"I suppose we are. How does this compare to the Volstrum?"
She laughed. "This would be a warm day in Karslev, not that I was allowed out much."
"I much prefer smaller villages," Athgar noted. "Big cities make me uneasy."
"For good reason. We've seen nothing but trouble when we visit one."
"I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. First, there was Draybourne, where I was robbed."
"Yes," she agreed, "but you met me, so it wasn't all bad."
"True, but then we went to Corassus, where the Cunars tried to kill us."
"Yes, but we went there looking for them, remember?"
"Also true, but then there was Caerhaven, where, let me see if I remember correctly. That's right, they tried to kill us again!"
"And we saved the Orcs," she said. "Don't forget that."
"Maybe it's best if we never go to Ebenstadt. Someone's likely going to try and kill us."
"Or," she retorted, "perhaps we'll visit the city, and everything will turn out well. You should try to be more positive."
"I'll give it a try, but I can't promise anything."
"That's all I can ask." Natalia was about to say more, but Athgar halted, his hand still clasping hers, causing her to turn to see what was wrong. He was staring at the ground and then knelt.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Tracks."
"Another deer?"
"No, Human. I suspect from our Therengian friends. It's relatively fresh, likely from today."
"That means we're close. Tell me, what's the tradition of greeting a Therengian?"
"I'm not sure what you mean," Athgar said.
"Do we shake hands? Or is there some sort of ritual we must adhere to?"
"Therengians are much like anyone else. How would you greet your fellow countrymen?"
"My fellow countrymen are trying to kill me, remember?"
"You know what I mean."
"I do," she replied. "Very well, we'll greet them as we would any other Human we happen to find wandering around in the wilderness."
Athgar barked out a laugh. "I suppose there is that. How does one go and explain our presence here without mentioning the Orcs?"
"If anyone asks, we'll tell them we're looking for Ebenstadt. That was our original objective."
"A good idea. Better to stick as close to the truth as possible."
They continued on their way, following the tracks as best they could. The trail took them into the woods, where the scent of pine was strong. Natalia halted, resting her hand on a tree trunk to steady herself.
"Is something wrong?" asked Athgar.
"My back is sore," she said. "Must have been that hut they put us in. I wish Orcs had proper beds."
"You never complained about them in Ord-Kurgad.”
"The beds there were raised off the ground if you remember. Here, the Orcs prefer sleeping on the ground."
"We were on furs," he reminded her.
"Which lay on the ground. It's the same thing." She waved him on. "You go ahead. I'll catch up."
"I don't want to leave you."
"I won't be long. You can search out those footprints; see which way they go. I just need a moment to catch my breath."
He stared at her, undecided.
"Go," she urged.
Athgar turned, searching the ground once more. The trail led him about an arrow's flight west, then turned north into a clearing. He looked across an open field to see a distant trail of smoke, evidence of a camp or village. He began backtracking his way to Natalia.
Natalia sat, feeling a sudden sense of vertigo. She wondered if the Orc food was causing it but quickly put such thoughts from her mind. Could she be ill? She had caught a fever back in Krieghoff. Was it now returning?
The sound of snapping twigs caught her attention, and she stood, expecting Athgar's return. Instead, she found herself staring into the eyes of someone else, a man with grey eyes like her beloved. But where Athgar had brown hair and a thin, scruffy beard, this man had hair the colour of night, with thick facial hair to match.
He stepped forward, his spear held loosely in his hand.
"What have we here?" he called out.
Another voice chorused in. "What is it, Brother?"
A second, taller man emerged from the trees, with an axe in hand and a trio of rabbits slung from his waist.
"It's a skrolling," said the first.
"And a woman," noted the second.
Natalia tried to back away, but the dizziness hit her again.
"Trust you to find a woman in the middle of nowhere, Harwath."
The shorter of the two moved closer, reaching out to touch her face. She fought off the dizziness, trying to summon a spell, but her body would have none of it. She collapsed back to the ground, her legs weak.
"See how she reacts to my presence, Raleth?" said Harwath. "She is destined to be mine."
"I think not," came Athgar's voice from behind them.
They both whirled, Harwath instinctively raising his spear.
"I wouldn't if I were you," said Athgar, his bow trained on the man.
Raleth raised his hands. "We mean you no harm, friend. Is this your woman?"
"She is my wife," he said. "I am Athgar of Athelwald, and this is Natalia."
"Greetings, Athgar. I am Raleth, and this is my younger brother, Harwath. You must excuse his behaviour. We see so few skrollings in Runewald, particularly such pretty ones."
"Skrollings?"
"Outsiders," explained Harwath. He stepped closer, lowering his spear and peering into Athgar's eyes. "You are one of us," he declared.
"I am a Therengian, if that's what you mean. I take it Runewald is your village?”
"One of them," answered Harwath. "And yes, that is our home, at least for now."
Athgar lowered his bow and unnocked the arrow. "Then I offer greetings."
Raleth extended his hand. "An offer gladly accepted, friend."
Athgar took it, noting the firm grip. "Is your village far?"
"Not at all. It lies just north of here. Why don't you let us take you there?"
"I-I should be glad to, but I must see to my wife first."
He moved to Natalia, kneeling by her, concern written on his face.
"I'm all right," she
