaimed as Matner was finally getting the flames to catch. He looked to see the man who'd gone to check on the hole standing there, laughing. Suddenly, Matner realized what the hole was actually being used for, and felt his cheeks get red with embarassment.

"Well, a' least the fire's normal size," another said.

"Eh, be easy on the kid," a third butted in. "After all, some come here not knowin' which end of a sword is which..."

"Hey, do we know that about this one?" the second one added.

Frank interrupted by stepping in and making all the introductions. The other eight guards had been around the caravan for varying lengths of time, although none longer than Frank. The newest had joined just in the spring.

There were also five other workers with the caravan, and Frank introduced him to all of them, as well. There was a slightly chubby cook named Ennick, who was already pulling a big, black iron skillet from the back of one of the wagons. There was a seamstress, Evara, who was also responsible for stitching up the "medical mishaps," as Frank put it. There was an armorer and metal smith, Tam, who was tall and skinny and losing what was left of his gray hair. The second woman with the troupe was Shannah, who was in charge of the horses. Finally there was Fat Ren, who was already helping Ennick get dinner prepared and who took care of fixing things and keeping the wagons rolling.

Everyone seemed friendly enough, so far. Some of the guards gave him skeptical looks, and several responded with things like, "hi, kid," and "good to meet ya, kid." None of them seemed resentful of him being added to the group, and he wondered that a couple seemed actually glad that he had joined them. He wondered how many guards the caravan normally traveled with, and how often they had been needed.

Frank explained that there would be a watch rotation, and that being the newest of the group, he would be on the watch that was right in the middle of the night. His watch partner was to be Sameth, the guard who'd joined last spring. Once it was determined that Matner didn't have a tent, Frank told him to bunk in with Sameth. The caravan had more than enough tents on hand for everyone, but generally set up only enough for people to bunk in pairs. Frank had his own tent, however, and Fredrickson had a small house in the back half of one of the wagons.

Matner was surprised to find that there wasn't much social gap between the workers and the guards. They all seemed to be on even ground with one another when it came to conversation at dinner. He found himself dodging a lot of questions, as best he could, not wanting to talk about his family or schooling. While he managed to be reasonably vague, he could tell that a few of them, Frank included, seemed a bit wary of him. He didn't want to lie to them though, so he mentioned having had some schooling and needing to start using that training to make a living for himself. He tried to divert attention away by asking questions of the others instead. He started with Frank, hoping that by ingratiating himself with the one the others would feel more comfortable with him.

"What did you do before this?" Matner asked Frank, when the opportune moment arose.

"You mean before Old Fredrickson here?" Frank asked, laughing.

"Sure," Matner replied.

"Heh, funny about that one," one of the others butted in.

"First I was a conscripted soldier for a while. Then I used to be a highwayman," Frank said, "preying on caravans like this one. I stayed in one area a little too long, and a couple of local knights were getting close to getting me cornered. I knew I needed to leave the area for a while, and I didn't want to travel alone. So, I figured I'd hook up with a caravan that hadn't heard about me."

"So this one caravan here had come into town, where normally I hit caravans on their way out of town. I told them that I had been conscripted as a soldier and knew how to fight, and could help keep them safe from highwaymen that were known to hunt those areas--all true, of course."

"Now, I had always been the gentleman type. I never robbed anyone blind, and I avoided killing. We passed through one area before long known for a couple of more ruthless bandits. They had a reputation for killing and raping. I helped spot their ambush and turned it around. Turned out there was a reward out for that one and his band. After that I just haven't seen the need to be anywhere but here."

A couple of other guards had been soldiers before joining up with Old Frederickson. One had been part of a mercenary group, and when he had suddenly found himself the last one left, decided he wanted a safer post.

"As fer me," Sameth said, "I ain't been nothing exciting before. I come from a little farmstead out near Mountain Rest. My Pa's the blacksmith round about there, an' that's what he was raisin' me ta be. There's a girl back there. Her Pa's the innkeep, and she'd never marry a blacksmith. So when the caravan came ta Mountain Rest I joined up to seek out riches and 'venture. If I can make myself into something better, I'll get her ta marry me one day, I wills."

