Dain offered a few other pieces of advice as they rode in what Kre assumed was the direction of Yahaestra. Given that it was already late afternoon, at least from what Kre gathered from hearing the others talk, they believed they would arrive at the outpost by the next evening. A perfect time, Dain had commented, so that they could try to slide in while most of the folks were occupied with other activities.
What those activities might be, Dain refused to say. Kre assumed the worst, given some of the chatter he had already picked up on and some of the advice he had been given.
When they stopped to camp, it was only the three of them. Beleg explained, “We’re close enough to the outpost that we could possibly run into some other travelers. It would not bode well for us to be seen with the others.”
Dain left the two of them to tend the camp while he resumed his usual campsite activity of reading. “He’ll play his part well,” the large man noted, waving a piece of soon-to-be firewood at the arcanist, “that of the demanding and sometimes harsh master.”
It would have sounded almost like an insult if not for the wide grin on Beleg’s face. Kre believed that the big guy could have said anything to anyone, and that smile would still be so infectious that it would diffuse every potentially confrontational situation.
“So, we’re on our own,” Kre asked, feeling more alone than they had been when acting as goblin bait. “Talimar and Kersath are as well, aren’t they?”
Beleg nodded, his smile fading. “When you’re in the Red Feather Company,” he rumbled, “you’re never alone. Those that went before are always watching over us, just as they watch over Ortho and Gnore right now.”
He stoked the fire a bit and set the cooking pan atop some freshly laid logs. “Grilled cheese tonight,” he said. “We need to use up the rest of the block before it really starts to smell.”
Despite his hope for the cheese’s still-freshness, the white block was already pretty pungent when unwrapped from the wax paper it had been stored in. Kre waved off the offer of cheese in his sandwich and so was left with just a couple of pieces of buttered toast. Given how his stomach was already turning in anticipation of what was to come as of tomorrow evening, the toast was more than enough.
After his meal of four fairly large sandwiches, Beleg was finally done with his dinner. While Kre cleaned up after the meal, Dain wrapped himself in his blankets near the fire and promptly fell asleep.
“Take the first watch,” Beleg said. “Just wake me when you start to feel tired.”
Kre nodded and placed his hand on his tyrfang for reassurance.
“Ah,” Beleg muttered. “I’m really sorry, but that will have to stay hidden with Dain’s belongings. A servant in your position shouldn’t be seen with something like that.” He took the oddly colored blade from Kre and tucked it in Dain’s bags. After rummaging through his own bags, he returned with a fairly old hunting knife. The blade was nicked and scratched up, but Kre could still see that it was well cared for, being both clean and wickedly sharp. “Just for tonight,” he said. “You shouldn’t be seen with a weapon at the outpost.”
Though he hated being parted from the only weapon he had ever called his own, if it could even be considered his given the manner in which Lady Bel had gifted it to him, the heft of the hunting knife brought him some small peace of mind while he stood watch over the others against the full darkness of the night.
Pass me one of those grilled cheese sandwiches, please! 😉