Of the other four, two were twin brothers who'd lived on the streets of Basket Keep, until Fredrickson had taken them on as a punishment when he'd caught them trying to steal from his wagons. The third was actually more of a woodsman, than guard, and took care of any hunting for game that needed doing when the caravan was traveling through longer stretches of woods. In addition to the sword and crossbow, he also had a longbow that he kept handy in one of the wagons for hunting. He mentioned that he preferred the crossbow from horseback, but always hunted on foot.

The forth did not tell his own story, and it seemed no one actually knew what it was. He was introduced as "Dir' Ketten." The only thing anyone seemed to know was that he was from beyond the mountains, where it was rumored that there were humans living in nomad clans that fought both with and against each other. Matner had heard plenty of tales about the kinds of creatures that lurked in the mountains themselves, but little was actually known about what was beyond them. But every so often, an individual would come from the mountains, speaking a language no one had heard before. Some made trade and headed back. Others seemed to wander. No one was sure if they were looking for something, or just lost in lands strange to them. Matner had never seen one before, much less met one.

In basic appearance, the man looked, to Matner, no different from many men he'd seen before. He had the same pale skin, unlike some of the people who lived closer to the sea, where the river ended. Those he'd met from there had much darker skin. He had dark, short, curly hair and a dark beard to match, both cut short. His eyes were dark too, but blue, and they seemed to watch everything and give away nothing. It was told that he'd just shown up one day and somehow gotten the job without ever uttering a word. He and Fredrickson had just communicated with Dir Ketten nodding or shaking his head. When Matner looked over at the man, upon hearing this, he nodded as if to confirm the story, with a look that might have been amusement on his face. Matner couldn't be sure, however, as it disappeared again quickly. He wore similar armor to the others, however his shield was painted darker and Matner realized he had two swords on his belt, both slightly curved and broader at the tip than the hilt.

After everyone finished eating, there was about an hour or so of everyone just sitting around talking. Matner just listened to it all. Old Frederickson mentioned that this stop in Calster had been slightly more profitable than last year. A few people shared stories and jokes about people they had seen or dealt with in some fashion. Ennick did eventually point out to Matner that it was bad luck to talk about a town until you had left it.

It was not long before people were turning in for the night. Matner waited until a few had before he followed suit. He didn't want to seem too eager to go to sleep, but he also did not want to wait up late. He was rather tired.

He climbed into the tent and put together his bedroll. He pulled off his boots and took stock of his feet. They were a little sore, but not blistering. He grabbed fresh socks and set them on top of his boots. He pulled off most of the rest of his clothes and set them so they'd be easy for him to find at watch time.

Sameth came in not long after he did, as Matner was setting the clothes out.

"Ah, good thinking," Sameth pointed out. "I usually do that, too."

"I kind of expect most do," Matner said. "It seemed like a good idea, anyway."

"Well," Sameth said, "there are some that just dump their boots and sleep dressed. And there have been some nights where everyone has even slept in their boots to be ready for trouble. But Old Frederickson says that rarely happens close to major cities like Calster."

Without further conversation, Sameth undressed and climbed into his bedroll to go to sleep. It did not take Matner long to fall asleep.

Part of Matner's training had involved a one-month excursion to a local wooded area, where they had camped each night and traveled each day. There had been some survival instruction and hunting included. Every night, they had been woken to stand a different watch shift, to help train them to be able to wake and be alert at a moment's notice. So, when one of the guards came to the tent and opened the flap, the noise and proximity woke him. He sat up immediately, stifling the yawn that tried to overtake him as he did.

"You two lads are up," the guard, Linden, said into the tent. Sameth stirred, and mumbled a response, to which Linden reached down and tugged the young man's leg.

"I'm up, I'm up," Sameth replied, pulling back the covers and sitting up. Sammeth didn't even try to stifle his yawn as he started fumbling for his clothes in the darkness. Linden gave Matner a nod before moving back out of the tent.

Matner was glad he had laid his things out as he had, and had no difficulty getting dressed quickly. He was out of the tent long before Sameth was, wondering what might be different between patrolling a caravan and patrolling a military camp. He imagined that the watch might be similar enough in nature, and was surprised when Sameth came out and plopped himself down in front of the fire.

"Anything out there tonight, Raleth?" Sameth asked of the other guard who'd been on watch.

"Not much," Raleth replied. "Heard a couple of wolves howlin' at one point, but they seemed pretty far off. Not likely they'd come too near the fire this close to the city anyway. Should be pretty quiet."

"Thanks."

"You show Matner here what to do, eh?"

"Yup."

"Night then," Raleth said, heading off to one of the tents.

"Night," Matner found himself echoing Sameth. Linden waved a hand in their direction before crawling into a tent too, and then Matner found himself standing next to the fire, alone with Sameth.

"So now, basically, we wait and keep the fire going," Sameth said.

"So no perimeter checks or anything like that?" Matner asked. Sameth chuckled but did not so much as look up from the fire.

"Most likely to come into camp would be some kind of animal. Wolves, bears even in some parts. Bandits and the like generally don't. They're more like to wait in ambush during the day. They pick a spot and wait for people like us to come to them. They're not interested in sneaking about at night."

"Oh," Matner said. "I see."

"On the other hand," Sameth suggested, "if there was no watch and the fire got out of control and a wagon caught fire, that'd be bad."

"Yes, that would be. Fair enough. So we're paired up because we're new and they want to make sure I don't fall asleep on the job?"

"You catch on quick," Sameth replied. He pulled some bread out of a pocket and handed Matner some. "Here, grab a stick and have some toast."

Crickets chirped away, and Matner found himself idly looking around, both at the camp in general and at the stars. The wagons and tents were mostly set in a circle. He could hear snoring coming from more than one direction. The watch went uneventfully with little talking between them. Mostly Sameth yawned and poked at the fire, occasionally tossing another chunk of split log on.

Eventually Sameth stood up, stretched, and said, "That's enough. I'll wake the next shift and then I'm going to take advantage of that nice pit over there before crawling back into bed. Wait until he comes out." Sameth went to the tent next to theirs, sticking his head in to wake someone. He pulled his head back out and nodded to Matner before somewhat stumbling his way towards the latrine pit.

It only took a couple of minutes before one of the twins came out of the tent. Matner stood up and let him know that everything had been quiet, and then headed back into his tent to go back to sleep. He was aware of Sameth coming in, but fell asleep shortly afterwards.

The sounds of people stirring woke him again, despite the fact that it was still dark in the tent. He laid there for a moment, listening, before determining that it was people from the caravan moving about the camp, not intruders of any sort. A quiet laugh from someone and the gentle rattle of what sounded like pots confirmed his suspicions, and he relaxed back into his bedroll for a bit, the realization of where he was starting to truely sink in.

I've left home, he thought to himself. He tried to assess what all that meant, both to him and to his family.

Father will be furious, was the first conclusion. So will Velander, but only because Father is. Endrew will just miss me, but he should handle it the best since I got to say goodbye to him. Mother will be sad, so Isavelle will pick up on her mood and be sad too. He felt a little bad that he hadn't been able to give little Isavelle a hug before going, and wished he could have said goodbye to his mother. But he knew that doing so would have made things more difficult in the end. He also mulled over what Rafer and Leyeb would think of what he'd done.

For a moment, he felt guilty, thinking of how upset some people would be and how Father would have to inform the Captain of the Royal Guard that Matner was gone. While it wasn't a requirement, most families sent a son to one area or another of the military for service these days. The military forces had been diminished years ago, in the Flesh War, and for a while it had been law that each family had to have a son join the military. While the law had been recinded a good ten years ago, most respectable families still did so as a general rule.

He knew that Endrew had the makings of a fine military man one day, however, so it wasn't as if Father didn't still have somene to fill that capacity. And Matner knew he wasn't likely to stay in a caravan indefinitely. But he needed to get out and see things before he was going to settle down into a life as some guard. He looked over at his tentmate, thinking of Sameth's intent to seek riches and adventure.

This is more than that, he assured himself. I need to make my own way in the world if I expect people to respect me. Not only do I not want Father making all my decisions, but I don't want him to pave the way before me. What was it Master Drake said? He thought about one of the lectures the Master had given them, about sending men into a battle you weren't willing to go into yourself. I've never even seen a real battle. How can I know I'd be willing to enter a fight if I've never really been in one? He found himself thinking about the various adventures some of the caravan guards had already had. I can learn more from these people.

With that thought, he got dressed again and headed out of the tent. The sky was slightly lighter where the sun would rise soon, and the sound of birds waking to greet it seemed much louder than it ever did in the city. The aroma of coffee greeted him when he stood up and stretched to shake off the sleepiness.

There were varying degrees of wakefulness about the camp. The guards ranged from sleepy stretching to alert and ready looking. The actual caravan crew was all up and about and already doing stuff while Ennick made breakfast.

"Here," Old Frederickson said, pushing a mug of coffee towards Matner. "Ye ne'er did get the coffee you bought yesterday, so ye can have the first cup today."

"Oh, thank you," Matner said. "I'd forgotten."

"Ye realize I coulda jus' about fall inta that hole ye'd dug, eh?" Frederickson teased.

"I... uh... yeah. The last time I dug anything it was learning about defensive fortifications."

"I don' think we expect mindless obedience 'ere, kid," the old dwarf explained. "Don' ye be afraid ta ask questions. To a degree, anyway. We did have one kid we couldn't get ta shut up ever."

"I think so far I've stayed out of the way pretty good," Matner tried.

"It's not about stayin' out o' the way, lad. 'Tis about bein' part o' something. If'n yer gonna be stayin' with us, ye gotta learn our ways an' become part o' a team. An' ta do that, ye'll have to find yer place in it."

"Well, we did learn some things about teamwork at the... the training I did," he said, still not wanting to mention the academy. "But, honestly, I've generally usually been told where my place is." He realized he'd said it with an unhappy sigh, to which Fredrickson raised an eyebrow. He hurriedly sipped at the coffee, to try and mask it. He was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. He thought it was, quite possibly, the best coffee he'd ever tasted.

"I doubt anyone told ye ta hitch up with us folk," Fredrickson commented. "Seems ta me yer learnin' quick enough ta make up yer own mind. Don't try so hard ta make it happen, an' ye'll see that some things fall inta place themselves." He stood up, and Matner a rough pat on the shoulder. "Ye seem a nice enough lad. It'll work itself out. Always does. Or nearly always, anyway."

He left Matner sitting there, hobbling off, leaning heavily on his cane and yet still managing a pretty quick pace for someone with a wooden peg in place of one leg. Matner found himself wondering what had happened to the leg, but decided to save that question for another time. He was just starting to wonder if he should be getting something done, instead of sitting on a log, sipping coffee, when Fat Ren started handing out plates as Ennick filled them. Ren thrust a metal plate into his hands, with a fork sticking out of the food on one side. On it was some sort of mixed egg thing, with what looked like onions, cheese, and some vegetables cooked into it, along with a couple of buttered pieces of toast, and two links of sausage.

"Enjoy it, Matner," Tam said, sitting down next to him with a plate of his own. "The further out into the country we get, the less often we see some of the fresh items. When we can, we'll stop near enough to a town or farm to trade for fresh goods. But there are areas that get pretty remote, where we won't see fresh vegetables or eggs for a week or more. "

"If we're merchants," Matner asked, immediately guessing he was asking a stupid question, "shouldn't we be sticking to populated areas?"

"Mostly we do. There are some areas we have to go through to get to other areas. But also sometimes we go to slightly more remote areas once a year that seldom see any other caravans. Those folk get hungry for company and news and goods they can't make themselves."

"That makes sense," Matner admitted.

"Well, you're probably new to caravan travel. You can't be expected to know it all yet. Ask questions. That'll be how you make friends here, by learning the business and becoming a part of it."

The food was good, and they both sat quietly and ate. Tam munched away with his own thoughts while Matner watched the sun come up. It was the first full day on his own. He had left his prior life behind him. It was even over in the direction he was looking, more or less. He wished they were going in a different direction, so that watching the sunrise would not feel like looking back. He did not want to look back. He wanted to look forward, and move forward.

The next thing he knew he was being called over to help tear down tents. He let himself be absorbed in getting the camp ready to move. It was activity; it was doing something. Soon they'd be moving again. Moving forward. He worked quickly, eager to move on.

Between the workers and the guards, they seemed to have developed a routine in packing up the caravan. It seemed to take very little time to get everything in hand. Once the tents were back in one of the wagons, Matner was sent to fill the hole back in with dirt, while others hitched the horses, doused the fire, and took care of other things that needed packing up. Lastly, he donned his armor and stowed his bag in the back of a wagon, with the others. Then the wagons began to creak, and he took his place, walking alongside one of them.

Like the day before, Old Fredrickson stood to one side, watching the wagons and checking to be sure everything was tied and stowed correctly. He seemed to have no complaints, however, and soon made his way back to his spot, sitting with Shannah, in the seat of the lead wagon.

They hadn't been traveling long, before a rider came up behind them. Matner was already growing accustomed to the rhythm of the horses and wagons, from the walking the day before, so he recognized the faster pace of a lone horseman on the road. Frank and the others seemed to as well, and rode back to meet the rider. Being the only one not on wagon or horseback, Matner couldn't really get a good vantage point, no matter how hard he craned his neck. The wagons did not stop, so he kept walking alongside, as the others kept their posts too. Eventually, Frank rode up to the front of the wagon, where he seemed to be talking with Old Fredrickson. The rider edged around to the side of the wagon, and Matner saw the recognition in his friend's face at about the same time that Leyeb noticed him.

"Hey! Matner!"

"What are you doing out here, Leyeb," Matner asked, thinking he already knew the answer.

"Your father sent me to find you and bring you home. He sent a few people, actually."

"You two know each other then," Frank said.

"Yes," Matner said. "I can take care of this."

"I'm not going home, Leyeb," he said firmly.

"He... had quite a lot to say about it, mate," Leyeb said, looking a little concerned.

"I'm sure he did. He probably went on a bit about the job he went out of his way to get me. But I didn't earn it, Leyeb. I don't want my life just handed to me like that. I want to chase after life, and grab it for myself. I can't do that at home. I'm not going back."

"So what am I supposed to tell your father?" Leyeb asked.

"Well," Matner answered. "If this caravan hasn't seen me, then I guess you'll have to just ride ahead and ask at the next little town. But I'm guessing they haven't seen me, either."

"No, I suppose they won't have, yet, huh? So who in the caravan am I supposed to ask?"

"I'm Frank," Frank said, riding closer. "I'm in charge of the guards."

"Oh. Have you seen him?" Leyeb said, pointing to Matner.

"Nope," Frank said, straight faced, "haven't seen him. Guess you'll just have to move on."

"Right then," Leyeb replied with a wry grin and a nod.

"So, how bad is it, Leyeb?" Matner couldn't help but ask.

"Well, Rafer's on the eastern road, yer brother's headin' north, an' he sent one of the servants headin' south. He's payin' too, though I don't supppose any of us'll be gettin' that bonus fer bringin' ye back. But I think the fact that he, himself, was on his way down to the docks with my father, pretty much sums it up."

"Oh," he groaned at the idea of his father demanding that the various ship owners let him aboard to search.

"Eh," Leyeb shrugged. "Pa owns half the ships there anyway. He'll smooth any ruffled feathers quick enough. Even the ones that aren't his like him well enough. I've got myself a spot on one leavin' in five days. Ain't one o' my pa's either." Leyeb chuckled.

"What about Rafer?"

"Well, now that yer out of contention, he'll probably be on again about that guard job. He's been talkin' ta some people around town though, and I'm pretty sure he's gotten some good offers."

"That's good to hear," Matner thought for a moment, feeling a little guilty.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye," he told his friend. "But the decision was kind of sudden."

"Nah, don't worry yerself," Leyeb shrugged again. "We all knew we were gonna go different ways now that trainin' is over. Although I'm a mite jealous ye git to git off without writin' all those thank you letters though." His friend gave him anther grin.

"Well I didn't want my hand to cramp up. You know that's the real reason I left," Matner joked.

"Aye," he nodded. "Anywheres, I'd better be off down the road an' let you git back to yer guardin' duties."

Matner nodded, and reached up to touch his gloved fist to Leyeb's, in a mixed gesture of luck and farewell. Then Leyeb was gone, spurring the horse into a gallop, waving as he went further down the road. Matner wondered briefly if he would see his friend again when Leyeb headed back to Calster. Then he wondered if he'd ever see Leyeb again at all. He felt a pang of homesickness for his friends, but not enough to make him change his mind. He was glad it had been Leyeb who'd found him, however, since Leyeb was most likely to understand and not judge Matner's decision for anything more than it was.

"Right," Frank said to him after Leyeb was gone, "are there going to be others coming looking for you?"

"My father's a persistent man, but by the time Leyeb gets back we should have enough head start, I think."

"We don't move fast enough to outpace a party of horsemen, kid. I need to know if this is something I need to be concerned about. My job is to keep this group safe."

"No," Matner said, "I understand and respect that. I don't think this is something you have to worry about. My father wanted me to take a job in the city, something maybe a little prestigious. But I want to earn my place in the world, Frank."

"That I understand," Frank said.

"It'll be the eventual going home that will be hard. I don't think we're going to be chased. It's not like I stole anything on my way out."

"Oh, good," Frank teased, "because you know we don't tolerate thieves and troublemakers here."

"Oh, of course," Matner answered with a grin. "No place for people like that here at all."

"At least we understand each other," Frank finished. He rode forward without another word, leaving Matner to hustle forward a bit to retake his spot alongside a wagon.

The rest of the travel that day went without incident. Around midday, Tam pulled a harmonica out of his pocket and began to play a merry tune, which Shannah picked up and began to sing. A few of the others sang or hummed quietly along, but no one seemed eager to drown out her lilting voice, which seemed to drift gently along with the breeze. It was clear that she often sang to the horses, as they seemed to prick up their ears and pick up their pace to match the music.

The music helped several hours of the day pass by more quickly. They passed through two villages, both smaller than the previous ones, and made camp at the far end of the road that ran trough the second one. Matner found himself wondering how far Leyeb had made it that day, as he dug another latrine pit - this time considerably smaller than his last one had been.

Instead of the fire, this time he was instructed to help set up the tents, and then he and a couple others searched out firewood to keep the fire going. By the time they got back, he could smell the aroma of something simmering over the flames, in one of Ennick's big pots. There was a little time before dinner was served, and Matner saw that others were occupying the time with a variety of things. Some practiced their weapons skills, others read books, and Tam was making a small pinging noise as he used a tiny hammer to work on a small metal object. Matner was considering what he might do with the bit of time, when Old Fredrickson hobbled up next to him.

"A minute, lad," he said, drawing Matner off to one side.

"Yes sir?" he asked, worried the the caravan owner was about to change his mind.

"It's Frank's job ta tell me about things ye know," he began, making Matner's worry deepen. "Though I already knew a mite about ye afore we left. It pays ta have a few contacts in each big city fer gettin' infermation from. Ye left behind a mighty lofty position ye'd been offered back in Calster. Not too of'en we get someone's graduated top 'o his class signin' up with a caravan these days. However unlikely it might be that someone else might come lookin' fer ye, it might still be good fer ye ta tell me jist why 'tis ye left."

"So, you know who my father is?" Matner asked.

"Not 'xactly, but he's got some money, an' landed ye a cushy job."

"He wants me to work in a boring job that makes him look good before the throne and the city," Matner explained. "He doesn't care one whit what I want. I don't want to just parade around being one of the king's bodyguards. Now, I know that can sometimes lead to command positions, but I don't know if I even want that."

"But that's part of it, sir. I don't know what I want, but I want to pick it for myself. So, first, I want to go off and experience the world. I'm guessing I'll find my path while I'm out here. Maybe I can make my mark on the world somehow, instead of just maybe increasing my father's place in the world."

"Aye, lad. Me own pa didn' want me to be a merchant, yet 'ere I be."

"So what did he want you to be?"

"Close ta home, fer one, keepin' both legs, fer another. That part was never part o' me plan, of course."

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Ah, there you are, Matner," Frank said, interrupting. He turned to Old Frederickson, "Can I borrow him, boss?"

The dwarf nodded. "Another time, lad," he said before he turned and hobbled off calling out for Shannah.

"Yes, sir?" Matner asked Frank.

"You've been carrying that sword around," Frank pointed out, "time to see if you really know how to use it. I want to know that before I have to trust my life to it. We have a little time yet before dinner and dark."

"Of course, sir."

He followed Frank to a small area of grass that had been flattened by the wagons and horses as they'd pulled off the road. A part of him felt a little frustrated that he was still being tested, even after he'd graduated. Then again, he didn't know if Frank knew what Old Fredrickson did or not. Just saying I have training doesn't necessarily tell Frank much I suppose, he thought to himself. When they reached the clearing, he drew his sword and readied himself with a defensive stance.

"Hold on there, Matner," Frank said, gesturing to someone in the small crowd of caravan members that was starting to gather to watch. Linden came forward and handed both Frank and Matner slightly weighted wooden swords. Matner put his own back in its scabbard and hefted the practice weapon in his hand, testing the balance of it until he was satisfied.

"No sense anyone getting themselves killed in a friendly bit of sparring," Frank commented.

Matner just nodded in reply. His academy training had been with steel on steel for months before graduation. He'd become so accustomed to it that it hadn't even occurred to him to wonder if they'd have practice weapons with the caravan. The other training he'd seen had been mostly practicing specific attacks and counterattacks slowly and deliberately, not sparring. He lifted the wooden sword and regained his stance, focusing and watching Frank's eyes for clues.

Frank was watching his eyes as well, but seemed more relaxed and casual than Matner felt. He waited for Frank to make the first move, and countered it effortlessly. He could tell, however, that Frank had begun with something simple. The second attack wasn't quite as easy, although Matner still had no difficulty anticipating it. He watched for specific movements in Frank's body when he couldn't see the man's eyes. He ignored the laughing and taunting of the others watching them and focused in on Frank, calming himself inwardly as he'd been taught. On the third attack, he stepped aside and countered with an attack of his own. To his surprise, Frank brought his sword up to deflect it expertly, looking amused.

"Good try, kid," Frank said. "Don't get cocky." Frank swung his wooden sword in a wide arc towards him, and he blocked it. He did not see Frank's left fist come out and lightly graze his cheek.

"You've got training, but training isn't the same thing as real experience," Frank pointed out.

"I see that," Matner said, trying another attack. Frank blocked it and came back with a counter swing of his own. Matner knew that move, and he parried it, throwing his own counter swing in on reflex. Frank hopped back away from it, barely avoiding it.

"Not bad," Frank admitted. He could hear that the others were enjoying watching, and he found that encouraging. He focused on Frank, jumping up to avoid Frank's leg coming out to sweep his out from under him. Frank immediately came at him again, almost before he'd gotten his feet back under him. He managed to avoid all of Frank's attacks, although some of them only barely.

He felt something hard tap him on the top of the head, and he spun around, startled. Sameth stood there with another practice sword and a huge grin.

"That was the real test, kid," Frank said. "In a real battle there's almost always other foe to watch. But you've got good potential. We'll take a little bit of time each night for group practice for a while. If nothing else, it's always good to know how the whole group fights, so you can anticipate what your partners are going to do."

"That makes sense," Matner said. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. You're not the only one who needs practicing," Frank said, with a pointed look towards Sameth.

"Dinner!" Fat Ren started banging on one of Ennick's iron skillets with a heavy wooden spoon. "Move it or lose it!"

The crowd dispersed quickly, as everyone hustled to the fire and grabbed up bowls from Ren and Ennick as they served them. Several of the guards patted him on the shoulder with a "not bad kid" remark, or something similar, as he picked up a bowl for himself. He took it off to one side, where he ate in silence, watching the others and thinking about his spar with Frank.

Frank was right, of course. He understood that. Matner didn't have any experience with actual combat, only training simulations where the worst that happened was usually a cut or bruise. Every once in a while there had been more serious wounds, but there had always been someone from the church handy for healing. He'd been able to hold his own well enough in the final test against Master Pru, so he'd expected to do better against Frank. While he'd not defeated Master Pru or anything, he'd come close to breaking the record for how long he kept himself in the ring. Master Pru was considered the best for hundreds of miles around. And yet, by the end of the fight with Frank, Matner felt slightly winded in a way that he hadn't had before. Frank, on the other hand, hadn't broken a sweat. Matner found himself feeling outclassed - something he hadn't felt in a long time.

He realized suddenly that he might have to kill a man at some point. Or, worse, that he could be killed himself. It was as if what he was doing was finally feeling real. He hadn't felt nervous about his battle skills in a long time, but now he felt his palms get sweaty over it. I need to be better, he resolved. It's obvious I'm not done training just yet. The decision made, he focused in on eating the stew before it became cold, as he reviewed the mistakes he'd made sparring with Frank.

They had stopped with some time left in the day, and there was still about an hour between dinner and dark. Some of the others did some practicing, and he watched.

Fat Ren sat around making short arrows for the crossbows and Evara worked on some embroidery. Old Frederickson leaned back with a mug and watched everything. To Matner he looked like a father watching his family play together after dinner. Or, rather, he looked like what Matner always imagined other fathers looked like watching their families. His own father had never been like that that he could recall.

People started gradually turning in once it started getting dark. About half the caravan had gone off by the time he stopped at the latrine before crawling into his tent. He fell asleep some time before Sameth came in.

Eventually he was woken for their shift on guard duty. He woke up more quickly than Sameth, who yawned and stretched before finally getting dressed.

They went out and sat by the fire, listening to the chirping of crickets and the popping and cracking from the fire. Sameth plucked a blade of grass and idly worked at splitting it into thinner and thinner strips.

"So how often has the caravan been attacked?" Matner asked.

"Not often at all. There're enough of us ta warn off some troublers, although sometimes they seem ta think that we've got stuff worth takin' because we're well protected."

"How many times since you've been with them?" he asked.

"Well, now. Lemme think," he looked upwards for a minute, thinking. "I reckon it's been about... well, alright, twice. But three if yer countin' the wolves."

"Wolves?"

"Yep. We got attacked by wolves one night, not long after I joined up. One 'o them took a hefty bite outa my leg too!" He pulled up his pants leg and showed off where a patch of skin was darker. "I killed it though. Ran it through good, I did. Then Evara patched me up."

"I see," Matner nodded. "Did it hurt much?"

"Like nothin' I'd ever felt before!" he replied excitedly. "I had ta ride in the wagons fer two weeks afore it was healed enough. I was lucky I didn't lose my leg. Although Old Fredrickson assured me that they'd get me a peg like him if I did."

"So, what happened with the other attacks?" he asked, not thinking he would remember nearly losing a leg with quite so much zeal himself.

"Oh we beat 'em off good both times. Once they tried gettin' us near the end o' the day. I guess they figured we'd be too tired from walkin' to fight them off. There weren't even as many o' them as there were of us though. We took most of 'em down with the crossbows first. A couple tried to fight, but most just ran off pretty quick. The second time was at night though. We were pretty far off the main road too. We'd been takin' a smaller road east of Gainsburg, to some of the farmin' towns. There's a couple o' patches of woods we went through an' one was long enough that we stopped to camp midway. We'd bumped up the watch where half o' us were up while the other half slept though, which I don't think they were expecting. I was on watch when it happened. They just dropped down outa the trees onto us!"

"Then what happened?" Matner asked, thinking that this was a more exciting tale than the others.

"Well, um..." Sameth looked a bit sheepish. "One o' them knocked me across the head, you see. I kinda missed most of the fight. I heard it was really rough though. Even Frank needed a couple o' stitches from that one. Nobody died though."

"Well, it's good that nobody died, then," Matner said.

"Frank says we makes a point of travelin' with enough strength ta be safe. Costs more, he says, but worth it."

"I guess so."

A wolf howled, long and lonely sounding. It was turned into a chilling sound when other voices joined in, seemingly from all directions. He had never seen a wolf up close. They never came close to the city, naturally, although he knew they often enough caused problems on more remote farms.

"How many do you think that was?" he asked.

"Dunno. Toss another log on the fire, wolves don' like fire."

He followed the suggestion and put another log on. Sparks jumped up and drifted up on the barely-there breeze. He found himself looking up at the stars. There was a sliver of moon hanging high in the night sky.

They did not hear the wolves again, but mentioned them to the next watch before turning in. Matner dreamt of wolves.

In the dream, the caravan found themselves surrounded by what had to have been a thousand wolves. The wolves charged in from every direction. He promised himself he would stand bravely. He had not run away from home to turn coward.

As the wolves closed, some of them just vanished. Some of them faded away as they ran, turning ghostly and then they were gone. The few wolves that were left slowed and stopped out of sword reach. Now it was just under a dozen. They looked around, as if evaluating their own numbers compared to the humans. Then they turned and loped away. Matner woke to the smell of bacon.